Not as governor of California, but as Arnold the bodybuilder, from the neck down.
My quick solution to become an Arnie look-alike rests in a fantasy where another guy does all the gym work then transfers his six-pack abs and 30-inch waist to my sagging frame through a miraculous invention akin to the teleporter on Star Trek.
Poof! I've got 21-inch biceps.
When I hit 40, blood sugar rising and staring at a future in 38W Levi's, I was working at a seminary in Africa. One of my co-workers was a 24-year-old graphic artist named Innocent who looked like he camped on a weight bench.
Innocent would pat my pot belly and say, "Old man, when are you going to do something about that gut?"
Believe me, I had tried. Exercise. Diet. Failure.
But Innocent challenged me to meet at the gym every morning before work to reverse 4 decades of North American metabolic disorder.
He designed a program "to get results" and breathed down my neck to make sure I lifted with proper technique, completing every repetition. I developed pains that made me wonder if I had pectoral cancer.
Innocent just kept pushing and I lost 20 pounds. He helped me do something that I failed to do alone. Innocent also desired that I help him grow spiritually, and that motivated me to do breakfast at the gym.
We basically told each other, "I need you and you need me."
We developed an accountability relationship.
Read More at http://www.ccci.org/growth/accountability-with-friends.aspx
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