Memoir Short: That One Time my Beard Saved my Life

It’s just that the one part that made it all so impressive was a lie

Image elements sourced from 1) Gage Skidmore from Peoria, AZ, United States of America, CC BY-SA 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0), via Wikimedia Commons; 2) Madison Square Garden Center, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons; 3) Citius Altius Fortius, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

CW: disordered eating, medical treatment, family and intimate partner abuse, domestic violence.

TW: graphic images depicted facial injury.

I don’t talk about my fit gym boy years that often anymore.

Not because they don’t exist. They happened. I spent fifteen or so years boosting my previously non-existent testosterone and training my ass off in the gym.

They’re real. It’s just that a lot happened over the last few years, and it doesn’t take much to shift your perspective.

I only ever performed mock meets, but I pseudo-qualified as a Class 1 lifter with a powerlifting total of 1150lbs (NO REP!) at a bodyweight of 180-ish pounds.

I didn’t get there alone. No one ever does.

It’s just that the one part of it that made it all so impressive, was a lie.

Sydney (photo by author), Selfies by author

YOUR FIRST TASK IS TO GOMAD