Before & After: Glyn Harris

Glyn Harris

"I'm Sorry I'm Big And Strong."

This guy Oliver Bateman writing in The Atlantic is essentially  apologizing for his being a powerlifter-bodybuilder. 

So that’s what it’s come to now? Apologizing for not being fat and weak?

GQ Declares That Millions of Real People Actually Aren’t.

Whenever I read or hear from the whiny schlubs of this world, such as Gianluca Russo in the perpetually harebrained GQ Magazine, that the uncomplicated task of maintaining my one-and-only non-dad body is “unrealistic,” I wonder how does this poor dude not know how transparently insecure and inculpable he comes off? “Inculpable,” btw, is a fancy word that means “Hey, don’t blame me, it’s not my fault!”

I also quite enjoy being called “unrealistic” by an unaccomplished boy based on the fact that I respect myself enough to eat responsibly and exercise regularly. Because oddly enough, I realize that this body of mine has to last an entire lifetime. 

How is it we never read parallel pieces in GQ about how maintaining our designer wardrobe, our motor vehicle (car, ATV, boat, snowmobile, etc.), our apartment, computer or wristwatch collection is “unrealistic”?

"This is a fact: the vast majority of people put more energy, money, care and pride in their cars than they do their own body."

Endless hours are spent maintaining the steel vehicle that carries them through town, while zero hours are spent maintaining the flesh vehicle—their body— that carries them though life.

I have far more respect for people who, when it comes to living a healthful lifestyle, honestly state “I just don’t feel like it” than losers like Russo who write on and on—and on—trying to justify the unjustifiable. No one has to read between the lines to know that Russo feels awful about the self-neglect that gets triggered by his viewing photos of amazing physiques. Heads up, Russo: there are untold thousands upon thousands of males on Instagram and Facebook (and many more not on social media) who belie your screed about just how “unrealistic” it is to build and maintain a top-grade physique.

But I caution against your investigating these, as the sheer volume of "unrealistic" males on this planet might just send you into a tailspin.

SLATE: Nobody Likes Being Deceived

Clickbait has just about ruined what was once an enjoyable and formerly informative internet activity: browsing.

So often in more recent times I’ll see an interesting headline but then immediately move on without further investigation due to the deluge of lies and fakery of clickbait I’ve personally experienced. I can’t be the only one who’s insulted by the intentional misleading of clickbait, right? One key to a come-on is the use of the word  “secret.”

SLATE.COM has a department ironically entitled “An Honest Guide To Modern Life: Human Interest” under which the above screenshot for a podcast was listed:

The Secret Workout Actors Use To Get
Buff For Superhero Movies.

Smelling bullshit, and perhaps a pertinent item for my blog, I zoomed though it to hear the podcaster betray the cheezy headline by unequivocally stating, “There’s no secret workout that only Hollywood actors know.”

The moral of the story is that people desperately want a secret workout or magic pill because they recoil at changing the way they eat and adhering to any kind of challenging fitness regimen, thus they’ll reliably be suckered in by the promise of an easy fix offered by devious clickbait.

Germany's DW Network Documentary on Testosterone

Halloween Is The Only Time When A Disguise Is Appropriate

1915: In the Levi's Pavilion at the Pan American Exposition on Treasure Island in San Francisco, workers showed how Levi's were made over 100 years ago.

People looking to buy some new clothes fall into two categories: those who want to enhance their physique and those who want to disguise it. The majority are looking for a disguise, a cover up, a deflection from their physical flaws. But fact is, someone with a great body can wear virtually anything. Clothes look best on a fit body, a truth all the men’s magazines ignore for good reason: because they’re in the business of making money, and that means peddling clothes, especially expensive trendy “must-haves,” to the entire spectrum of body types.

My habit, save for a brief “trendy” period in my late teen years, has always been T shirts and Levi’s and basic classic American items. Astoundingly, many classic items that were around 100 years ago are still in fashion, such as Levi’s 501 jeans, Lacoste polo shirts, rugby sweaters, tank tops, military and cowboy-inspired looks, and much more. I really do get the attraction that the trendy and right-now have for us, but I’ve weathered enough decades to be able to look back and cringe at a lot of (formerly) hot fashion.

What I knew I looked good in were basic all-American fashion, which most of the time was cheaper than the latest trendy items. Yep, some fitness model guys do look good in skinny jeans, but in the 2020s we’re going to look back on everyday people wearing skinny jeans and cringe—maybe. Or maybe not, as I wrongly predicted in the early 90s that cargo shorts were so ugly that nobody will be still wearing them come Y2K. And yet here we are.

I currently own more clothing items found in thrift stores, vintage shops, garage sales and on eBay than I purchased new. The oldest item I have is 72 year old pair of Levi’s 501 jeans. Workmanship and quality these days is throw-away, but for around the same price, as I browse selectively, I can find beautifully made vintage wool shirts, sporting uniforms, Wrangler and Levi’s denim items, classic Lacoste shirts and more. While others are swiping thru Instagram, I busy myself referencing my curated list of bucket-list items and search for them on eBay, Etsy and the like. 

Most of us mourn a favorite clothing item that got worn out, ruined in the wash, or was lost. My tip for you is never use a clothes dryer. Line dry instead—your clothes will have 4X the lifespan. And wash fragile items by hand. Washing machines can destroy a beautiful item, but a clothes dryer will absolutely destroy a beautiful item, whether it be a vintage cotton T shirt or a new Brioni polo.

TRT Changes Men's Lives

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2019/sep/09/my-energy-is-back-how-testosterone-replacement-therapy-is-changing-mens-lives

Unqualified Female Writers School Men On Male Fitness

I am on the mailing list of a female writer whose main area of writer’s success seems to be fitness, and often male-specific fitness. She asks me for input on various articles she is writing on the subject. The problem is that she has a lot of weak areas when it comes to fitness knowledge and expertise, which she hopes professionals like yours truly will help her with by providing our input. My question is, how does this woman get so many writing assignments in an area in which she is deficient—fitness— and for an audience of which she is not a member—male—and why am I, fitness author and lifelong fitness trainer, not asked to write such articles? Why are so many men’s magazines and websites hiring women to school men on male fitness?

I began to notice the many workout, bodybuilding fitness articles regularly appearing on male-oriented websites and in men’s magazines such as GQ, Men’s Health, Men’s Journal and others, all written by females. Why are women given these assignments, and what qualifications do they have? No qualifications are listed; there are no photos of the writer included that allow us to gauge her fitness level, no biography citing her fitness expertise or history. And often the articles are absolute vacuous fluff offering little of substance, such as the one pictured above.

I have the same issue with male writers as well, as far as experience and qualifications, as rarely are these crucial details provided the reader so as to be able to quantify the writer’s suitability for advising per the subject matter he espouses.

As a male fitness professional who daily wears the proof of my knowledge on the subject, I put no store in uncredentialed females advising males on something they so clearly know little about. As a male I know precious little about estrogen and would feel like a fraud advising women on the subject. Are these publications assigning women these male-oriented articles because they pay females less than males, or perhaps nothing at all? Little other than that possibility makes any sense.

Chris Pratt: Destined To Be A Life-long FatBoy

https://pagesix.com/2019/08/12/ripped-rob-lowe-third-wheels-chris-pratt-and-katherine-schwarzenegger-for-beach-day/

Celebrity "Makeovers"—is there anything phonier?

 The list of names of celebs who have gotten into shape for a movie, who then immediately upon hearing “that’s a wrap!” revert right back to their original average schlubness is endless. Granted, there are a few who seem to maintain, more or less, such as Mark Wahlberg and Chris Hemsworth, but even those two vacillate between diamond sharp and puffy, as any Google image search will clearly reveal. Others, like Chris Pratt, will always be teetering at the edge of the cliff of flabbiness, ready to tumble over at any moment.

What’s maddening about this is that a Hollywood actor’s entire appeal and success is primarily based on their physical attractiveness. This is inarguable. Few ugly out-of-shape male or female actors ever become screen idols. And attaining the status of Screen Idol is every wannabe actor’s dream. Yet they bitch and moan about how hard it is to maintain. How unfair, what an ordeal it is to work out three days a week and not eat everything in sight —just so they can keep on earning tens of millions of dollars every year. 

We really feel their pain.

This might seem understandable on some level, as fame, fortune and celebrity status all facilitate celebrating: eating, drinking, drugging, having lots of sex, staying out to all hours, vacationing, relaxing. None of these however are entirely conducive to maintaining a rock hard body, dewey-fresh skin, or eyes free from dark circles.

And yet I, and many of you, who do not rake in $20 million for a few months' work, and do not have an army of employees to free us up from mundane day2day errands and chores, manage quite well to stay in great shape. Nothing in our lives requires this, yet we do it because we can, because we respect ourselves, because being and feeling strong and healthy are important for both our physical and emotional health.

So whenever I hear some entitled jerk, male or female, who by sheer luck has managed to rise to the heights of wealth and celebrity based 95% on their attractiveness, cry on some talk show about how unfair it is that they are under unbearable pressure to maintain their attractiveness, it makes me want to punch them in the face.

The Magnificent Linda Ronstadt

This post has nothing to do with bodybuilding, but I wanted to write about Linda Ronstadt this morning. Linda can no longer sing due to Parkinson’s disease, but I have at least a dozen of her CDs that I listen to often. I just read a disappointing interview with her in the New Yorker conducted by a younger person who didn’t quite have a handle on who Linda Ronstadt was.

In the early 1970s I was working as a photographer for the Canadian Press in Los Angeles, covering all the awards shows, doing interviews with celebrities, etc. I arranged an interview with Linda and was told to meet her at a tiny rehearsal studio in North Hollywood. She was rehearsing there with her band, which transformed to the Eagles a year or two later.

I sat on a stool right next to her. She sat on her stool in front of the microphone two feet from me and sang her entire set over a couple of hours with classic Eagles vocals backing her. I was in heaven. I loved Linda and her music, and the idea that I was an audience of one as Linda sang all her hits (including Dolly Parton’s “I Will Always Love You”) was one of the highlights of my life.

The lighting in the studio was terrible and my strobe was broken, and I only got off four or five shots between songs, including the one you see here. When there was a lull I had the balls to ask her if she might sing one of my favorites of her early songs, “The Dolphins,” and amazingly she obliged me.

We lived on the same street, Beachwood Canyon, but I had never run into her in the neighborhood. After I said goodbye I waited across the street for a friend to come pick me up. My car was in the shop. It was past midnight. Linda drove by in her green Datsun 240Z, stopped at a red light and waved. I was embarrassed I didn’t have a car and didn’t have the nerve to ask if I could have a ride home.

My ride never showed up.