Met a bloke named Sam at the park a few weeks back. Turkish fella with 4 kids, problems with the wife, but a sharp eye on fitness and wealth. We met Tuesday for a boys night out. A native of the area he filled me in on some of the good places to grab a kabob and showed me some interesting sites. One of which was the largest street market in England – a mile long strip located near Walthamstow Central – that at the time was closed and half full of the day’s rubbish blowing around the street.

We then went to the Walthamstow village square, which is one of my favorite places to hang out at. The square was mostly empty at the time save for two fellas casually bullshitting at a bench near ours. We ended up striking up a conversation with them. One of them was Italian, the other was some smartass from Venezuela I think. Not a smart ass in a provocative kinda way, just one of them folks that doesnt get basic social decorums. One of those folks that you half respect and half dislike for their lack of thought-to-speech filtration.

Sam is 42 years old, and ripped like a godamned Roman statue. How do I know? He was all too happy to show me pictures from his workout session that morning. I had already suspected he was in good shape during our meetups at the park, but its cold ’round these parts so ye really cant tell to what degree. Hell even I look pretty stacked with my coat on. Anyways, the dude is movie star material.

Actually on that note, Sam used to be in a boy band back in the 90s. Travelled up and down the UK doing concerts and festivals. Knew one of the Spice girls as well. Told me about all the crazy times he had back in the day.

Sam doesn’t really drink, only eats during the last 8 hours of the day, and works out 5 days a week. He’s inspired me actually. I really didn’t think you could have a washboard stomach in your 40s. You sure can. I will never have one because I like beer too much – but it is a nice reminder that one can still look like a spartan at this age.