Reno Is Farther West Than Los Angeles (No, Seriously)

From the Brickyard | Subject: Reno surprisingly owns the westward crown in a matchup with the City of Angels

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Bet you didn’t see that one coming.

But it really is true—Reno, Nevada is actually farther west than Los Angeles, California.

Wild, right?

Most people would swear the opposite. LA’s on the coast, after all. Reno’s buried in the high desert. But that’s where your mental map plays tricks on you.

Blame the weird curves of the California coastline and the way Nevada leans in like it’s photobombing.

Don’t believe me? Punch it into latlong.net. Reno sits at 119.8°W, while LA chills at 118.2°W. That means Reno’s got the westward edge.

A great little fact to keep in your back pocket—perfect for trivia night, road trip debates, or boggling someone’s mind over a protein shake.

Brick by brick.

-Brickwall

Entertaining Things People Have Called Me Since I’ve Become a Musclebuilder

When you start building serious muscle, people start calling you things. Sometimes it’s out of admiration. Sometimes it’s curiosity. Sometimes it’s just because they don’t know how else to describe what they’re looking at.

You become something else in their eyes. A little larger than life. A little different from the average guy. And with that difference comes the nicknames, the labels, the hilarious observations.

As you know, the name “Brickwall” was gifted to me by a friend who said, “You’re built like a brick wall.” It stuck. It became the brand. The identity. The force.

But that’s not the only thing I’ve been called over the years.

Here’s a list of some of the most interesting, entertaining, and totally unexpected things people have called me since I started the Musclebuilder path:

Muscles/Muscle Man/Muscular

The obvious ones. These are the “your name is now your most prominent feature” type of nicknames.

Low-hanging fruit? Sure. But it still feels good to be recognized for the work.

Gym Rat

Heard this one a lot. No shame here. The gym is my dojo. My temple. My office.
Call me a rat if you want—just know I’m the kind that lifts intense and eats clean.

Beefy

You know you’ve added some size when someone refers to you using food groups.
I’ve packed on the beef, alright. USDA Prime. Grass-fed. Mission-built.

Jacked

Now this is a compliment. When someone drops a casual “damn, you’re jacked,” it’s like getting knighted by the people.

This one’s a rite of passage. You don’t call everyone jacked. It’s earned.

Big Man/Big Guy/Big Dawg

This one happens when you’ve got some height to you.

Throw on some mass, and suddenly everyone’s calling you something with big in front of it.

You don’t even need to speak. You walk in, and they know.

Wide

One of my personal favorites.

Not tall. Not tall and muscular. Just…wide.

There’s something about adding slabs of muscle to the shoulders and lats that makes you look like you could walk through a wall.

MMA Fighter

This one caught me off guard at first. But I’ve heard it a lot.

Maybe it’s the bald head. Maybe it’s the muscular and lean frame. Maybe it’s the focused intensity.

Either way, I’ll take it. Makes me feel like I’m one walkout song away from stepping into the cage. 👊

Football Player

Usually gets thrown at me when I’m wearing training gear out in public.

“Hey, you play football?” Nah, brother—but I train just as hard.

And for the record, I’m more strong safety than lineman.

Solid

This one hits.

No fluff. No extra. Just…solid.

Like if someone tried to shoulder check you, they’d bounce off.

Tough

Like, you look tough, man.

Believe me, I don’t just look it.

Final Thoughts

These nicknames might make you laugh, but they’re also data points.

They’re how the world sees you when you’ve put in the work.

You don’t need to walk around announcing that you lift. You carry it. It radiates. People feel it.

So if you’re on the Musclebuilder path and people start calling you names—lean in.

You’re earning your reputation without saying a word.

Keep building. Keep showing up.

And remember: you’re not just building muscle.

You’re building presence.

Let ‘em call you what they want. Just remember—none of those names matter as much as the one you’re building every damn day: Musclebuilder.

Don’t Be That Guy at the Gym: The Camper and the Flitterer

Don’t Be That Guy at the Gym: The Camper and the Flitterer

The gym is a jungle—and every jungle’s got its wildlife.

Two of the most interesting species I’ve seen?

The Camper and the Flitterer.

You’ve probably spotted them before…you just didn’t have names.

Well, now you do.

The Camper

The Camper is a guy who sets up basecamp like he’s staying overnight.

Squat rack? Leg press? Preacher curl bench? Doesn’t matter.

He’ll sit there for 20…30…45 minutes, sometimes over an hour.

If he’s doing serious work—say, a 10×10 German Volume session with intensity and purpose—respect. That’s legit.

But most of the time? He’s just…sitting. Scrolling. Chatting. Daydreaming.

Meanwhile, others are circling, waiting for their turn.

Dude, this ain’t your personal campsite—it’s a shared training ground.

As Musclebuilders, we hit our sets hard, rest with intention, and move on. We show respect and consideration. Personally, I try not to tie up a piece of equipment for more than 5–8 minutes, all business.

The Flitterer

The Flitterer is the opposite of the Camper.

He bounces from thing to thing like a pinball on pre-workout.

One set here, one over there, then a new exercise just because it’s open.

Leg press…curl machine…dumbbell press…overhead triceps extension…calf raise…and out.

One “meh” set per movement. No structure. No intensity. No overload.

And here’s the kicker: it doesn’t work.

Research consistently shows that multiple hard sets per muscle group far outpace one-off “sampler” sets for both size and strength gains (Schoenfeld et al., 2017).

If you want real results, commit to a lift. Milk it for all it’s worth. Then move on.

Now I’m not saying you can’t move around—but flittering without focus is just motion without meaning.

Bottom Line: Don’t Be a Camper or a Flitterer

We train in the gym like it’s our sacred space—because it is.

But sacred doesn’t mean selfish, and beast mode doesn’t mean brainless.

We Musclebuilders:

  • Train with intention
  • Train with intensity
  • Rest with purpose
  • Respect the space

So leave the campsite cleaner than you found it. And for the love of gains—don’t flitter.

Sources

Schoenfeld, B.J., Ogborn, D., & Krieger, J.W. (2017). Dose-response relationship between weekly resistance training volume and increases in muscle mass: A systematic review and meta-analysis. J Sports Sci. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/27433992/

American College of Sports Medicine (2021). Resistance Training Progression Models for Healthy Adults. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/19204579/

Going Bald? Just Shave It Off, Stud

You start noticing a little extra hair in the sink. The corners of your hairline begin their slow retreat. One day, you see it in the mirror—your dome’s going bare.

Relax, brother. You’re not broken. You’re becoming part of a proud lineage of legends who ditched the mop and rocked the clean dome with confidence.

You’re in Good Company

Let’s roll call a few titans who didn’t need hair to dominate:

  • Bruce Willis – Action icon. Bald and badass.
  • Jason Statham – Doesn’t need hair to be an ass-kicking legend.
  • The Rock – Lost his locks, gained the world.
  • Michael Jordan – Greatest of all time, no hair.
  • Patrick Stewart – Sophisticated. Commanding. Bald since the Enterprise.

Balding isn’t a curse—it’s a transformation. You either slump…or stride into your next phase like a man with nothing to prove.

Just to Leave No Stone Unturned, What Are Your Options?

1. Shave It Clean (Brickwall’s Choice)

  • Low-maintenance. Dominant. You’re not clinging—you’re claiming.
  • Pair it with muscle and some facial hair? Game over.
  • Maintenance becomes ritual. Masculine. Meditative.
  • Easy to DIY.
    → Pro Tip: Grow your facial hair. Nature’s trade-off—and it slaps.

2. Buzz Cut

  • A softer entry if you’re not ready to go full chrome dome.
  • Still looks sharp, masculine, and intentional.
  • Gears you up to eventually go full razor.
  • Easy to do at home.

3. Keep Fighting

Want to fight the hair loss? You’ve got tools. But they come with tradeoffs.

  • Minoxidil (Rogaine): Over-the-counter topical. Might slow the loss, maybe regrow some—but results vary.
  • Finasteride (Propecia): Prescription DHT blocker. Lowers androgens—and brother, I don’t like anything that steals your edge. Use with extreme caution.
  • Microneedling, laser therapy, PRP: Experimental. Expensive. Results all over the place.
  • Transplants: The nuclear option. Costs high. Commitment high. Results vary.

Fighting hair loss is fine. But chasing it at the cost of your fire? That ain’t the Brickwall way. That ain’t the Musclebuilder way.

Bottom Line: Some guys get results fighting it. Some don’t. But know this: every option costs something—money, time, or hormones. Do your homework before you go into battle.

Just Shave It Off, Stud

Rock that dome with pride. Build muscle. Grow some killer facial hair. Walk tall.

Adapt. Dominate. Build—even when the hairline retreats.

Being a badass isn’t rooted in follicles—it’s in strength, presence, and the way you carry yourself.

It’s not the hair. It’s the fire in your eyes.

Jupiter Gains: The Gravity of Growth

Jupiter Gains: The Gravity of Growth

Ever wonder what you’d weigh on Jupiter?

Probably not. But I did.

At 200 lbs on Earth, I’d clock in at a crushing 528 pounds on Jupiter. That’s like wearing a 328-lb weighted vest 24/7.

Walking? Brutal leg day.

Getting off the couch? Core crusher.

Climbing stairs? World-class GPP.

Sure—Jupiter’s a gas giant. No solid ground. No oxygen. No gym.

Doesn’t matter.

Because Jupiter’s not the destination.

The resistance is.

And here’s the thing—you don’t need a spaceship to chase this pressure.

You’ve got the weights, so you’ve got the choice to get heavier—every day.

So no, we’re not heading to Jupiter.

We’re bringing Jupiter to the gym.

Strap in. Stack plates. Embrace the resistance.

Let’s get heavy.

Ranking All Three BTTF Movies (and Why Part I Is Close to Perfection)

BTTF Fan Art

I’m a gigantic BTTF fan. Always have been. Always will be.

All three movies bring something to the table, but like anything worth ranking—some rise above the rest. So here’s my totally correct (and maybe controversial) fan ranking of the legendary time-travel trilogy.

#1: Part I – The Undisputed King

The origin story hits hard.

Bob Gale came up with the idea after finding his dad’s old high school yearbook and wondering: Would we have even been friends? That’s the seed that bloomed into a movie about legacy, identity, and whether we can ever truly understand where we come from.

It’s easy to see why this landed. We’ve all wondered what our parents were like when they were our age. What were the pressures? The culture? Could we have survived in their world? Did they even lift? 😆

Part I answers those questions in the most fun way possible—by throwing Marty into 1955 and making him dodge his own mom’s romantic advances, bond with his not-so-alpha dad, and try not to erase his existence.

It’s tight, funny, layered, and unforgettable. Magic from start to finish.

#2: Part II – The Chaotic Middle Child (But Still a Banger)

Let’s be honest—Part II is a mess. But it’s the good kind of mess. The creative chaos kind.

Doc warns against messing with the future…then immediately convinces Marty to go mess with the future. Classic.

In this one, we time-hop through:

  • 2015 (hoverboards and self-lacing Nikes)
  • 1985A (Biff’s hellish casino-run dystopia)
  • 1955 again (yes, more Biff shenanigans)

You even get multiple Martys, multiple Docs, and a sports almanac that basically becomes the McGuffin of every gambler’s fantasy.

What makes this one resonate—especially with guys like us—is the “what if” factor. What if you could get a glimpse of your future? Would you use it? Would it corrupt you? Would you do the work—or try to game the system?

Also, I swear this movie is two full movies jammed into one (I actually read somewhere that it was supposed to be two movies). And I’m here for it.

#3: Part III – Fun, But Not Top Tier

Part III isn’t bad—it’s just not Part I or II.

We’re in 1885 now, and while it’s cool to see Hill Valley as a dusty Western town, it lacks the punch of the others. Fewer familiar characters. Slower pacing. And let’s be real—the Doc/Clara romance just doesn’t hit emotionally (I could do without the love stories in most movies, actually…just give me the facts and explosions!).

And the time-traveling steam train at the end? Ehhh. I get that it’s whimsical, but it strays into too whimsical.

Still, it wraps the trilogy well, and there’s something admirable about ending with a bit of optimism. The past is behind us. The future is unwritten. You can make it a good one (or a bad one if you don’t get your shit together). You’re in control, and that’s Musclebuilder through and through.

Final Verdict:

  1. Part I – Classic. Timeless. Near-perfect.
  2. Part II – Wild, messy, fascinating.
  3. Part III – Still worth watching, just not as memorable.

How Would You Rank Them?

And if you could time-travel, would you go back to fix the past…or forward to cash in on what’s coming? Food for thought.

I Ditched My Smart Watch for a Simpler, Less Techy Casio

Sometimes, you just gotta say “screw this” to all the tech crap and go simple. No tracking, no apps, no invisible judge on your wrist telling you you’re lazy. So I ditched my fancy smartwatch and grabbed a Casio W219H for under 20 bucks. And damn, it’s been a breath of fresh air.

Don’t get me wrong—smartwatches are cool toys. Tech’s done some awesome things for us. But tracking every damn step and calorie? That shit’s exhausting and makes you feel like garbage. My watch was always lurking, waiting to call me out: “Only 2,293 steps today, loser? I thought you had more fire.”

Enter the Casio. This bad boy doesn’t give a damn about steps, heart rate, or notifications. It just tells time and date, lights up when it’s dark, and that’s it. Like a kettlebell or a ‘57 Chevy Bel Air, it’s old-school badassery, no gimmicks.

The world’s obsessed with tech, but sometimes you gotta rebel and strip it down. When smartwatches become sentient and start thinking they’re the boss, I’ll be there, clocking gains and busting their silicon ass with my Casio on—screaming “I told you so!”

You ever feel tech’s got you by the balls? Maybe it’s time to slap on something real and remind yourself who’s boss.