by Lisa Ferrari
“You know,” says Kellan as he sets down his bag and sips on his preworkout drink (so I do the same), “some gyms don’t even have squat racks.”
“Why not? They can’t afford them?”
“No, they took them out because the members were intimidated by them. Or, more specifically, by the type of people who actually use them. They also have an alarm that goes off if you make too much noise. It’s not a library, it’s a gym. And they have free pizza and bagels, too. Again, it’s not a cafeteria, it’s a gym. But if you think about it, it’s actually brilliant marketing.”
“Why?”
“It teaches everyone not to work too hard, to eat junk food, and to therefore not make any real progress. That way, they keep paying their dues month after month and they keep coming in and getting no results.”
“But if they don’t get results, don’t you think they would wonder why and decide to change their program so they do get results?”
“You would think so. The other thing is that most people get frustrated or lose interest and stop going to the gym altogether, even though they have to keep paying for their membership. Did you know that 75% of all new gym members stop going after three months? Sad. You want to know one of the big secrets to having a lean, muscular body?”
Desperately. “Yes.”
“Legs. Lots and lots of legs. Legs are big muscles. They require a lot of effort to train. It’s hard. That’s why most people do them half-assed or not at all. That’s where the term California Bodybuilder came from. Or Jail Body. People who simply don’t do legs. Big upper body with skinny legs. Don’t be one of those people.”
Over the next two hours, Kellan walks me through squats, lunges, hack squats, leg extension, hamstring curls, and calf raises. We go kinda easy on me because he wants me to be able to walk tomorrow. He says we’ll increase the volume over time, but for the first few workouts for each body part, not to do too much. This is also in order to avoid injury.
For each new exercise, he has me do one warm-up set and then a couple of mildly heavier sets so he can assess my strength and figure out how weight much I should be using.
As I’m getting onto the leg extension machine, my low self-esteem refuses to be ignored any longer and I ask, “Why are you helping me?”
“Look around. We’re the only ones here. I know it’s Monday night and the Niners played tonight, but come on. Last night, when I came in to train, you were the only other person here. That says a lot about your desire and commitment. I understand that. I respect that. You clearly are committed and determined and you will probably succeed without me, but I can help you get there faster.”
“But why are you helping me?”
“Because. I like helping people. I want to help you. I know what it’s like. I’ve been there. Plus, I love this, I love being in the gym, I love working out, I love sweating and getting a pump and actually seeing my body get bigger and stronger over time, and I want to share it with others.”
He gets behind me and spots me on a set of squats. He’s very close, and I can feel his breath on my neck. He’s breathing heavily because he’s between sets. Rather than changing plates all night, we each take our own rack and take turns spotting one another. Though me spotting him feels rather superfluous. To the point of absurdity.
When we add more weight, Kellan shows me how to put on his weight belt. I examine myself in the mirror. Suddenly my big fat stomach is gone. I have a slender waist. Wow.
Kellan stands behind me, looking me up and down. I’m immediately self-conscious.
“You have broad shoulders and powerful legs and nice curves. You have symmetry. You’re lucky.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re either born with those things or you’re not. And you were born with them.”
Kellan gets behind me and helps me squat 155, which is a wheel on each side plus a ten-pounder added. He squats as I squat. His arms are under mine and my butt brushes his thighs as I go down.
I hand him the belt and he squats 600 pounds. He does it five times with apparent ease. The bar, which I presume is made of solid steel, actually bends under the weight.
“I haven’t been able to hit that for a couple months,” Kellan says. “I think you’re my new lucky charm, Iron Born.”
We move on to dead lift. Kellan shows me how to do it, although he won’t let me go beyond 135 because he doesn’t want me to hurt my back. That weight is very light so I do a couple sets of fifteen and then stop. It’s basically just squatting down, grabbing a bar off the floor, and standing up. And then setting it down again.
“You’re really strong,” says Kellan in between sips of preworkout.
“I’m the only one at work strong enough to carry the big oval trays with dinners stacked on them.”
“That explains your nice shoulders.”
“I’ve always been humiliated by it. The two guys at work can’t do it. One of them is kinda skinny, though. And the other one is older and says he has a bad shoulder. So it’s up to me to carry everything.”
“That’s good. It’s like getting paid to work out. Every bodybuilder’s dream. How’s your back?”
“Fine.”
“How do you feel? Like, overall?”
“I feel good. I feel strong. Is it always like this?”
“Mostly. Some days are good. Some days are lousy. Some days you don’t want to do it, you feel like crap, you’re sleep deprived, you’ve missed two meals, your dog died, your car broke down, it’s raining, your forgot your wrist wraps or your belt or your shaker cup and it just feels like everything is wrong. But once you get into the gym and get going, you feel great. All that other stuff fades away. You find your focus and you kick some ass. I love it when that happens.
“Other days, everything is dialed in, your plan is executed perfectly, you had nine hours of sleep, your diet is perfect, there was no traffic on the way to the gym, but you get here and you feel terrible. The weights are heavy, you can’t get warm, you’re weak. You have to stop your workout to go poop. There’s a hot chick doing stiff-deads trying to get your attention, surrounded by horny little gym rats. Those days kinda suck. But you still get in and you get it done. No excuses. Your training is a pact you make with yourself. Take it seriously. Honor it.”
“And train late at night when you have the whole gym to yourself.”
Kellan laughs. “Exactly. Very good.”
We finish legs and I think we’re heading for the door when Kellan drags me over to the cardio equipment.
“We’re not done?”
“Not yet. I like to do some light cardio after legs, to work out some of the lactic acid and get the cortisol down. Plus, I usually wanna barf after leg day. Like I do now.”
“You feel like barfing?”
“I totally feel like barfing. But I won’t. I’ll just walk instead.”
We each get on a treadmill and start walking.
“One time,” Kellan says, “I saw on Jay Cutler’s Instagram page that he had just finished leg day. He posted a pic of himself with the bar on his shoulders and he lunged all around the gym and when he was done he went and sat in his car and couldn’t feel his legs.”
“Wow. Who’s Jay Cutler exactly?”
“He won the Olympia four times. Which ain’t too shabby. Arnold won it seven times. Ronnie Coleman eight. Phil Heath is the new guy who’s already had a bunch. We’ll see how far he can take it. They call him The Gift because he’s so good.”
“What makes him so good? I don’t really understand.”
“Um, it’s a combination of his size and symmetry, but it’s just his overall physique and how he looks. He has an attractive body. Nice shape, good proportions. Some guys have great legs but they’re too big for their upper body. Some guys have a phenomenal chest and shoulders and arms but no legs. Other guys have huge shoulders that are too big for their chest, or their back isn’t filled out. It’s a total package. You know it when you see it.”
We continue
to talk, and walk, for another 30 minutes. Kellan continues to educate me on some of the finer points of bodybuilding and fitness.
On our way out the door, he asks, “You working in the morning?”
“Not til 1:00 p.m.”
We’re standing by our cars. He opens the passenger door on his white Mercedes. “Get in.”
“Where are we going?”
“To eat.”
He’s standing there holding the door for me, looking very happy.
Twenty-four hours ago, we were in the same situation but I couldn’t go.
Tonight I can.
So I do.
“I’m a little wobbly,” I say as I slowly lower myself into the car.
“Me too.”
Kellan goes to the driver’s side and slowly lowers himself in as well. We both start to laugh as we grunt and groan. “You’re laughing now. Wait til tomorrow. I can barely move the day after leg day. Sitting on the toilet is excruciating.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“Don’t be scared. Embrace it. Enjoy it. I love the soreness. It lets you know you have muscles. You can actually feel them. There are trillions of tiny little micro-tears in the tissue that your body is going to repair with all the healthy food you’re going to eat. And a week from now your legs will be stronger, harder, and more defined.”
“I’ve always been afraid to eat.”
“Most women are. But eating is good. Eating the right kinds of foods is what’s important. Bodybuilders eat constantly. The exercise and weight lifting and hours in the gym aren’t what make you big.”
“They’re not?”
“No. They break you down. It’s catabolic exercise. Eating, sleeping, resting, and recovering are what make you big and strong and sexy.”
“I love to eat but I’m always worried that I’m eating the wrong thing, or that I’m eating too much, or that I’m going to get fat. Or… fatter.”
“Train your butt off and you’ll be eating all the time. Honestly, eating gets to be a pain sometimes. There are days when it’s time to eat and I don’t want to. But I do it anyway. Eating is everything to a bodybuilder.”
“I’m not a bodybuilder.”
“You will be when I get done with you. Where you wanna go, Iron Born?”
I recall what Denise said earlier about Grease. “Mel’s.”
“Mel’s Diner, coming right up.”
Kellan starts the car and whips us out of the parking lot with a big smile on his face.
As we drive through the night with the top down and the orange streetlights passing overhead and the wind in our hair, I find myself grinning ear to ear as well.
MEL’S DINER IS very mellow. It is a Monday night, after all.
We sit in a booth and Kellan orders an egg-white omelet with six egg whites and three whole eggs, and an order of oatmeal.
I have no idea what to order. The waitress is a young girl with a blond ponytail. She’s holding her pad and pencil and waiting for me but mostly sneaking peeks at Kellan.
Normally I would order a burger and fries. And onion rings. And a chocolate shake.
But that’s not very bodybuilder-like.
Not that I fancy myself a bodybuilder in any way. Spending two evenings in the gym with Kellan certainly doesn’t qualify. Maybe I should get a big salad. Or chicken strips. Except those are fried. And served with French fries.
The waitress is looking around, getting impatient.
“Make that two,” Kellan says, ordering for me.
I’ve never had anyone order for me.
I always thought it was chauvinistic and controlling. Maybe even psycho. Very Christian Grey.
But it’s not.
It feels like an act of love.
I like it.
Once Blond Ponytail has gone, I ask Kellan why he didn’t order steak or chicken.
He explains, “Albumin, which is a fancy word for egg white protein, has the highest bioavailability of all proteins. It’s the best for you. Beans and peas are even higher than chicken and steak. But everyone has their preferences. Some bodybuilders say they grow the best when they eat a lot of red meat. But everyone has to experiment for him- or herself to see what works best for them. I do eat chicken and steak but I felt like having an omelet. I still kinda wanna puke from our workout so I don’t think I could eat a steak right now. Although there are times when I crave meat. I remember one time I was driving home from the gym after a really, really good arm day. I was really strong that day. My arms felt like balloons. I ate an apple, a banana, and a chocolate whey shake in the car on the way home but I was friggin starving. I wanted meat. Like rare, bloody meat. So I stopped at Whole Foods and went to the deli and got some really expensive sliced Kobe beef. It was quite possibly the best steak I’ve ever had in my life. I bought a pound for like $35. I ate the whole bag in the car with my fingers and washed it down with some pineapple juice. It was almost a primal experience.”
“You’re making me crave meat.”
“I know, me too. We can go to Ruth’s Chris sometime and get some Kobe beef filet.”
“Is it okay to eat at night like this?”
“Absolutely.”
“But all my life I’ve always heard that eating at night makes you fat.”
“Eating shitloads of insulinogenic foods and eating more calories than you burn makes you fat.”
“What’s insulinogenic?”
“Foods with a lot of sugar or simple carbs that cause your pancreas to secrete insulin, which is the master storage hormone.”
“And insulin is bad?”
“No, insulin is great. It’s what allows your body to utilize all those nutrients. It’s just that for most people, they’re eating high-glycemic-index foods all day long so their bodies are awash in insulin 24/7. So they’re storing everything they eat. And they’re eating more calories than they’re burning. So the next thing you know, six months go by and their jeans are suddenly too tight. At that point, you either address the problem, or you ignore it and go buy bigger jeans. But if you want to lose body fat, not just weight, because weight also comes from muscle and bone, but actual fat, then you have to minimize your insulin. On a cutting diet, keep the glycemic index low and make sure you’re in a slight caloric deficit. The combination of the two will cause you to burn fat and trim down rather quickly.”
“But isn’t oatmeal insulinogenic? It’s a carbohydrate.”
“Not really. Oats are a complex carbohydrate. But we just did legs so our muscle cells are ready to suck up all these nutrients. You know how everyone always says breakfast is the most important meal of the day?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s not completely true. It’s actually the postworkout meal.”
“But for people who don’t work out, it’s probably still breakfast, right? After fasting all night.”
“Probably. It’s important while bulking, too. A lot of guys will actually set their alarms to wake them up in the middle of the night and they’ll have a protein shake ready on the nightstand. They’ll chug it real quick and then go back to sleep.”
“Why?”
“To make sure there is a constant supply of amino acids in the blood, feeding and repairing the muscle tissue.”
“Is that what you do?”
“Not usually. I have done that, usually during a contest prep when I’m dieting hard and am hungry all the time and I’m doing anything I can to sleep. I like to sleep too much. I eat before bed, usually some yogurt or cottage cheese. I usually get up in the morning and do an hour of fasted cardio. Then I eat.”
“Fast cardio?”
“No, fasted cardio. I exercise while still fasting from the night time. Some people say it’s not necessary. Other people say it’s too catabolic but in my experience it works the best for me when I want to shed fat as quickly as possible.”
“What’s catabolic?”
“There are two phases of metabolism: catabolism and anabolism. Catabolism is breaking down and an
abolism is building up. The secret is to find the balance between the two, so you can burn as much body fat as possible for energy while still retaining as much of your lean body mass, your muscle, as possible. Ever seen a skinny anorexic fashion model?”
“Yeah.”
“What do they look like?”
“Skeletons.”
“Exactly. They have no muscle because their body used it for energy. That’s extreme catabolism. That shit will kill you eventually. Anorexics end up dying from heart attacks because the body has no choice but to break down heart tissue, which is all muscle, for energy. If people would just do resistance training and eat lots of protein and vegetables, they wouldn’t have any issues. But everyone wants to eat out and go to fast food and eat food with tons of sugar and salt and carbs and preservatives and corn syrup and God knows what else. They eat ice cream every night before bed and wonder why they’re fat as shit and their doctor is putting them on cholesterol medication.”
“But we’re eating eggs. Doesn’t that mean our cholesterol is going to go up?”
“Maybe a little. Temporarily. But cholesterol in and of itself is not bad. Cholesterol is a precursor to testosterone. You need some of it in your diet. Don’t worry about cholesterol. Worry about insulin and sugar. You like Matthew McConaughey?”
“Sure.”
“You’ve seen his body, right?”
“Sure. He’s in women’s magazines pretty much every month with his shirt off.”
“You know how he gets ripped like that?”
“How?”
“Lots of training, a good diet, and no sugar. Period.”
Blond Pony Tail brings our food and sets our plates and bowls of oatmeal in front of us. Then she asks for a picture. She pulls out her phone and leans down and Kellan takes one with her. She’s beaming as she skips away toward the kitchen.
Another waitress comes over. “Sorry, K-Man. She’s new. Can I get you anything else?”
