Weight Lifting - Tumblr Posts
Lifting Up and Dumbing Down Part 18
You grunt as you thrust repetitively at the weight on your shoulders, squatting up, then down. Up, then down. Your new compression shorts feel tight against your thighs and glutes, letting you feel every last piece of tension in your muscles as you continue to press. And tight is good. You’ve already gained a good three pounds of muscle from the last few weeks, giving your lithe body a thicker build as the circumference of your muscles began to increase. You weren’t anywhere near the other builders yet, but you’d made a good start, and the fact Hank wasn’t yelling at you so much implied you’d made some progress with your discipline. “Gotta admit, kid, I didn’t expect you to stick with it this far,” Hank grunted. “You’re not the first model they picked, ya know.” “So, what, you’re telling me they were scraping the bottom of the barrel, when they chose me?” You feel the now-familiar smolder in your chest as your anger begins to rouse. But you’re in the middle of a set, and you know better than to interrupt that, so you push it into your muscles, instead, to power through the exercise. “I wouldn’t call it scraping the bottom.” Hank shrugged. “You’re just number ten or so, I think. The others wimped out, after the first couple of weeks. But you, kid, you’re different. It takes real dedication to keep up this kind of routine. Not many would. I’ll admit I didn’t think you’d have what it takes, but here you are, proving me wrong.” You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “Okay, what’re you trying to butter me up for?” Hank couldn’t help but let out an explosive guffaw. “Kid, you’d have made one hell of a linebacker, with that attitude.” “Not a footballer,” you grunt as you round out your second set. “I’m a body builder.” A sudden shudder passes through you, and a familiar tingling spreads from your crotch. Hank cocked his head and stroked his scruffy chin, passively flexing his massive bicep and pectoral. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Not yet,” he said, after a good ten seconds of silence, “but I think you’re going to be.”
“He actually said that to you?” Duff balked as you sat at your usual seat by the restaurant. Your new jeans felt a little on the loose side, after moving up from your previous size, but that was the point of the workouts in the first place. They didn’t call it body building for nothing. You fidgeted uncomfortably in your new large shirt. The sleeves kept brushing against your skin and the sight of the folds when you tucked it into your waist with the belt left you with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. It was uncomfortable before, but ... you find yourself missing the feeling of those old clothes pulling so tightly against your body. “Yeah,” you reply as you sip from the tall glass of water the waitress left you. You’d quit drinking sodas a while ago. Too much sugar. You already got enough from the shakes and what you find naturally in food, so why take more than you have to? “Dude, do you have any idea how many bodybuilders would kill to be in your shoes right now?” “It’s not that big of a deal,” you brush it off casually as you look over the menu. The burger was always good, but you had a hankering to try something new today. “Not a big deal? He’s all but offered to be your personal coach!” You shrug. “Isn’t that what he is right now, anyways?” Duff smacked his forehead. “I mean after your contract’s done, stupid.” “Who’re you calling stupid? I’m not the one who zones out every time he lifts weights.” “It’s called mental training, dumbass,” he shot back hotly. “What’d you just call me?” “You heard me.” That did it. The loud screech of metal legs on wood sounded as the both of you stood at once to butt heads. “There’s just one way to settle this,” Duff snorted. His whole body was tense, his muscles pulsing from his increased heart rate. “What?” you snarl back. The smoldering in your chest had been fanned into a virtual inferno. Duff slammed himself back onto his chair and scooted it up to the table. Then he removed his cup and placed it on the floor, before ramming his upper arm on the table’s surface at an obtuse angle. His hand laid open expectantly. The gauntlet had been thrown, and you weren’t about to back down from a fight. You follow his example, prepping the table for what was to come. Your eyes narrow as you wiggle your fingers menacingly. “Are you two ready to--?” “Teriyaki and rice,” you both echo in stereo, never breaking eye contact. “Oh, um ... right. Anything ... else?” The two of you turned to fix your angry glares on her. She got the message and beat a hasty retreat. “What happened to your burger?” Duff asked as he leaned more heavily on his arm, adjusting his position in final preparation. “Wanted to try something new.” You shrug as you work your arm a few times, pumping it to loosen some of the stiffness and increase circulation. “Seemed a good choice, all that lean protein. And you said the sauce was good stuff. Thought I’d see if the hype was all it was cracked up to be.” “You’ll see soon enough.” He narrowed his gaze in an attempt to sharpen his glare. “Come on.” “Oh, I’m coming.” You grit your teeth in an angry snarl and clasp your hand to his, wrapping your fingers around the back of his thumb, even as he did the same with yours. It wasn’t much of a fight. You’d been making great gains, but Duff had been lifting longer and he had more training. You managed to hold your ground for a whole fifteen seconds, before the strain became too much and Duff gained the advantage. Your arm trembled as you struggled to push back against your opponent, but despite your zeal and your valiant attempts, your trembling hand finally touched the end of the table, and you let out an explosive breath as Duff lets go. “Fuck!” you curse. Then your eyes widen as you realize what you just said and quickly put a hand to your mouth. “Sorry.” Duff chuckled. “I wondered how long it’d be, before you finally stopped being so formal, dumbass.” “Quit it,” you grumble sulkily. Duff smirked as he reclaimed his water from the floor. “Whatever you say, bro. Whatever you say.”
“Whatever you say....” you mutter dreamily as you stand before a floor-length mirror, staring into your reflection. A towering bodybuilder stares back with that familiar intensity you’ve become so accustomed to seeing at the gym. A pair of compression shorts clings to stocky calves and bulky thighs, while a massive sleeveless tank strains against his bovine torso. The thing had to be at least a XXL. “You are a big, dumb bodybuilder,” he says in that bovid voice. “You lift things up and put them down.” “I am....” “A big, dumb bodybuilder.” “A big, dumb bodybuilder....” you parrot. “You lift things up and put them down.” “I lift things up and put them down.” “That is all you do. Lift things up and put them down. Lift weights up, drop voice down.” You feel a sudden weight in your hands. “I lift things UP,” you crack, “drop voice d-OWN.” Another crack and suddenly, your voice is huskier, deeper. “Up and down. Up and down.” You start pumping in time to the voice. “Listening up as your thoughts slow down. Pumping up and dropping down. Deeper and deeper. Deep, like my voice. Slower and slower, like your thoughts. Because bodybuilders don’t need to think. Bodybuilders need to lift. You lift things up and put them down. You pump muscle up and put brains down. Because you don’t need to focus on big thoughts right now. You need to focus on big muscles. Big muscles grow by lifting. Lifting up and putting down. You’re beginning to feel it now, aren’t you? The more you lift, the bigger you get, the less you think ahead. Because you don’t need to think ahead. You just need to lift things up and put them down. All you want to do is lift things up and put them down.” “I....” “And the bigger you get, the stronger the urge becomes to lift things up and put them down. Because you are building muscle. You are pumping it up into your brain, burning those useless thoughts away like so much fat. Replacing them with what you really need to know, what stands at the core of your being, the real meat that’s left behind. “You are a big, dumb bodybuilder.” “I ... am a big, dumb bodybuilder.” “You want to be a big, dumb bodybuilder.” “I want to be a big, dumb bodybuilder.” “You lift things up and put them down.” “I lift things up and put them down.” The repetition feels so wonderful. And all the while, you’re pumping, pumping. “You don’t think. You act.” “Don’t ... think.” “Because dumb bodybuilders like you aren’t supposed to think. You just do what your coaches tell you to do.” “Do ... what I’m told....” “Up the weights, up the gains. Put down old thoughts. Put down the brains.” You can’t help it. A dimwitted chuckle escapes your lips, and it feels so right. Your reflection is lifting with you now, and he’s pumping some serious iron. You hear the clank, look to your right. Now you’re pumping some serious iron. You hardly even noticed how your arms were suddenly bare or how tight your pants had become again. You smirk at the mirror, and your reflection follows your example. “I lift things up and put them down,” you say in stereo, and you laugh again, because it feels right. “I really am a dumbass,” you guffaw. “Huhuhuhuh.” You enjoy that feeling for you don’t know how long, before a strange sort of fog descends over your mind. Everything fades away. You blink once. Twice. Three times. And suddenly you’re back in Doc Schroder’s office. You look down at your diminutive frame in disappointment. Compared to what you were in trance, this is just a sliver. But at least that fake you gives you something to work towards. And you are going to work for it. “Welcome back,” Schroder says. “Tell me. Have you gotten a better feel for your character yet?” You chuckle, still feeling the familiar tingle from the hypnosis-induced dream. “You could say that.” “Good. I thought you might. In that case, it’s time we focused on practicing in real life. I don’t think you’ll need me to put you under anymore.” You frown. “But I liked that.” “Most of my patients do,” she noted, “but I’m not here to give them pleasure. I’m here to help them achieve their roles. I’m here to help you achieve yours.” She looked seriously at you. “You’ve been getting a little too comfortable with the bodybuilding stereotype of late. I’ve seen it in the way you talk, the way you move. You need time to focus yourself again. Until you do, I don’t feel comfortable putting you through any more hypnotic sessions. And besides that, if you’ve already achieved the voice range that you’re looking for, then there’s no further need of it. I’ll be expecting those files back next session, young man. No ifs, ands, or buts.” “But--.” She raised a stern hand, and her eyes flashed as the light above turned her hair into a fiery halo. “I mean it. Make sure to bring it in. If you don’t, I’ll have to take measures.” You sigh in defeat, slumping your shoulders as you lean back against the couch. “Yes, ma’am.” “Good. Now, then, let’s go over those lines again, shall we?”
Previous Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/635700023353622528/credit-goes-to-musclecorps-is-for-this-image
Next Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181232201117/endemic-evolution-chapter-4-there-you-see-its
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Endemic Evolution Chapter 3
Doctor Lee Chen Barton blew out his mouth like a whale as he surfaced from his breast stroke. They had studied the subjects for the last month with little success in isolating the disease. On top of this, a certain degree of worry gnawed at him. He peered over at the poolside, where Doctor Rante Simmons was just finishing another round of drawing blood samples. A pair of swim trunks hung somewhat loosely against his trimmer frame. The man’s eyes remained rigidly fixed on the vials, but Lee could see how Simmons would pass his gaze over the other men’s rapidly increasing musculature. His hands would squeeze and caress a little longer than necessary, and a bulge began to tent in the man’s crotch, pressing against the fabric. Lee knew what needed to be done. He waded confidently through the pool’s waters, heedless of the splashes that sounded behind as others bellyflopped or otherwise disturbed the waters. The air was heavy with the scent of chlorine and the humidity of the warmer waters. The resistance against his thighs was almost electric as he waded through the shallows and finally mounted the stairs. “Doctor Simmons, I can take over for now. Why don’t you take a dip in the pool? You look like you could use one.” Simmons blinked owlishly and gaped a moment, as if he’d only just noticed his colleague. “Sorry, what?” he finally managed to ask. Lee laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “The pool. You should take a dip. Cool off.” He looked pointedly down at Simmons’ crotch. The man at least had enough decorum to blush. “I’ll finish the samples and get them ready for shipping.” Simmons nodded and cleared his throat. “Right. Call me if you need me. I’ll be just over there.” He strode purposefully toward the pool’s steps and winced as he got up to his thighs in the water. Then he arced under and was lost beneath the surface. Lee sighed and looked up at his next patient, a more recent addition to the ranks. Kyle Lambridge was a former staff member under Malloy’s employ. The young man had been careful to avoid contact with the other men, and Lee had been hopeful the boy could be cleared to leave in due course, perhaps even prove to be a source for an inoculation to cure the disease. Unfortunately, Kyle had proven to the contrary. His reaction when he finally manifested symptoms had been so violent that he practically jettisoned into the Gym Rat stage. As a member of his staff, Malloy had taken full “responsibility” for the boy and now watched over him like a mother bear. He trained him in the weights section. He pushed him to eat more than his peers. And his mental faculties, well.... Lee had managed to catch the two of them chatting in the locker room once.
“It’s not that bad, really, once you get used to it,” Malloy had said. “You just have to sort of accept it, ya know?” “But I--”
“No buts. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” “But I don’t want to....” “Bullshit. Your body wants to, so you want to. It’s natural.” “... Natural....” Lee’s breath had begun to take on a labored tone. “Does it feel bad to you?” “N-no, but--” “What did I say about buts?” “S-sorry, Sir.” “Now listen to me. Your meat’s trying to talk to you. Listen to it.” “I--” “Don’t think. Just do.” A low moan escaped Kyle’s lips. “Just ... do....” “That’s right, bro. Do it.” “Fuck,” Kyle hissed. He grunted and his voice deepened. “Oh, fuck.” “Told ya, lil’bro. Best feeling in the world, except maybe for a good pump.” Kyle chuckled. His voice deepened with every husky guffaw. “Fuck yeah, it is.” “So, you scared about it anymore?” “Fuck no! Huhuhuh....” “That’s a good bro. Finish up. We’ve got a lot of reps to do today.” “Yes, Sir....” He grunted again and chuckled. “Dunno why I was so scared before. I’m such a dumbass. Mmm ... yeah, just a big, burly dumbass....”
Lee had been quick to make his escape. He didn’t want to see what had just transpired, though he could guess only too well the lesson Malloy had taught his new protege. The fact the boy’s body and privates had both experienced a growth spurt less than twenty-four hours later only helped to strengthen those suspicions. He would be remiss not to admit the discussion had caused a certain amount of arousal. That was part of his reasons for spending so much time in the pool. The cooler water helped to shock his more carnal nature and left him clear-headed to focus on their work. Malloy soon approached. A confident easy-going grin was plastered over his face. He quickly wrapped a burly arm around Kyle’s shoulders as Lee finished the last of the bandaging. “Doc,” he acknowledged. “I see you’re doing well today.” He glanced down at Lee’s trunks and the grin widened as knowing eyes gave his expression just a hint of a sneer. “I like the look.” Lee shrugged. “I like to balance modesty with sex appeal,” he said bluntly. “The time we’ve spent here studying you has given me plenty of time to make my body more ... presentable for these.” “Oh, sure. Sure,” Malloy agreed amicably. “What are you up to now, anyway, a hundred pounds?” Lee grit his teeth as the familiar tingle rose in his crotch. “One twenty, if you must know.” “Not bad,” Malloy approved. “Keep at it and you might be as strong as me one day.” Lee nodded as he attended to the next patient. “Perhaps. But then again, I thought a man of your stature didn’t like competition.” “I don’t.” He wrapped an arm around Lee’s shoulders and smirked. “But I always make exceptions for friends. We are friends, aren’t we, Doctor Barton? Or should I call you...?” “Lee.” The word was out of his mouth before he could even think, and a sense of vertigo suddenly assaulted his senses. He grunted as he shouldered the extra weight Malloy forced on him. The man had quite literally become a block head. Every aspect of his jaw and features had become sharpened by angles to mutate into a bizarre parody of a polyhedron. His bristly beard scratched against the side of Lee’s head as he breathed heavily into the doctor’s ear. “Lee, huh? I like that name.” He released his deadly press and choke hold, then turned to Kyle and sneered. “Come on, kid. Time for your protein shake.” He laid a guiding hand on Kyle’s back and steered him away, even as the boy began to bounce his pectorals, just for the sake of the spectacle. Malloy stopped only long enough to turn around and offer his last farewell. “I’m looking forward to seeing more of you, Lee. Much more of you.” He sneered openly. “See you around, stud.” Lee couldn’t tell if it was a compliment, tease, or insult. Then again, it might have been some of all three. He subtly cupped his package on the sly. The effects of his dive in the pool had worn off. “Damn it,” he swore. It had only been a few minutes, after all. He peered over at the pool. Simmons had taken a seat on the edge at the deep end. The water glistened on his dark skin and he rubbed a hand absently over his torso as he watched a trio of Meatheads pose and flex by the hot tub. The desiccated remains of large plastic bags and the red dye on the labels indicated what had once dwelled within those coils. That and the small chunks of ice that had been thrust out of their makeshift ice bath to rest on the floor. He was too far away to tell, but Lee was almost certain his colleague’s crotch was bulging. No more joking. No more mocking. No more mimicry. After the way Malloy had treated him, it was time to face facts. Somehow, some way, they had become infected.
You asked yourself that question every day as you sat at your reception desk and welcomed patrons. Funds were tight, and it was a quick and easy job to get some cash on the side. You never pictured yourself working in a gym, but there you were. You often brought a book or some music to help drown out all the heavy clanking, though you would make some exceptions for certain songs that played over the speakers through the building from time to time.
The man was always quiet when he walked in. His gaze remained locked on the weight machines. Sometimes he would carry a gym bag in. Sometimes he would just go straight onto the floor, fresh off a run.
When he wants a machine, he doesn’t ask. People move for him.
When he’s ready for a break, a fountain or vending machine is always free, even at peak time.
His focus can’t be disturbed. Literally, it can’t. You’ve seen it. Some teen tried to muscle in on his session, when he was lifting. He just kept staring ahead as he strained his lats, or spread his wings as your boss likes to call it. The kid grumbled, but backed off. He knew he couldn’t do a thing to this guy.
It’s funny, though. His silence is sort of contagious. Whenever he works out, it spreads like a wave. The other men get this sort of intense expression on their faces, and then they sort of relax and just ... work. It’s kind of creepy, really.
The ones who work closest to this guy always seem to have the most progress. A look of shock, a big smile, then that blankness of pure focus driven by repetition. It’s always the same.
Always.
Just who is this guy?
You find yourself wondering this yet again as you stare sightlessly at the page on your book. You haven’t turned it in well over an hour. He’s been in your dreams the last few nights. You see him there, pumping weights, pushing himself. And suddenly you’re the one standing in his place as his hands are on you, guiding you, pushing you. You feel strain in your muscles. You feel your skin tighten and swell like a balloon with each pump and silent ministration. When your form is off, he corrects with his hands. The whole time, those intent eyes stare silently into your own. And you watch as that same expression slowly takes over in your reflection in those orbs.
You blink owlishly as a heavy tap on your shoulder pulls you back into reality again. How long had you been daydreaming about that dream? You look up.
“Sorry about that, S--.”
And there he is. Your mouth is suddenly dry. The words stick in your throat. Your breathing comes out in a rasp.
He stares at you questioningly for a time as he folds his vascular arms and cups his chin in a loosely clenched hand. Then he nods. He motions to the gym floor with a curt jerk of the head.
“Sir,” you finally manage to croak, “I’m on shift.” A heavy hand rests on your shoulder. You look up to see that same blank intensity that you have dreamed of beaming down at you from your boss, of all people.
“Go on.”
You swallow heavily. Even your boss bows to the will of this person. The owner of the gym!
You look back at the man. He’s still standing patiently and looking expectantly.
Your limbs shake as you rise from your chair. The whole gym is silent as you step onto the floor together. The man surveys the room as the music thrums and gives a curt nod to the gym goers. The motion immediately picks up again.
You weren’t even aware of your own motion as he guided you to a butterfly press. The seat was already vacated by the time you arrived. You sit and stare helplessly up at the behemoth that has guided you there. He places his hands on either handle, sets the weight, then nods to you.
You swallow again. Why were you doing this? Why were you letting him direct you? Why were you sitting here, instead of doing your job? And ... why is it getting harder to breathe?
Clank.
The man nods in approval and backs to a machine parallel to yours. Two handles link to the cables that attach to the weight plates. It’s already set to his weight, courtesy of whatever gym goer had abandoned it for him. You watch his muscles flare, his veins bulge, his biceps mount. His pectorals clench as his traps tense on the back of his neck and shoulders and his lats spread out. In that moment, you finally understand why your boss referred to them as wings.
Clank.
And he stares ahead as you stare. That same blank expression bores into you as the breathlessness returns.
Clank.
And again.
Clank.
Now you’re starting to feel warm. He continues to stare, and you continue to watch his effortless rhythm flow as the muscle groups in his arms and upper torso ripple one after the other in perfect coordination.
Clank.
How does he do it?
Clank.
Why did he pull you out here?
Clank.
Why couldn’t you take your eyes off him?
Clank.
Why...? Why...?
Clank.
Did it ... matter?
Clank.
Just who is this guy? you question yet again as you slog through the strange quagmire that is rapidly becoming your conscious thought.
Clank.
It’s only then that you notice the strange fact. Everywhere, the whole gym. Every machine is clacking together. The same pace. The same strike. The same rhythm.
Clank.
His rhythm.
Clank.
His.
Clank.
As you feel your face go slack and your eyes begin to glaze over, you finally understand the truth. You hardly notice the effort it takes to press the two bars together. Why should you? You’re following him. He sets the pace. He says when you’re done.
He.
He.
Him.
Just who is this man? He is the King of the Gym.
And you have just been inducted into his kingdom’s ranks.
Clank.
Your mouth opens as the quagmire thickens and sets. One last thought burbles up and splatters on the surface, before it hardens completely. You grunt it out in a low monotone as you push through another press with burning muscles and a mindless intensity.
“Long live the king....”
Who is this guy?
more elderly weightlifter
Don't skip leg day.
10/12/2014
6'7" 303 lbs
Ran half a mile in ~5 minutes, walked the rest. Treadmill set to random. I need to bring this up to a mile in 10 minutes (instead of the 14 min I had today)
Squat: 4x5 295, 305, 385, 385 (I need to increase the amount I do and public scrutany would help)
been lifting heavier and hopefully that shows
ow thighs hurt when squat or use them in general
ow abs hurt when laugh
ow armpits hurt when move arms
ow why do i work out(i love it)
You know
Sometimes when I see all of those sad, depressed and lonely people I really want to do one thing. Sit with them, give them cup of warm coffee or tea and just let them talk. Listen to every word, every bad memory, every painful thought, and then when they finish, just hug them with all the warm and love I have inside me. Because sometimes people don't need much. They just want to know, they are not alone and there is someone who will listen and don't judge. Who will give them hug and pat on the head. A bit of empathy and time, that's all they need.
If you need to talk, feel free to send me a message.
👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾✨ All kinds of women punching a hole in the unscientific idea that big women "can't be fit" and are "just automatically unhealthy"!
One day folk are just going to have to admit that the real concern that they have against fat people is them personally not being attracted... and SIT with that...and hopefully finally understand that the weight and shape of someone else simply ain't any of their damn business to mind 🤷🏾♀️
BEGGING FOR A KEN X TALL!BUFF! GN! READER AND HE COMPLETELY HEAD OVER HEELS IN LOVE WHEN HE SEES READER LIFT A WEIGHT AND BE LIKE... "Woah..." IN SUCH A IMPRESSED AND INLOVE WAY AND IS JUST GRATEFUL THAT THEYRE TOGETHER
꒰ ⊹ ˚ Summary — here are some bonding experiences that you and Ken have had, that include fitness!
Pairing — Ryan!Gosling!Ken x Gender!NeutralReader
Contains of — just pure fluff and moments of fitness and awe!
Babettes note — hopefully you enjoy this!! Sorry this took so long, I decided to take your request and turn it into head canons and make it fitness based if that’s okay!
Ken like to think he has background as a certified personal trainer so he will occasionally help design customized workout programs for his partner. This is a way to add guidance and support to your workout and add a bit fun into your guys relationship
For working out and going out to the gym, he would want to wear matching gear for sure, he thinks it’s a cute way to look good at the gym but also lets people know that someone as impressive as you is with someone like him, not that he doesn’t mind his physique but he fully believes yours is more toned, healthier and better than his but your reassurance would make any negative thoughts go away
Considering your buff I’d guess you’d be passionate about nutrition. Well so is Ken! You guys would experiment with balanced meal plans, incorporating superfoods and a variety of cuisines to keep your diet exciting and healthy and set monthly fitness challenges for each other, ranging from mastering a new yoga pose to running a certain distance These challenges can bring a sense of adventure to both of your guys routine.
Whenever he sees you on equipment or lifting anything remotely Heavy he is like jaw dropped and impressed by the slightest, he would be like “ oh wow that’s cool! “ in general but knowing that it’s you and someone he deeply loves and someone he is dating he is off the charts impressed and wants you to do it again and again like its something he can watch you do for hours and as if its some type of entertainment
Definitely have organized your workout playlists by tempo, matching songs to different types of exercises for maximum motivation. High-energy tracks to help each other up for intense sets, while soothing melodies accompany yoga and stretching.
Some exercises you guys do are considered dates to him sometimes your short vacations like that often revolve around adventure and physical activity he will view as spending time together and on a date you guys have explored hiking trails in national parks, surfed in tropical destinations, and even tried bungee jumping.
During those moments he really takes in your physical appearance, he really is fond of your beauty and the best state of your body and how healthy it is and shows your dedication towards fitness and On tough mornings you’d guys would stay in bed until 11:30 just to talk about whatever is on your guys mind and just use this as a reset and motivational moment
He wants you to be happy and your body to be healthy as possible so he believes staying hydrated is essential which is but he takes it to the extreme sometimes ,he would challenge you daily to met a water intake amount. And will always make sure your taking water breaks within workouts and in general
Since he is new to the real life word which includes social media I feel like he would be in awe with Pinterest, and how there are pictures for everything so he has definitely created a visualization board with quotes, images, and mementos that motivate him and you to strive for your goals. This is something I think he does unintentionally but I think he would like to start each day with affirmations that boost your confidence and set positive intentions for the day.
Ken is definitely active participants in body positivity workshops and seminars, advocating for acceptance and self-love and especially helping you to keep knowing or making you know that your body is the best and despite what condition it is in, it will always be the best one in his eyes
On the social media topic again he would love experimenting with fitness technology, using apps and wearables to track progress and optimize his workouts and seeing the different ways that technology could help improve muscle, I feel like at night when you guys are bored you’d guys research workshops and seminars on fitness, health, and nutrition, and be constantly seeking to expand your guys knowledge and expertise.
These detailed headcanons illustrate a dynamic,fun, fitness and passionate, and active lifestyle shared by Ken and you! Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading besitos 💋
becoming that girl is all about the little things you do in your routine
you have to be dedicated to becoming a better version of yourself and show up for yourself even when you don't feel like it.
sophsplantkitchen
ed blogs dni
Alrighty! Here's my first swing at a newer piece for this page. This was a fun magazine cover I did for my patrons last month, decided to post this one a bit early to kick off tumblr strong. There's a full-rez and textsless alt over on my patreon!~ (I'd link it here, but I'm going to make the assumption that tumblr doesn't like external linking so my info is in bio!)
Biceps are one of the hottest parts of a guy don’t you think?
Feeling big, bulky and strong after today’s gym session. I’ve been five days in a row, it’s going to be seven days before I have a rest. It seems to be working.
Since Sunday I’ve done chest, back, legs, chest and back. Legs again tomorrow.
