So I'm working back and bi's at the gym when all 160 pounds of this stone-faced warrior marches into the iron palace as if he's just been sent into battle by Genghis Kahn. Dressed for war, this Dorianesque bone-dry freak is clad in skin tight Levis and a sleeveless shirt revealing hard-earned 14 inch guns. The whole gym pauses and shudders at his intimidating presence, the temperature seemingly plummeting. A cold sweat appears to break on our mass monsters skin in anticipation of the coming terror. For a warm up, he hits the machine bench and squeezes out 2 sets of jaw dropping 110 pound benches, obviously training for 'cuts' rather than size in this particular workout.
Next, he approaches the free weights for a staggering set of incline db presses. I watch in awe as he hoists the 65's with a mighty groan, but fails to complete one rep, clearly having torn both pecs from the bone in previous hostilities. He finishes the workout (which would have exhausted even the most seasoned iron veterans by now) with a brilliantly devised plan to shock his cold hams with a set of leg curls, performed with a full range of motion on the lowest setting - obviously focusing his efforts wisely on pump and stretch. A viciously brutal set that brings tears to our steel vagabond’s blood shot eyes.
Realising the session has reached maximum intensity, he chooses surprisingly to not unleash the resistance bands from his gym bag - a rugged satchel that has no doubt seen the most punishing of workouts and inhospitable gyms in its time since being purchased from Fitness First. On his exit he is heard commenting to one of the gym's personal trainers that they'll be seeing more of him in the coming months and years, a quip that forces even the hardest man to gulp bile in fear. I too feel my skin crawl in trepidation that we may well be seeing more of this granite chiselled iron drifter in the not too distant future............
