any of you Life is using performance enhancing drugs. I feel comfortable making this bet because I recently discovered how many people in my life are using performance enhancing drugs. Maybe your dad made human growth hormone at an “anti-aging” clinic. Maybe that woman you met on Henge just ordered her first “peptide stack.” It’s definitely the middle-aged white dude at work who calls you bro, who takes a beta blocker before presentations—the same guy who texted you about T, testosterone, aka Test, because he had cut a friend’s bottle and brother There were things Wild, He felt it Crazy Like he could answer a thousand emails while running through a wall. Bro, you need to check this shit out ASAP.
My curiosity about this sudden ubiquity helps explain how I came to meet Nick, 33, a handsome white man with elaborate tattoos, a workwear jacket and good Dressed in jeans. Nick looks like something you’d meet in an expensive coffee shop. It’s a look that wouldn’t suggest it to most looks, someone who occasionally injects himself with steroids daily. Someone who dealt with them and even “cooked” them in his kitchen. Someone who once injected himself Pulp FictionStyle, straight in chest.
A decade ago, Nick lived with his parents in Southern California and worked a day job doing manual labor. Going to the gym was her escape. “Training was the only thing I could really do,” he said. “I was kind of a vegetable other than being in the gym.”
At the time, he was struggling with erectile dysfunction, he believed, on antidepressants. A doctor tested his blood and found that he had low testosterone. He tried adjusting his diet to increase his levels: fermented cod liver oil, Brazil nuts, butter from grass-fed cows. Then the doctor prescribed testosterone replacement therapy (TRT). Before long, Nick was giving himself intramuscular injections, which seemed to be: he was more motivated, more motivated, and he enjoyed how his body was changing. The appeal of growing up had been on his mind for years. “I remember one of my first girlfriends saying I looked skinny,” she recalled. “Out of high school, I was 120, 130 pounds at five-ten. It stuck in my head, saying I’d look crazy at 160. Crazy, Means hot. Then, through a gym friend, Nick heard about SARMs—selective androgen receptor modulators. At the time, they were a relatively new class of experimental drugs, alleged to promote the benefits of anabolic steroids, such as muscle building, but with fewer potential negative side effects. So he ordered something online.
Soon, with training and dieting, using testosterone and SARMs, Nick achieved a 28-inch waist and a 40-inch chest. He felt athletic, he felt strong. In the gym, he can squat 400 pounds for multiple repetitions, and he can bench press about the same amount, he said. Besides, he liked how he looked.
We were sitting outside a coffee shop in East Los Angeles. I asked Nick who requested that I not use his real name. Other anonymous subjects will be named by initials – if they can show me a picture from the period. He bowed his head and looked at the street. He said he deleted all the photos, he can’t look at them. Seeing them, he became depressed. Because, sadly, he didn’t stop there. “I think in finance, they say one of the hardest things to master is the ‘art of the coffee,'” he said. “Steroid use, that’s what it is.”
Credit : www.gq.com
