Jason Sottile writes
My thirteenth birthday present was a gym membership. Since that day, I’ve been addicted to the gym. It kept me out of trouble in my youth and gave me something positive to put my negative energy into as an adolescent. I grew up watching my mom deteriorate from Multiple Sclerosis. She was diagnosed when she was 39, I was 10. Since my early years in the gym, I’ve carried a dream of becoming a body builder. At the age of 35 and with the dreaded age of 39 on the horizon, I decided to make a serious attempt at becoming a body builder. Two of my coworkers recommended Stasi to me. From the first visit, I got a good vibe, a comfortable feeling that this was a good fit. I told her, “I want to know what it’s like to be a body builder.” In the end, like it or not, that’s exactly what I got.
Stasi seemed unsure of my capability to compete at first. She critically assessed my physique and noted areas that needed improvement. Stasi designed a diet and workout program specific to my needs. She recommended necessary supplements. Every month she would change the workout so that I wouldn’t become bored and would take my measurements to ensure the diet was working. As I hit plateaus, she tweaked the diet and workout programs to ensure my goals continued to be met.
After four months, I convinced her that I had the dedication to compete. She knew that I would do everything I was told to meet my goal. She continued to change my diet and workout to prepare me for the stage. As I struggled with the diet, she helped me trudge on, but not by guilting me. I was doing enough of that on my own. No, she would never mention my falls, she would just pick me up with a story from her competition days and help me move forward and feel positive again.
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