”You need more protein to build large muscles!” Leave me alone protein OCD!

When regular people see food, they usually think of its taste and price tag first. It’s not the same with bodybuilders dancing the mentally ill macros dance. Those individuals can only recognize protein, fat and carbohydrates. Harry TheBicepsFlexKilla was affected too. His protein OCD started a long time ago and was getting stronger with each month spent in the gym. That day was not an exception.

As usual Harry woke up at 7 am without an alarm. There was no need for ”beep-beep-beep” anymore cause he had become a clock himself. Going to bed at midnight? Still waking up at 7 to drink a protein shake. Going to bed at 2 in the morning? No problem! Still waking up at 7 to drink a protein shake. Going to bed at 6.45 am? Still waking up at 7 and still drinking protein.

Harry had become a machine controlled by a protein clock.

He was convinced that the only reason he was not growing like the guys in the magazines was that he was not eating enough protein. Therefore, he made a pact with himself – no less than 200 grams of protein per day. His obsession was having a serious impact on his life. There were nights when Harry had to walk for 30 minutes in the cold just to buy protein food from the closest 24/7 store and go from 185 grams daily intake to 200 grams. He was not messing around and the last 6 weeks had been straight – no deviation from the plan.


That morning Harry took his favorite oversized glass and put two scoops of vanilla protein in it. He added some milk and drank the mixture. Then he started getting ready for work with a smile on his face. Of course, he was not happy that his slave day was about to begin, but at least he had already consumed 40 grams of protein, and that was enough to keep him going.

“160 more grams to go,” thought Harry.

At about 9 o’clock Harry left the apartment. He was already at the bus station when he remembered something essential:

“I forgot to eat my tuna. Phucccccccccck me dead,” said out loud Harry.

The only person close to him was one of those granddaddies living their third, fourth or maybe even fifth puberty. The guy was easily over 60, and his headphones were pumping some strong house music at full volume. He had a goatee, dark glasses and one of those T-shirt that try to spread wisdom through trivial quotes written with funky fonts. The man didn’t even acknowledge the existence of Harry.

Harry went back to the apartment and entered with his dirty shoes on. He took a tuna can out of the fridge and demolished it in about 3 minutes. He almost vomited while running back to the bus stop, but it was worth it. He was 60 grams of protein ahead.

“140 more to go,” thought Harry.

At about 9:40 Harry was at work.

He had to participate in a meeting that was going to take place in the large conference room where the big TV plasma was. Truth be told, Harry was not really an important player. He was given the role of a filler. His boss wanted to impress another business jerker and demanded that Harry and a few other overworked and underpaid employees join the event in order to create the illusion of grandeur and importance.

The meeting was boring as hell and was nothing but an ego measuring contest between the two bosses. The whole time Harry was thinking about his usual 10:30 protein shake:

I need to drink my protein shake.

I need to drink my protein shake.

I need to drink my protein shake.

After 2 hours of the same loop the meeting ended and Harry was finally free. However, his protein timing was seriously off.

He took his backpack and headed straight towards the bathroom. He was mixing his protein elixirs there because he wanted to be at peace. For him drinking a protein shake had become the equivalent of taking a cigarette break except that it was considered much healthier and there were no hot secretaries to keep you company.

Harry also didn’t want to become part of the office gossip. He was working with far too many snitches with sick corporate ambitions. There was no need to break his image of hard working guy climbing the ladder. There was a problem, however. The long meeting had put the bladder of half the office to the test, and both bathrooms were occupied.

“Fuck this anti-protein world,” thought Harry.

He had no choice and went to the kitchen of the office where he started mixing a nice protein shake – vanilla flavor.

A couple of minutes later the protein shake was ready. The final product was absolutely gorgeous and had a viagra effect on bodybuilders. Before drinking it Harry decided to wash his protein scoop.

At this exact moment his boss entered the room.

“That looks nice,” he said and drank about 2/3 of Harry’s protein shake. When Harry turned around and saw what had happened, he experienced the deep sternum pain you get when you realize that the girl you like has been using you as a training dummy to improve her flirting game. For Harry this experience was even more painful because of his protein OCD. Everything had to be timed perfectly, and he was already off by 45 minutes. He imagined hitting his boss in the nut sack with a heavyweight golf club. In Harry’s mind protein thieves deserved serious punishment.

He stood motionless for about 15 second.

“Harry, wake up! I am not paying you to work in the kitchen. Back to work,” said his boss while dialing a number on his smartphone.

Left alone Harry drank the rest of the protein shake and ate a handful of raw material straight from the box without mixing it. There was no time to prepare another protein shake. Ironically, this was also the last available dose – Harry was officially out of the protein powder.

“80 grams of protein! 120 more to go”, thought Harry, went back to his and assumed the common neck forward gorilla posture.

Harry did not take anymore breaks and finished work at 8 in the evening. He was already feeling like a tired sled dog and just the thought of riding the disgusting bus full of dirty lowlifes for one more hour was enough to make him question his existence.

He decided to go to the local store and buy 200 grams of peanuts in order to add about 50 more grams of protein to his current investment.

“You have some peanuts,” asked Harry.

“Only roasted,” replied the shopkeeper. She had the pervert look – fake red hair, many tattoos on her forearms and decently sized cupcakes. The ambition deprived face was a legit deal breaker.

Harry was too tired to think of anything other than protein and did not pay attention to her. He just paid for the roasted peanuts, which were usually wrecking havoc on his stomach. 10 minutes later it was all gone.

“125 grams of protein. 75 more to go,” thought Harry.

An hour later Harry was in the elevator. The doors were almost closed when a fat hand slid in-between. It was Nickson – his upstairs neighbor. The guy smelled like a cigarette factory, had a fat gut and was successfully pulling the 45-year-old redneck look, even though he was 29. Nickson was a classic lowlifer, although in his mind he was the king of the street.

“How are you Harry?”


“You look skinny, brah! You need to bulk up like me,” said Nickson while trying to make his chest stand out. He failed miserably and the only thing that increased in size was his beer gut.

As you probably expect, at this exact moment the electricity in the building was cut. The elevator stopped moving and the lights went out. Harry was left alone in the dark with the king of cigarette smoke. However, that did not scare him that much. He was more afraid that he was missing quality protein time. He needed 75 more grams before midnight. It was already 10 in the evening. He didn’t have much time.

20 more minutes passed and nothing happened. The two men were screaming for help but it seemed like nobody cared.

Nickson sat on the floor and started chatting with somebody on his iFone. Harry knew better. He had personally seen one of those rat sized dogs using the elevator as an unload area. Harry concluded that staying upright was the better approach. “Fuck my life,” thought Harry.

After 20 more minutes of nothingness and annoying “lols” from Nickson, Harry’s protein OCD intensified.

“Not enough protein. We need more protein. The construction of muscle requires moooooore protein. Provide more protein,” were among some of the intrusive thoughts torturing Harry’s mind.

Just when he was about to give all hope, the electricity came back and the elevator restarted. Harry looked at his watch – he had to eat 75 more grams of protein in 15 minutes.

By the time he was in the kitchen the countdown was already at minute 12.

Harry opened the last can of tuna and ate it so fast that without slow motion effect it appeared that the metal can itself was part of the meal.

“145 grams of protein. 55 more to go,” thought Harry.

Thereupon he started looking for more protein in the fridge like a hungry vampire. Sadly, he was out of protein waffles and powder.

The whole time his OCD was screamin:

Not enough protein!

Not enough protein!

Not enough protein!

After 1 wasted minute Harry located an old pack of eggs. Some the units were broken.

Expiration date? Who cares? There was no time to read the label. The only thing Harry cared about was that an egg contains about 6 grams of protein and that was the most important thing.

“It’s time to be a man,” thought Harry and prepared to drink the eggs raw.

A minute later they were broken and placed in one large cup.

“1,2,3 I am in!!!!!!!! All or nothing! Fuck salmonella! Cowards never win!,” said Harry and began gulping the substance.

Harry looked at the clock when the mission was completed. The time was 11:58 and the OCD voice in his head was gone.

“I did it! 200 grams!!!!,” thought Harry while removing egg yolk from his mouth.”

Two minutes later he vomited in the bathroom and the OCD voice restarted. It had a question for Harry: “How much protein do you think you just lost?”

Harry had no answer and that made him sad.


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