Many of you have noticed my recent increase in mass. I was able to move from 91kg up to 100kg in 9-10 months while staying relatively lean. This increase in muscle mass laid a foundation for significant strength progress, breaking barriers I’d been facing for years. My inbox has been full of questions about how I achieved this. And the only major change to which I can attribute this progress is my eating. I simply started eating a lot more. As I’ll share shortly, my training frequency did increase to five sessions per week. But I’ve visited this level of frequency before and never saw anywhere near the results I saw this time. I can only conclude that the increase in food was mostly what enabled this progress.
I’m aware. 9kg/19.8lbs seems like a lot to gain in under a year. But if you break this down it’s less than 1kg or 2.2lbs per month, 0.25kg or 0.55lbs per week. This is very possible and reasonable to achieve without the use of steroids. For those who have similar performance goals, I’ll offer you the experience I gained during this period which will hopefully provide some guidance if you read and apply it critically.
Who Should Read This?
I should be clear from the outset. This is for those seeking—or those who have clients seeking—to gain muscle mass and have been struggling to do so. It is not for those seeking to lose weight or body fat. Since I don’t track calories or macro ratios I can’t provide guidance on how to use such metrics, but I suspect this article will still be useful to those who do track calories. We also won’t focus on micronutrients, food selection, or macronutrient ratios. I’ll mention a few things on those topics but the the bulk of our time will be spent on food quantity and how to adjust for this.
I’m writing this because, like many other topics I address, this was a struggle for me for decades. Though I was blind to the fact that it was a limitation during those years, under-eating severely limited my progress and potential. Eventually I found a way through, a way toward exceptional progress, and I want to share it.
It’s my understanding that my particular situation does apply very well broadly—to athletes, I mean, not the general population who chronically over-eat and under-dose resistance training. That is, statistically most athletes in most sports (except perhaps strong man, powerlifting and sumo) would benefit from eating more. I’ve seen this to be true first hand because I’ve been a friend, teammate, acquaintance, and coach to countless athletes in many sports. It’s a serious problem and it just is.
As an aside, we can see this same juxtaposition between athletes and the general population in regard to training. Most serious athletes would benefit from taking more rest, even more extensive rest periods. But that would not be good advice for the general population. Generally, most aren’t consistent enough. They find themselves taking long and frequent vacations from training not deliberately and strategically but due to poor organizational planning, emotional reactivity or both.
So this is important to understand: the content of this article is not aimed at the general population or people who dabble in resistance training occasionally and inconsistently. No shade, by the way, if that’s how you want to engage with resistance training; this article just probably won’t we very helpful to you.
Training Volume and Frequency
Before I get to the adjustments I made in regard to food, which is the subject of this article, I should say something brief about training. Without going into detail about exercise selection and set/rep schemes I will say that during this time I increased my session frequency to five and occasionally six sessions per week, whereas before it was 3-4x per week. I only mention this to remind you of the obvious: you can’t expect to gain this much muscle without training at a decent volume very consistently.
The volume within an individual session was not necessarily higher than usual. At times it was higher, at times lower. For example, when I was working through the ulnar nerve issue mentioned in the previous article on strict press, my pushing volume was unusually low. So it is with other patterns: volume for me tends to fluctuate intuitively based on shifts in recovery feedback, injuries, and my admittedly capricious curiosity. But as a baseline, I think it’s safe to say most sessions were 3-5 exercises, for 2-4 sets of 8-12 reps. At times I’d dip down into the 5-7 rep range, but rarely—maybe once a month or less for a given exercise—and only on compound movements like incline press or weighted chin-ups. For isolation work I never went below 8 reps. Conventional deadlift was one exception to this rule as I was using very sub-maximal efforts for 1-4 reps, superset with jumps or ploys.
What Changed?
The good news is, it wasn’t anything complicated. As I said at the outset, I really just started eating quite a bit more. And it was more of everything I was already eating. Otherwise there were no major or unprecedented changes. If you’re interested in more details on what my day-to-day nutrition looks like you can visit my article, On Eating, here on the site. But I’ll share with you the basics here.
I prioritize first highly nutritious and highly bioavailable sources of complete protein. That means animal proteins: eggs, beef, lamb, fish, chicken, whey, to name a few. This typically looks like stew and stir fry, combined with either rice or potatoes. One thing that has changed since I wrote the aforementioned article years ago is sourdough. Though for me it’s still not the top choice, I relax my gluten rule a bit when I’m around sourdough as I find it doesn’t bother me as much. Occasionally I’ll use it for a sandwich, French toast, or toast. But again, I don’t prefer it and still gravitate to white rice and various potatoes. I know I said I don’t measure macros, by the way, but protein is one loose exception to this rule. I don’t weight my food, but use rough mental math to gauge roughly 200-250g of protein daily. If I’m short, or don’t feel like eating I’ll throw in a whey shake (usually just whey protein, water and electrolytes).
In terms of fats, I get enough from animal foods so I don’t have to think about it really. I also cook some meals with ghee, though tallow would be a good alternative. I use butter, but prefer it as a condiment rather than a cooking fat. My body tells me when I’ve had too much fat because I get nauseous, sweaty, and lose appetite for 5-6 hours if I eat too much. Making this mistake a few times was enough to orient me to the upper limit.
I don’t limit or measure carbs. If I’m training consistently I eat as much as I fucking want and then some. If you’re noticing you’re low on energy or running out of gas 45 minutes into training, you should probably look at carbs. If anything during this period of adjustment carbs increased slightly more than any other macro.
A very typical day of meals looks something like this.
Upon waking, big 760ml warm water with 20g collagen, sea salt and creatine.
4-7 boiled eggs, + boiled squash or overcooked rice (all of these are already prepped and cold from the fridge), maybe a shot of honey.
Train when I feel digested
Post-training: Whey shake (whey isolate, honey, electrolytes)
60-90 min later: Minced beef stir fry on white rice with BBQ sauce or coconut aminos and pickled ginger
Work: Narrative Excavation client calls, writing, editing (2-4 hours)
Chicken Soup with carrots and rice or potatoes
Last snack: maybe a another whey shake + ice cream, or more boiled eggs and mochi. Usually this is something sweeter. I finish this meal about 3 hours before I plan to actually be asleep.
I do eat very regularly at the same times most days. I find this helps me stay on a consistent sleep schedule, and thus supports better quality sleep. And this really is what my day looks like, by the way. You know those videos on social media: an influencer does a “day in a life” style post, but you just know that’s not their average day; it’s all posturing. That’s not the case here. My day really does look exactly like this—and not for weeks or months at a time, but for YEARS. My girlfriend is often confused by how I can eat the same things every day and not get tired of it. Of course you don’t have to eat the same things every day. I just find it makes things easier for me in terms of time and simplifying decisions, since I prefer to spend that time mental energy elsewhere rather than on food choices, new prep processes, or figuring out what I want to order. If I get the impulse to order something different for a change, I’ll do that without hesitation since I’m already so consistent. Otherwise, it’s really variations of the same four to five meals on repeat.
So what does it look like to eat more? For me it means two things. One, I add a little to each meal portion—just a few extra spoonfuls of rice here, a bit more beef mince there. I gauge the amount by how full I feel. When I was eating to move from 91 to 100kg, I often ate to the point of feeling a little uncomfortable. Two, I add in a couple extra snacks (or shakes if the idea of food isn’t attractive) per day.
I want to be clear: I’m literally talking about overeating to fuel aggressive muscle and strength gain. This is not a protocol for health; it's for recovery and performance in serious resistance training. I don’t claim to know the effects on health and longevity one way or another; it’s my understanding that the average person should stop eating when they’re full. Especially when I was trying to meet these food requirements without shakes, there were times when I had to force myself to eat when I didn’t want to. I don’t feel this is sustainable, and it’s almost certainly not optimal for health in the long term. So for me about five months is the point at which psychologically I feel I want a break, just eat only when hungry. I personally haven’t experienced any downsides to this aggressive increase in food intake, except bloating and psychological eating fatigue; but this doesn’t mean you won’t. So proceed mindfully at your own risk.
But I have to say there have been many upsides to eating more, beyond strength and hypertrophy progress. For one my sleep quality increased significantly. When I eat this much I fall asleep faster, sleep more soundly and wake less often. Also notably, sex drive increased dramatically. This might be caused by a compound effect with other factors like the improved sleep I just mentioned. But it also makes sense biochemically that on its own greater food intake could increase sex drive. Being hungry elevates cortisol. This is why it’s harder to fall asleep and we tend to wake more often while fasting. Stress hormones like cortisol increase to drive us to seek food. Cortisol and testosterone, especially when cortisol is chronically elevated, have an inverse correlation. And testosterone plays an important role in motivation toward sexual pursuit. The opposite is also true: when we’re well fed, cortisol is low, testosterone is higher and so is sex drive. I also noticed I was generally less irritable, more energetic and optimistic in non-exercise activities—which makes sense given the relationship between hunger and stress just discussed.
In the end, these are just my anecdotal observations. You might have other conditions or peculiarities of body that lead to a completely different experience. But if you’ve been stuck for a while without progress, and you’ve adjusted all the other knobs like I had, then more food might be the missing link.
What if I just can’t stomach it?
If you’re one of those people who struggle to eat enough to fuel recovery and perforce in serious training because you simply don’t have the appetite, there are some little tricks that can help.
Eat less fiber. High fiber foods are very filling, cause bloat, and are generally not dense in bioavailable nutrients anyway. Eating less fiber and more calorie dense foods will decrease total food volume relative to the energy it provides. Simple. This makes it easier to consume more total energy. Just be wary of overeating fat, as I mentioned above.
Get used to actually being full. You don’t have to eat until you feel sick. But many people have a resistance to feeling very full. This is a feeling to which you can adjust.
Make it really tasty. Stop trying to choke down plain-ass, dry-ass food. If you’re struggling to eat enough anyway, go wild with condiments or seasonings if you want; play with different herbs and spices; indulge in the sauces of life. I have a dirty and unapologetic affair with BBQ and sweet and sour sauces, for example. Just check the ingredients, that’s all. This is the opposite advice we’d give to someone trying to lose weight. We’d tell them, “Watch out for hyper-palatable foods and sauces, and don’t keep a bunch in the house.” This brings me to the next tip.
Keep tasty snacks at arm’s reach. This doesn’t mean processed junk food; it means easy-to-grab foods that are tasty to you but preferably also nutritious. Some examples might be fruit, boiled eggs, jerky, boiled squash, ice cream, mochi, etc. Don’t beat yourself up, by the way, if you have a few processed snacks. I’d just recommend you read the labels and keep it as clean as possible (meaning as few colorings, preservatives, oils, flavor enhancers, emulsifiers, and dyes as possible). Notice I said, “As few as possible,” not, “None.”
I enjoy a snack occasionally but personally don’t prefer to eat all the time. So I generally stick to tips 1-4 while eating a bit more than I normally would at each meal. But you can play with all four and try to strike a balance.
But Won’t I Get Fat?
Yes, actually. If you’re not enhanced with PEDs, your body fat will inevitably increase slightly if you are eating in a surplus significant enough to see the kind of adaptations you’re likely seeking. You’ll have to face that. Of course at 100kg I’m not as lean as I was at 85-91kg; gaining this much weight after this many years of consistent training inevitably results in a bit of extra cushion. But it doesn’t have to be much. If you don’t go overboard, then the majority of weight gain will be muscle and water. I’ll leave a short note on this toward the end of the article. Even so, there is a degree to which you’ll have to accept gaining some fat if you’re going to increase your mass for the sake of notable performance progress.
I know it’s not as simple as saying, “Just accept it.” For many, the obstacle isn’t physical but psychological. Fear of increasing body fat is a real factor. It isn’t possible to address this here comprehensively because the fears driving this resistance are peculiar to the individual. To demonstrate what I mean, let me introduce you to Koby who will serve as a concrete example.
Koby is Afraid
Koby has built a weight loss service company and positioned himself as the face of that brand. Koby doesn’t particularly enjoy being very lean year-round but fears if he doesn’t stay lean he will lose clients. If he loses clients he will have to lean on his father for money again. And if he leans on his father for money he tells himself this would be more evidence that he’s a lazy, weak loser who will always be mediocre. The worst part about being lazy, weak and mediocre for Koby is the weak part. Koby’s resistance to gaining body fat is driven by a deeper fear of being a weak person who can’t take care of himself.
But let’s visit Koby again, and this time it will take a different turn so you can see just how varied these narratives can be.
Koby has built a weight loss service company and positioned himself as the face of that brand. Koby doesn’t particularly enjoy being very lean year-round but fears if he doesn’t stay lean he will lose clients. If he loses any more clients he won’t able to keep his company running. If his company fails Koby doesn’t know how he’ll cover rent and food costs. If he can’t pay for rent and food, he’ll have to move to a small basement apartment again and eat cheap takeout. When he did this years before he stopped caring about his health and fell into a depression. At that time life seemed like flavorless slop; nothing had meaning and nobody truly cared for him. Koby fears that if he falls to this low again, he’ll feel hopelessly isolated, lonely, disconnected from purpose and people. Koby’s resistance to gaining body fat is driven by a deeper fear of being alone.
Let’s go one last time.
Koby has built a weight loss service company and positioned himself as the face of that brand. Being the face of the business felt easy and natural to him, as Koby already keeps a lean physique year-round anyway. Whenever Koby notices he’s gaining weight, even just a couple of pounds or a little extra something on the abs, he makes sure to do a few extra sets here and there and cut his meal portions down a little. When Koby was young, maybe until age 14 or so, he was a bit chubby. Kids in school would tease him, sometimes even bully him. He remembers one day in 7th grade he was invited to hang out with a group of boys after dark at the school. It was unusual, but he went anyway thinking it might be fun. When he showed up the boys were throwing rocks into the dumpster to see who could his it from the farthest distance. They greeted Koby excitedly and one of the boys put his arm around him, encouraging him to have a go at the game. Koby picked up a rock, stepped back, and wound up throw. But one of the boys crept up from behind, pulled Koby's pants down and pushed him over. They all laughed and made comments about how fat his legs were. Koby fears if he gains weight people will be cruel to him again, hurt him physically and emotionally. Koby’s resistance to gaining body fat is driven by a deeper fear that he’s not safe because people are mean and want to hurt him.
Why Koby is Afraid
Even in the same scenario, same symptom [resistance to weight gain], we see a variety of plausible fears and specific experiences backing those fears. Only you have access to what is driving your resistance. And getting to the bottom of that will take some observation and practice over time. But we can say something general here: the attachment to being very lean—especially when it’s producing dysfunction—is a mask in all of these cases. I’ll explain what I mean by mask.
Over the years of developing and applying my practice of Narrative Excavation, I’ve uncovered three fundamental mechanisms: primal fears, fear narratives and narrative masks. Let’s address fears and their narratives first. In reaction to our primal fears we employ narratives to leverage stress with the aim of avoiding trauma. Based on experience we form a story that looks something like Koby’s: “I’m not safe because people are mean and will hurt me,” for example. This story serves as a heuristic, a rule presented to the self as a personal, permanent, pervasive and pivotal truth statement. Being in danger of harm from malicious intent, as in this example, even if it’s only in perception, is registered as a serious problem. The primal fear narratives—I’m alone because___, I’m bad because ___ and I’m not safe because ___—enter as the organism tries to identify the problem in an actionable format. It’s complicated to solve the problem, “In some circumstances, some of the time, some people might want to hurt me, so it’s up to me to find ways to discern when this is the case by skillfully reading subtle behavioral cues.” This problem suddenly becomes a lot simpler and actionable when I say, “People are mean and want to hurt me, so I’d better watch out.” When this heuristic is triggered, justly or not, we slip into a problem solving mode driven by stress. This is why fear narratives are such effective drivers of behavior. The stress sates (fright, fear, anger, sad, and physical pain) compel us to react. Rather than doubt, deliberate and weigh conditionals, we are compelled to act on absolutes.
But it’s by this same mechanism that fear narratives take such a heavy toll. Since they are most often triggered by a subconscious reaction, they tend to be applied haphazardly and far more broadly than needed. Many practitioners of Narrative Excavation have compared these narratives to fumes we breathe constantly but can no longer smell, or opening your eyes underwater and forgetting the water is there. These narratives along with their associated stress states become molecules in the air we breathe, hues in the light we see, vibrations in the words we speak. And, frankly, this sucks. It isn’t a nice texture of experience.
This is where masks enter the frame, reactively, promising to “solve” the “problem,” reduce stress and inject some positive emotion. This makes the incessant tinge of the stress states more manageable. Masks are not always behaviors, as they sometimes manifest merely as perspectives or thoughts that shift experience—“Yeah, I look good today,” as an affirmation that masks, “I’m bad because I’m ugly,” for example. The fear that I’m ugly remains as a deeper default rooted in past trauma. The mask only attenuates the symptoms of that fear.
So far, in ten years of developing Narrative Excavation, I’ve identified and distilled six universal narrative masks: affirmation, negation, avoidance, dissociation, resignation and blame. I won’t go into the definitions and details of each here. But all of these are strategies to either 1) drive us to behavior we expect will solve the perceived problem or 2) shift our perspective and feelings about the perceived problem. These “solutions” are reactive so they’re often near-sighted and poorly strategized. Their results tend to be superficial and fleeting—if they don’t lead us to the very problem they promise to solve.
Facing the deeper underlying primal fears matters a lot. Observing them directly and explicitly impacts the narratives and narrative masks downstream. Without this it will be more of the same superficial patchwork of coping strategies leading us in circle after circle, to the same spot again and again. Without additional catastrophic trauma—being forced to face one’s own mortality for example through an accident, death, or rock bottom in some form—such a shift will not happen on its own for adults. The fact is, we don’t WANT to change. We take the fear narrative as a truth, and so the mask feels necessary in a dire sense. Intervention is needed in the form of a consistent observation practice which cultivates awareness of the fears, narratives, masks and resulting compulsions. It’s necessary to look at the narrative as a narrative, rather than unequivocal truth, again and again—to face the cost of its masks and other downstream consequences, again and again. Once is not enough; an insight is not enough; intellectual ‘understanding’ is not enough. It has to become almost reflexive, fast and familiar, a deep body understanding, through repetitious practice.
When we are able step clear of these fears, and from our attachment to their narratives and masks, the result is that we’re often free to look out over a different view. Even the logistical reality of the situation is clearer. What is that, in this case? Well, the logistical reality is that in order to make exceptional strength and hypertrophy progress a significant food surplus is required. We’re also free to have a completely different experience and feel the rewards that come with that. This further reinforces the shift.
How Do I Know It’s Enough Food?
If you’re not acquainted with calorie tracking, as I”m not, there are a number of ways to gauge how much food is enough.
Satiety signals and duration
Energy levels
Hypertrophy
Strength
Injuries
Weight
All of these can help you know when enough it enough. Satiety signals are hormonal, but manifest as sensations in the body. Spending time to deliberately become acquainted with these sensations, and when they might be confounded by emotion, is a useful practice. Duration of satiety also matters. How long does it take for me to feel hungry after I eat? If it’s a few hours, probably that’s appropriate meal portions. If I can’t bear the thought of eating again for five hours, probably I overdid it. If it’s less than an hour you’re probably not eating enough or are under-eating proteins and fats, which are more satiating than carbs.
Visible hypertrophy can, over the long term, also indicate whether you’re eating enough. After five months, do I see visible changes in the size of trained muscles? Same with strength: long term progress, when combined with other metrics, can indicate whether we’re eating enough. Like hypertrophy, though, on its own strength is an unreliable metric for food amount; there are too many confounding factors. But strength, interestingly enough, can also give us information in the short term. If I feel unusually weak, or lack energy, this might be associated with a dip in calories. Or I might not be eating enough carbs. I’ve noted this when training with people on the ‘carnivore’ diet. Their eyes start to glaze over after 40 minutes of actual training and when on their own they spend the majority of their sessions rolling around on the floor doing ‘mobility’ [fucking around on their phones]. They don’t have enough immediately available energy because they’re underrating in general and also underrating carbs more specifically.
Injuries tend to occur more often when we’re under-fed. Like all the other metrics, there are confounding variables that make this an unreliable gauge on its own. But when these combine it can be more telling. If I notice I’m starting to accrue a bunch of small injuries, don’t feel energetic, am not seeing hypertrophy and strength progress, and am often hungry, then its safe to say I should look at whether I’m eating enough.
Body weight as a general measurement can also be used to guess whether we’re eating enough. But this can be tricky business. I’ll address this point in a bit more detail than the others.
The Scale Should Be the Tool; Not You
Your weight naturally fluctuates by as much as 1kg or 2lbs daily. So the numbers you see on the scale don’t strictly represent changes in actual muscle or fat tissue. Some factors that affect this variance include fluid and food intake, water retention in muscles, and bowel movements. Depending on these factors and the time of day you step on the scale, the number might be very different. What does this mean?
First: it’s unwise to let small fluctuations in weight determine your mood or decision making, as these likely mean very little in the big picture. Second: getting an accurate read on actual changes in tissue composition requires that we measure and take these confounding factors into account AND that we place more emphasis on the changes observed over longer periods—say, several weeks or several months—rather than daily.
To synthesize these two points, you’ll need to note the average daily fluctuations you observe over weeks and months, then factor that into the changes you see in weight over weeks and moths. Let’s say we’re at week one. Over a week I notice my weight fluctuates by an average of about 0.7kg throughout the day, putting me between 71.8-72.5kg that week. On week four let’s say that range shifts to 72.3 at the lowest and 73 at the highest. Well, that means I’ve gained roughly 0.5kg. But I have to also keep in mind this number might be skewed by factors like unusual fluid consumption and retention. So I can ask if anything is out of the ordinary or different than it was on week one. In any case, you get the idea. Using numbers on a scale to determine if I’m eating in a surplus is really only useful if I’m measuring long term and factoring in other causes of fluctuations in weight.
Do Hormones Matter?
Yes, in my view they matter a lot—especially in the long term. Many hormones like cortisol, estrogen, testosterone and progesterone play important roles in fat storage/utilization, muscle anabolism/catabolism, and strength development/degeneration. But luckily, if you don’t have an endocrine disorder, balancing these doesn’t require a chemistry lab or blood work. Get enough quality sleep, spend ample time in nature or at least in sunlight, exercise at appropriate doses, cultivate deep and fulfilling social relationships, and eat enough nutrient-dense animal foods. Our endocrine system will take care of itself when we do these things. I tend to focus on these things rather than fixate on abstract chemical names and obsess over numbers. I’ll share with you, by the way, that I don’t have outrageously high testosterone. Every time I’ve done blood work my total testosterone has been between 300-400ng/dL. Some would consider that low-normal range. But it obviously hasn’t been a problem for me. There are other factors to consider of course like LH and FSH which play a role in how well we utilize the total testosterone in circulation. But anyway, a lot of people freak out when a blood test shows T levels in this range. They’re just numbers. As long as you’re feeling well, sexing well, sleeping well, recovering well, and making progress, there’s no need to fix what isn’t broken.
Conclusions
Most of you probably came to this article with questions about how to “bulk” or grow an exceptional amount muscle tissue in a relatively short time. Hopefully what I’ve said here has given you a more rounded and clear picture of what is required to achieve this and how to overcome some obstacles you might face in the process. There is one last point, though, I feel I should, make. That is, don’t try to rush the process. As a natural athlete, if you try to gain more than about 1kg/2.2lbs per month, there's very a good chance most of that will be fat. If you’re a beginner or training consistently for the first time, then you can probably exceed this by a bit. Otherwise, if you’re gaining faster than this and you visibly notice significantly more fat [remember, some extra fat is inevitable], then don’t panic. Just scale it back a little each meal until you hit a sweet spot. It is a practice, and by definition a practice requires mistakes and many small adjustments. So expect that; be ready for that; enjoy that.
- D
Thanks for reading and listening. By the way, If the psychological aspect of this article intrigued you or fits your case, you would likely find benefit in the narrative excavation practice. NE is an introspective psychology framework I developed over the last 10 years. It’s aim is to use structured practice to build a high level of skill, like we’d build skill in physical development, in observing the fears, narratives, and masks that drive stress-oriented behavior—which is to say, most behavior. It isn’t a form of therapy, as it doesn’t operate in the disease and disorder centered paradigm. It’s a method of self observation and assessment, and as such can be learned and applied by anyone. Currently I teach this practice in a 1-1 full mentorship format. Soon I’ll be adding more information including pricing on narrativeexcavation.com. But in short, if you have USD$2,000 or more in expendable income per month, then we can arrange a payment structure that makes sense for you. I’ve found NE to be more impactful in shifting behavior and experience than any other intervention I could offer, which is why I’ve turned by focus to it more and more as years pass.