Mejia Michael - Scrawny to brawny: the complete guide to building muscle the natural way

NOTICE

The information in this book is meant to supplement, not replace, proper exercise training.

All forms of exercise pose some inherent risks. The editors and publisher advise readers to take full responsibility for their safety and know their limits. Before practicing the exercises in this book, be sure that your equipment is well maintained and do not take risks beyond your level of experience, aptitude, training, and fitness.

The exercise and dietary programs in this book are not intended as a substitute for any exercise routine or dietary regimen that may have been prescribed by your doctor. As with all exercise and dietary programs, you should get your doctors approval before beginning.

Mention of specific companies, organizations, or authorities in this book does not imply endorsement by the author or publisher, nor does mention of specific companies, organizations, or authorities imply that they endorse this book, its author, or the publisher.

Internet addresses and telephone numbers given in this book were accurate at the time it went to press.

2005 by Michael Mejia and John Berardi

Photographs 2005 by Rodale Inc.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any other information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.

Book design by Susan P. Eugster

Photographs by Mitch Mandel

Illustrations by Karen Kuchar

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Mejia, Michael.

Scrawny to brawny : the complete guide to building muscle the natural way / Michael Mejia and John Berardi.

p. cm.

Includes index.

ISBN-13 9781594860881 paperback

eISBN-13 9781594868627

ISBN-10 1594860882 paperback

1. BodybuildingHandbooks, manuals, etc. 2. BodybuildersNutrition. 3. Muscle strength. I. Berardi, John. II. Title.

GV546.5.M44 2005

613.7'13dc22 2004027349

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Hey, Skinny! Yeah, Im talking to you. Or maybe you prefer String Bean, or Gumby, or how about Bones? What? Like youve never been called at least one of these about a dozen times before. Every time you don a T-shirt, wear shorts on a hot day, or worst of all, go shirtless at the beach, you immediately become an object of ridicule. Youre pitied by women and mocked by guys with I.Q. scores only slightly surpassing the circumference of their biceps.

But hey, maybe none of that bothers you. Maybe youre the type whos content to let other guys lug around all those pesky muscles; you know, the kind that your significant other just drools over. Or maybe youve just convinced yourself to accept these perks because the truth is just too damn painful.

The truth is youre tired of busting your hump in the gym and not seeing any results. Youre fed up with working twice as hard as the guy on the bench next to you who seems to grow like a weed while all you can manage to do is resemble one. Youre sick of all the pills, powders, and shakes that promise the physique of your dreams but deliver nothing but gastrointestinal distress. But mostly youve just had it with all the wisecracks and putdowns you have to endure on a daily basis.

In fact, the only thing worse is listening to all the half-baked advice you get from friends, family, and fellow gymgoers who pretend to understand your plight. Things like Youve got to eat more. Really. Or, You gotta train harder. I see, so inducing an aneurysm is the goal then? Or, my personal favorite: Youre wasting your time; guys like you just cant get big. ARRRGGGHHHHHH!

If I sound like I speak from experience, its because I do. You see, like you, I too was once a skinny guy. Born with the classic long limbs and short muscle bellies that typify an ectomorphic physique (more on this distinction later), I never realized the disadvantages I would later face when discovering my penchant for pumping iron. You see, long arms and legs mean that weights have to travel an awful long way when being lifted. But well get to that soon enough. Besides, it wasnt all bad; having the wingspan of a condor came in rather handy as a kid on the playground. It made me a natural at blocking shots and snagging rebounds on the basketball court. And dont even get me started on throwing sports. Whether it was a baseball or a football, those same long limbs I would later come to curse allowed me to sport an absolute cannon for arm. Yeah, I guess you could say that despite a glaringly obvious lack of anything that even closely resembled speed, I was your basic 16-year-old athletic prodigy.

Unfortunately, raw natural ability can take you only so far. So, seeing as how there werent too many 6'1", 160-pound quarterbacks in the NFL, I figured I was going to need a big-time body to go along with my big-time arm. This realization prompted my very first foray into the weight room. It was there, in my friends basement as a 16-year-old neophyte, where I first learned just what a cruel genetic trick my parents had played on me. Training beside guys whose muscles seemed to inflate at the mere sight of a loaded barbell, I spent the most grueling and fruitless summer of my life.

Despite the fact that I trained harder and more diligently than anyone else, I had the least results to show for my efforts. In fact, it got so bad that, no longer wanting to be bothered with the chore of loading and unloading the bar between sets, my friend suggested that I work out on the other bench with his little brother. It was the weight room equivalent of being banished to the Thanksgiving kiddie table and it was absolutely humiliating.

I must admit, though, that it did prepare me for what I was about to endure for the next several years. Undaunted by my inability to gain any appreciable amount of muscle mass, I continued to hit the weights all through high school, even after my playing days were long since over. In fact, it became such an obsession that by the time I was 19, I was working as an instructor at a local health club, and by 21 I was working my way through college as a personal trainera successful one, I might add. Ironic, isnt it? Here I was, unable to reach my own physical goals, and yet I became rather adept at helping my growing clientele reach theirs. Talk about frustrating! Not to mention, pretty embarrassing.

I mean, come on, youd think that someone in my position would have a decided advantage when it came to building up his body. After all, I was in the gym constantly, knew tons about exercise and nutrition, and had the responsibility of feeling I had to look the part driving me. The funny thing is, in retrospect, Id have to say that these factors actually wound up working against me. Thats right: All that time in the gym and all those hours I spent reading about and experimenting with different workouts turned out to be somewhat of a liability. Oh sure, I learned a lot. Trouble is, the more I learned, the more scientific I became in my approach to training. And the more scientific I became, the more I drifted away from the heavy, basic lifts my body needed to grow.