So imagine my surprise walking into the gym one day, thinking I’d get in a mundane treadmill workout and go home winded and 300 calories less, and see AJ teaching powerlifting in the freeweights section. Not wasting a single solitary moment, I rushed to the locker room, tossed my street clothes into the vacant locker, and burst out of the doorway to take my perch in the corner stairmaster machine. For the next thirty minutes, I climbed the tedious, neverending stairs and stared at an Adonis in the flesh. He was a lot taller than I’d expected. The pictures of course gave a subtle glimpse into his true stature, but my expectations were blown seeing this 6'5 giant Russian Deadlift in front of me. With every strain and lift, the bulging of his veins exuded a sense of vanity and pride that did not go unnoticed by the comparatively amateur gymgoers observing. His grey tank top clung to his body like a second skin, drenched in a thick monsoon of sweat and testosterone. A grey pair of bo