What you’re looking at is a close-up of Sylvester Stallone’s left arm, wrapped in what appears to be distended tunneling, courtesy of steroids.

It was then shaven and bronzed to set off the highlights.

This is what aging gracefully looks like to many affluent urban men; the same men who berate older women for plastic surgery overkill, but I digress.

Taking testosterone in combination with Human Growth Hormone [HGH] usually starts when a man hits his mid to late 50’s and realizes his endurance isn’t what it used to be.

He may also notice that losing body-fat requires twice the effort and ten times the pain, not to mention the emotional pain of endless dieting.

So he turns to testosterone because on a certain level it works as advertised.

You bleed body-fat while building muscle on half the sleep and twice the energy.

Bingo.

It’s become so “mainstream” I’m sure Prada will soon design cases for all the syringes.

My trainer knows which of his older clients ” juice” and which don’t and then trains us all accordingly.

I happen to be in the minority of men who do not take testosterone, which means I can only train hard 3 days a week for one hour, instead of 6 days for 3 hours a session.

As a result, my arms also don’t look like Stallone’s in spite of the fact that they are still lean and muscular.

As for my abs, they are visible, but not distended and sunken around preternatural ravines.

Remember, steroids build muscle everywhere except for the sexual organs, where they tend to have the opposite effect.

The upside for me is as follows:

1] My body can still produce its own testosterone naturally

2] I don’t need regular blood-work to scan for high PSA levels

3] I don’t succumb to things like road rage in spite of my already passionate nature. 

The downside for me is psychological: I am at a disadvantage around the men I train with who recover like teenagers on 4 hours of sleep.

It can be depressing, believe me. I’m walking wounded while they bounce off the walls like rabbits on methamphetamine.

Needless to say, the pressure to capitulate to the testosterone craze allure is constant.

I literally struggle every day to remain sober, this as the cacophony of radio and television ads and infomercials extol the virtues of the needle under the pretense of wellness.

With this as a backdrop, I have a power-lifting meet this July.

In order to exceed my previous records, I not only have to train brutally hard, but even more importantly, brutally smart given my mortal attributes.

At this writing, I’m still on the wagon. But it takes ever fiber of willpower not to indulge just once in the fountain if youth.

Fortunately, the USAPL drug tests, so there’s that.

But I know that time alone will tell whether or not I take the plunge because I certainly can’t guarantee it at this writing.

Stay tuned.