I vividly remember the first time I stepped foot inside a gym. I was 14 years old and we had to drop my best friend off to catch a ride home with his uncle. His uncle, "Red," was a legend in our town amongst the young men because he was extremely strong. A mechanic by trade and a meathead at heart, Red was at the gym, EVERY DAY, without fail. He and his band of brothers owned the corner of the gym that housed the power racks, platform and all of the heavy shit. They called it "The ...
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