by JeffIn between busting my shoulder and getting it operated on I was in an emotional rut and grasping at solutions. Without a formal medical diagnosis I was eating up every supplement that claimed to fix what presumably ailed me, experimenting with different training regimens and exercises and picking the brain of every person I met who claimed to know a thing or two about sports injury.

I was at the point that I'd probably rub crystals on the damn thing if I had only found a good crystal guy.

Eventually I came across a guy fresh out of preliminary SEAL training-- BUD/S. I've long known that the training was rough, often inflicting debilitating injuries that could cause a sailor to either wash out of the program or be forced to start over. What I didn't know was that a lot of guys who would go down to Tijuana for steroids in order to work through the injury and make it through the program.

"Some guys will juice to bulk up, but most of these guys are using low dosages of Deca and maybe a couple other things. Equibolon, a little sauce maybe." he told me.

I just sort of nodded along. This was like robbing a bank to pay my bills and I wasn't exactly sure how I felt. Especially since I didn't know anything about those substances, let alone the act of procuring them.

"Dude, if you want I can introduce you to a guy who can get it for you and give you a much better idea of what you could take."

"Probably a small dose, like something you'd give to your girlfriend."

My face was still blank.

"You know, if you want to try it..."

I've never put a syringe into my own body. I've never walked across the Mexican border, my crotch bulging with bottles of horse and dog medications.

Inside of a week I'd be doing both on a regular basis.

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Posted by Jeff at 9:21 AM

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