Milk. Where's your mustache?

Yesterday I met with my personal trainer. He turned out to be a huge, built guy with a buzz cut from the medical school. The other one, surprisingly, was an equally huge guy from the engineering school. My trainer asked me what my fitness goals were and created a routine for my body type. We went to the weight room and he showed me all sorts of exercises I would have never thought of doing before. Some of them were pretty intimidating and maybe a little embarrassing for a small guy like me to do: the Bench Press, the Military Press, and especially the Squat -- but pretty soon after showing me, he would have me doing them like clockwork. Suffice it to say, I’m sore as fuck this weekend. I’ve never felt this good about pain though. This morning I lay in my bed with my chest and legs hurting and I felt good about not being able to get up. I’ve been eating like hell too to keep up with my training. I’m to eat a thousand more calories each day to fuel muscle growth. I’ve been eating eggs and whole-wheat peanut butter sandwiches like crazy, and I have a protein shake three times a day. I don’t know how long I can keep this up (it takes up quite a bit of time to prepare food, eat, and clean up so often), but I’ve been trying to eat every two hours. I start off with a stack of sandwiches in the morning and carry them around in my pack till they’re all done by the end of the day. I am never skipping a meal again. That to me now is the ultimate sin, and probably the reason why I couldn’t gain a single pound last year. I’ve been keeping a food journal too to keep track of how many calories and grams of protein I have in a day. Yesterday, I ate so much it amounted to 4140 calories. I guess that’s a thousand too much than the 3000-3500 I was going for, but I got scared I wasn’t going to meet my goal yesterday and had a gluttonous 600 calorie shake after lunch to make up for lost time. Guess I didn’t need it at all. My protein tally was pretty good though. After yesterday, I had consumed 218 grams of protein. That’s at least three to four times what I would have consumed on a normal day before, but it’s clear I wasn’t getting enough of it before. I’ve switched all the candy in my room for jerky, and I’ve acquired a fine taste for smoked meat. I’m staying away from fat though, as my calories should ideally come from carbs. My chest is still sore as hell today, but I can’t wait to work out again on Monday. Mike is undoubtedly going to start making fun of me, but I figure once I tell everyone about this thing, guilt is going to keep me from going back.