There are so many ways to shed fat. I know this, you know this, we all know this.
You can starve yourself thin – but for about a thousand different reasons, that’s not the best idea.
You can put yourself on a strict competition prep diet.
You can go on two dozen different types of the next fad diet – whatever is the latest craze – and yes, you’ll likely see some pretty good results right away.
The idea of a dramatic 12-week fat loss transformation is appealing because we think to ourselves that if we can just tough it out for three months, our lives will change for the better. We’ll finally feel fabulous and beautiful and sexy, and we will be better off for it.
You’ve been working your booty off for the past six months, and you’re on the verge of throwing in the towel because so far, you’ve got nothing—nothing!—to show for your efforts. No progress. None—at least that you can see.
You’re convinced you’ve tried everything under the sun, and you’re about to resign yourself to the idea that your body just isn’t destined to be in shape. You’re genetically cursed to wear a spare tire around your waist forever. And so on.
This much I know is true: I’ve been strength training for six years now. I can rock out chin-ups, pull heavy weight off the floor, and squat more than some guys I know. I drink protein shakes almost daily and sometimes take creatine as well.
This much is also true: I’m still small. I’m still petite. Still lean. My muscles aren’t big and, when fully dressed, no one has ever asked me, “How much do you bench?” And I’ve never been called “too bulky” in my life.