To walkme through the body transformation I enlisted the help of fitness professional Geoff Girvitz . Girvitz is the owner of Bang Fitness , a gym that’s helped everyone from soccer moms to professional fighters achieve their physique goals. I’ve known Geoff casually for a long time. He’s patient, sage, and witty. Like Mr. Miyagi if Mr. Miyagi were written by Wes Anderson. If anyone could get me to my goal it was going to be him.

When I first reached out to Geoff he let me know that under normal circumstances the project wasn’t something he’d take on. Like my friends he championed the long term approach, equipping clients with small fitness habits that over time lead to a larger, sustainable, lifestyle change. The quick fix I was after set up unreal expectations. He let me know it was more likely to result in a learning experience than a six-pack. Still, Girvitz agreed to put together a customized fitness routine and a broad stroke diet plan, with the caveat that I remain honest with him about the experience.

When I let Geoff know about my former body issues he shot back a series of questions. Why did I want to get abs in the first place? I muttered off some half rehearsed lines about dedication and the value in pushing outside of your comfort zone. What did I think people with abs had that I didn’t? I talked about wanting to feel more attractive and improving my sex life. Was I using abs as a proxy for actual confidence? Oh sure, probably, but aren’t we all using something as a proxy for actual confidence? Geoff shook his head and laughed. He asked me to get on the scale.

The scale at Bang Fitness is shiny and metallic, attached to a rudimentary computer that somehow looks like it is both from the past and the future all at once. When you step on the scale it makes a playful little ping. The computer then displays a series of graphs outlining your total weight, body fat percentage, and lean body mass. The graphs are printed out as a souvenir of the experience. My weigh-in on day one informed me that I was 210 pounds. My body fat was 22.3 percent. Geoff checked over the numbers, informing me abs weren’t likely unless I was able to cut my body fat by half. I started to think about what that might look like, but got distracted when the scale made another little ping.

The next day was the before shoot with photographer/director Nicole Bazuin. Bored with the typical look of fitness shots, Bazuin suggested we raise the bar by adding a theme. We decided on snack foods. Over the course of two hours I poured doritos over top my body. I pushed out my gut and bathed in orange soda. We adjusted for the most unflattering lighting and least forgiving angles. It was like a boudoir shoot where the whole goal was to make me look unfuckable. The photoshoot itself was a lot of fun. Until that point in every other picture I had ever taken I’d tried to look good. Finding terrible posture and specifically attempting to look like a sleazeball was liberating. Wrapping things up I was in a good mood. But when Nicole let me look over the test shots that all changed. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting but the pictures looked grotesque. I tried to remind myself that grotesque pictures had been the point, but inwardly I worried that I had made a horrible mistake.