Bigger Smaller Bigger

by with John Berardi & Martin Rooney

Stunt Driving and Headbangers


My day started off great: with a sprained ankle and the brakes on my car going out while driving.

The first happened as I was doing the “backwards run” part of my warm-up, which is the most pathetic, pussified way of spraining your ankle ever.

Luckily it was an upper body day, so my shitty ankle didn’t really affect the workout.

The second happened as I was driving from the gym to the grocery store to grab some lunch. I was in the turn-lane with my blinker on, coasting along at 25 miles per hour with a green light. I pressed on the brakes to slow down before making the turn and the goddamn pedal went all the way to the floor with absolutely no resistance.

I immediately used my e-brake to slow down, made the turn, and gently coasted into the grocery store parking lot where, magically, I found an empty space.

After calling Jordan and informing him that we’d be taking his car to the concert, I called an auto repair shop that happened to be a couple blocks away. I learned it’d cost a few hundred dollars to tow my car 700 feet.

So instead, I decided to drive there using the e-brake.

30 minutes and $1,140 later (note: never buy an Audi) I left my car in the shop and walked back to the grocery store to grab my lunch. Jordan picked me up and drove me home where I hurriedly showered, changed, and packed while him and Mike waited outside.

Then we took off and things improved dramatically.

On the way there we listened to Louis CK — my favorite stand-up comedian — then checked into our fancy hotel room (where we were by far the youngest people there) and grabbed dinner before the concert.

(I had steak, garlic mashed potatoes, veggies, a huge salad, apple sauce, two beers, and an extra burger with pineapple and ham on it. The waitress seemed weirded out, but Jordan and Mike thought it was awesome, and even ordered an extra burger each. I was proud.)

The concert was about as much fun as a head-banging death-metal concert can be; which is to say, the music was OK, but the people-watching was amazing.

Later, after getting back from the concert and lying down in our beds, I got up to piss and upon placing my feet on the ground was unpleasantly reminded that my ankle was indeed still fucked up.

I hobbled to the bathroom in pain.

Not good. With only two more weeks remaining to get big I can’t afford to miss a single workout.

Other highlights from Day 12

  • Laughing at the confused look on my little brother’s face when a dude from the hotel asked for his car keys. (He’s never had his car valet-parked before.)
  • Counting how many guys with longer-than-shoulder-length hair were at the concert. I lost track after I hit 30.
  • Feeling proud that I stuck with the workout after I sprained my ankle. Shit happens, right? It’s always better to work around it and move on when you can.

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