ðïļââïļ Snake Boy Factory
Yasha shuffled into the gym, his eyes scanning the rows of machines and free weights. He spotted a few familiar faces, but they were all engrossed in their own workouts. Perfect.
He grabbed a barbell from the rack and began to warm up. He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, holding the bar on his shoulders. He took a deep breath and exhaled, slowly bending at the middle of his back.
As he arched, he felt a tingling sensation along his spine. It was always like that before a big practice session – his body priming itself for an intense workout.
Yasha closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, focusing on the sensation. He could feel every vertebra in his back, every muscle fiber straining to accommodate the extreme flexibility he had worked so hard to develop.
He began to lower his shoulders, bending deeper and deeper until his shoulder blades pressed tightly against his own lower back, folding up his back like a book. He held the position for a good minute, feeling the stretch in his abs and the pleasant burn in his back.
"This is the life," he murmured to himself, feeling so squished and compressed, and yet so incredibly free.
Finally, he used his back muscles to push himself up, straightening his back and lifting the barbell up with him. He took a few deep breaths, then lowered the barbell again.
Backbending was his passion, his obsession. He had spent years perfecting it, and he knew that he could do backbends 24/7 if he only had the time.
He repeated the exercise, over and over again, until his body felt like it's made of clay, ready to be molded and shaped into any position he desired.
He climbed onto his favorite training chair, an excellent piece of gym equipment that allowed him to practice his backbends in the most challenging positions. He lay down on it, his legs suspended on both sides of his body.
Bending his legs at the knees, he locked his feet into the footrests and took a deep breath before fully extending his legs. He heard a series of satisfying pops as his spine stretched and realigned to its maximum extent.
His body went deep through his legs, his thighs now pressing almost against his waist. The combo of tension and integrity in his body was addictive, making him feel unbreakable. He let the feeling wash over him, filling his entire being.
He relaxed his legs, then pushed them back as far as they would go. He did it a few times, each time pushing his legs further and further back, then slowly untangled himself from the chair and stood up. His muscles felt like they were on fire, but in the best way possible. He was ready for anything that came next – a new routine, a competition, or just another day of practice.
"So damn amazing," Yasha smiled, feeling a sense of contentment and satisfaction. This was what he lived for – the thrill of bending his body to its limits, and then doing it all again tomorrow.