by: Sam Gruetter
Editor in Chief

Recently, I have embarked on an endeavor to get extremely ripped and achieve peak physical condition. When weighing my options for catalyzing this process, I considered all of the gym bro fan favorites: anabolic steroids, a (very) necessary prescription of a GLP-1 from a (very) legitimate doctor, and, of course, creatine. While medical bribery and infiltrating online drug rings are far from beneath me, I, to my disdain, do not possess the free time to accomplish such feats. So I settled for the most convenient (and most legal) option: creatine.

Many proponents of creatine address the topic as though the chalky white powder is on par with the invention of sliced bread or the air fryer, claiming the magic supplement repaired their failing marriage, saving them from barreling towards divorce, or was the sole reason they got into their dream college. Safe to say, it has some high praise. Upon opening my looming 180-serving jar of Costco-brand creatine, I immediately clocked that the supplement’s appearance is eerily reminiscent of dimethylbenzeneethanamine hydrochloride. Like the dutiful creatine disciple I aspire to be, I dry-scooped it right into my mouth. This was my first mistake. I immediately started choking and coughing on the white powder, praying to my ancestors to please excuse my grave miscalculation and allow me to see the light of another day. Just as I was peacefully slipping into said light, something magical happened, a divine intervention, if you will. A large man in a Nike compression top took my hand and sat me down. He started talking about Noah’s Ark, the Big Bang, and some other nonsense that has nothing to do with the six-pack waiting for me in the big downstairs where I belong. Anyways, once the big guy had ceased his nonsensical chatter, he took my hands with his bear paws and told me something I will never forget: If I spread the message of creatine, he would send me back to Earth.

Anyways, here I am, humbly asking you to consider my supplement of choice. Since beginning my creatine journey, I have seen unparalleled progress in all aspects of my life. My recovery gym day consists of repping 1,000 pounds on the bench press and that one tire workout you always see The Rock doing. All of it, light work. But my favorite part of it all? Taking the creatine. Ever since my near brush with death and life-altering experience, I have derived much joy from the rush of adrenaline I receive as I dry-scoop the powder. Just like some people get their daily fix of adrenaline from skydiving or other extreme sports, I get mine from my Costco creatine. All in all, creatine has implemented a drastic transformation in my life.