Holy mother of gainZ, you beautiful specimens of intellectual curiosity! Listen up, because after nine years of blood-soaked manuscript pages and enough caffeine to kill a small horse, I've finally birthed this monster into existence... ...We're talking about Triphasic Training II, and sweet Neptune's trident, it's a savage piece of work. Let me paint you a picture of pure madness: But here's the thing, you magnificent bastard – this isn't just another textbook destined to prop up your wobbly coffee table. Here's what we're mainlining straight into your training arsenal:
And let me tell you something – this isn't some rehashed broscience garbage. The best part? You want to know why I've been quieter than a mouse at a cat convention this week? This isn't just a book – it's your ticket to the kind of performance enhancement that makes mere mortals question their life choices. Grab your copy now before the algorithm overlords at Amazon realize what kind of forbidden knowledge we're distributing. haha. Questions? Until then, keep pushing the limits of human potential, you beautiful maniacs. Yours in the pursuit of superhuman performance, PS. - Nine years. Nine. Years. That's longer than some species live, and I poured every ounce of my twisted genius into this thing. Don't make me wait another nine years to hear how it transformed your training. _____________________ Mike T Nelson CISSN, CSCS, MSME, PhD Mike T Nelson is a PhD and not a physician or registered dietitian. The contents of this email should not be taken as medical advice. It is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any health problem - nor is it intended to replace the advice of a physician. Always consult your physician or qualified health professional on any matters regarding your health. |
Creator of the Flex Diet Cert & Phys Flex Cert, CSCS, CISSN, Assoc Professor, kiteboarder, lifter of odd objects, metal music lover. >>>>Sign up to my daily FREE Fitness Insider newsletter below
Listen up, today is the day after Christmas and smack dab in the middle of the HolidaZe. I am sure you have seen some beautiful disasters of dietary debauchery.... I'm writing this from the smoking ruins of what used to be my kitchen, surrounded by the evidence of Christmas carnage: empty cookie tins, abandoned eggnog cartons, and enough wrapping paper to blanket a small country. The holiday feeding frenzy has claimed another victory, and we're all lying in the wreckage wondering what hit us....
If you are new here- welcome! And here is my annual tale of Christmas Eve lutefisk style. When growing up for every year of my adult waking life that meant one thing… ….lutefisk. Up until around 10 years ago. More on why that is important coming up, but first some background for the lutefisk naïve. It is pronounced as LOOT –A – FISK. If you are in Minnesota like I am, make sure you do the OO sound really long. LOOOOOOOOOT –A – FISK. If you do not know what it is, consider yourself blessed....
You there- savage of the Iron Temple, gather 'round! I am transmitting live from the feverish depths of a Festivus where the weights clang like demented church bells and the chalk dust hangs thick as conspiracy theories at a flat earth convention. Let me tell you about my latest descent into the madness of strength - the Thomas Inch dumbbell, that cruel mistress of cast iron weighing in at 175 pounds of pure malevolent intent. Picture, if you will, a handle as thick as a beer can, mocking you...