In a previous post, I discussed the use of chemical nomenclature on supplement labels vs. common names. For whatever reason, some people are more impressed by stuff they don’t understand, so – from a supplement marketing perspective – the more complex you can make it, the more “high tech” and “cutting edge” it will look. 3′,5,7-Trihydroxy-4′-Methoxyflavanone looks waaaay kewler than “hesperitin,” though they’re the exact, same thing.
Yeah – I know…bad joke there. Couldn’t resist. 
It’s been three years since Will posted this on the “Bodybuilding Revealed” forum:
Pop quiz time! What do the following compounds have in common?
- 3β-Hydroxyandrost-5-en-17-one
- Diandrone
- Androstenolone
- 5,6-Didehydroisoandrosterone
- Prasterone
Here’s another scary article on the “dangers” of bodybuilding from the BBC.
Every time I see an article like this, I have a Pink Floyd flashback.
Now you’d think, in an age where obesity rates for young people are skyrocketing, that the ”experts” would be applauding these young men…they want to be fit and look good – what’s wrong with that?! Pumping iron sure beats the hell out of sitting slackjawed in front of the tube. Rather than clutching their pearls and getting the vapors over teenaged boys ”…losing some of their innocence”, these “experts” should be working with them to make sure that they have their diets straight, and don’t overtrain or injure themselves.
And – needless to state – they should be encouraging teenaged girls to hit the gym too!
The “Health” section of the BBC News web site is my browser home page, so it was impossible to miss this headline: “Bodybuilder scarred from steroids.”
Hoo-boy…here we go again…
Anyone considering using steroids to bulk up may want to think again after seeing pictures of the horrific scars suffered by one young bodybuilder.
German doctors were shocked at the extent of the massive, deep ulcerating sores on the chest and back of the 21-year-old man.
After antiseptic and antibiotic therapy the wounds healed but left permanent scars, The Lancet reported.
You might want to pause before clicking that link, btw…the pics aren’t very pretty.
I had to spend an entire day at the Seattle-Tacoma airport last week. Not my choice, really, but we had to fly my daughter’s best friend out there to catch her flight home to Ohio, and were stuck there until our return flight home.
It wasn’t too terrible, though. Sea-Tac is nice airport: it’s clean and well-appointed, with a ton of cafes and stores. So after Nick and I got Ashley onto her flight, we went window shopping, rode the trains to the outer terminals and back, and otherwise spent the time chatting. At one point, we hit Tully’s for a couple of lattes, and sat at the bar against the back of the cafe…it was a good place to put our feet up and do some people watching as we sipped our drinks.
While we sat there, we renewed a previous conversation about genetics, then segued into developmental toxicology. Just as we stood up to go, however, a heavyset, middle-aged woman who had been sitting a few feet away, rose to intercept us.
