The word bodybuilder typically provokes images of muscleheads grunting brutishly in the gym, tossing around more weight than a Mini Cooper; however, at one-hundred and thirty five pounds, and barely lifting more than my own bodyweight, I too consider myself a bodybuilder. Classics such as Franco Columbo, Lou Ferrigno, and Arnold Swartzenegger inspire bodybuilders to push one more pound, run one more mile, and perform one more repetition. Bodybuilding is not a hobby; it is a way of life. From the moment you wake gulping a protein shake, to laying in bed at night after an excruciating set of squats and remembering each of the eight meals that day, dedication is an understatement.
             Four years ago, I would have never expected to be going to the gym four times a week, eating 6 meals a day, or know more vitamins, minerals, and supplements than most physical education teachers. I would have probably been out skateboarding with my friends, but my skateboarding career was quickly cut short. A lack of judgment, along with unforgiving steel, provided me with a complimentary trip to ER and one shattered collarbone. The break was so bad that the bone would not fuse without surgery, plates and screws included. The road to recovery was long, hard, and very frustrating. My sister, who is a physical therapist, prescribed me some simple exercises and stretching. This allowed me not to let my muscles wither away while the bone was healing.
             Despite my greatest efforts, there was still muscle atrophy, and one more surgery to remove the plates and screws. My doctor had told me it was a good idea to perform some light weight resistance activity to promote muscle growth and recovery from the trauma. Once again, I was back at the gym. This second recovery period allowed me to gain a general knowledge of working out along with some muscle gains. I became more and more interested in all aspects of working out including nutrition, supplements, t...