The judge forced me to attend meetings of Muscle Dysmorphia Anonymous. Others had already advised me to go to M.A., but I was still in denial.
Muscle Dysmorphia Anonymous
Me: “Hi, I’m Kenneth and I’m a muscle dysmorphic.”
Group: “Hi Kenneth”
Me: “I haven’t had a protein shake in 64 days.”
-Group applauds-
Me: “I think I’ll make it. One rep at a time.”
addicted to muscle mass
I’ve been attending M.A. meetings for two months now. I’m still grateful to the judge for intervening in a life that was at risk of being wasted. Of course, I didn’t say that during the hearing:
“An addiction to muscle mass, muscle dysmorphia? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Your Honor.”
Having protein powder stuck to my mustache didn’t exactly help my case.
The first signs that something was wrong appeared about ten years ago. My hard-earned cash disappeared every month into the pocket of the protein dealer. I lost my job because I smashed my shaker bottle over a colleague’s head when they complained that I was eating four times per shift.
It wasn’t the first time I got aggressive. That same year, I got kicked out of Basic-Fit because I beat annoying calisthenics guys with a barbell off the squat rack because they occupied it for an hour. “They’re messing with my gains and only do muscle-ups in the squat rack!!!” I shouted at the staff who had called the police to remove me from the gym.
Things weren’t much better at home. My wife left me three years ago. She couldn’t stand the nocturnal protein farts anymore. Now she’s dating a crossfitter. Just to spite me.
12 reps program
Since I’ve been following the ’12 reps program’ of the M.A., things have been much better.
- I’ve learned to accept that I have a problem
- I repeat the mantra “There is more than muscle mass, om mani padme hum” 100 times daily
- I no longer check the mirror every hour to see if my gains have disappeared
- I no longer sleep in the gym
- I no longer randomly pour any white powder into my shaker hoping it’s protein
- Now I can speak ten full sentences without using any of the following words: shape, gains, ripped, training, yeah buddy, muscle mass, body fat percentage, broccoli, whey.
- If I hear ‘gym music’ in the car, I don’t immediately do a handbrake turn on the highway to go to the gym. That Pavlovian reaction to dance music has cost me 3 cars, 2 hospitalizations, and a lot of gains in the past.
- Speaking of Pavlovian reactions, I no longer automatically lift my shirt to show my abs as soon as someone mentions the word “cut.”
- I no longer try to thread my weightlifting belt through the loops of my jeans.
- Monday is now just Monday again, not “chest-biceps day”
- I dip as often with nachos as with a dipping belt now
- When I hear ‘macros,’ I think of buying in bulk at the wholesaler again
It’s been a long road, and I still avoid gyms like the plague for fear of falling back into my old, bad habits. I’ve managed to replace pre-workouts with cocktails and protein with cocaine. So, I have a normal social life again. Never again will I make the mistake of focusing my entire life on something as trivial as fitness and a good physique.
Thank you, M.A.!!
