Bring on the iron

The Perfect Aryan Male and his 18-inch biceps showed up at our door, so for old time’s sake we hit the gym at the first opportunity. TPAM’s looking practically skeletal these days, having dropped to a mere 230, so this time we only had to borrow one gym girl to sit on top of the stack while he pressed triceps.

It’s good to be pushed by a bigger dog, though, as I managed to power through a solid bench at 300 before choking twice at 315. I thought I had it for a moment; the bar was under control and moving off my chest but I couldn’t get it past that little break point that’s about two inches up, at least not without help.

Boy, am I wiped out….