ve always been a strong man—a carpenter by trade. My arms and legs are my tools. Without them, I’m nowhere. But a few years ago, I started feeling something strange. My trusty “tools” began to betray me.
My legs felt heavy as lead. My knees were weak, drained of strength. Lifting the bag of cement I used to throw with one hand? It was already difficult! My muscles began to atrophy, and I felt myself turning into a frail old man.
It was terrifying. The doctors just shrugged: “It’s a matter of age, Viktor Ivanovich. It’s sarcopenia. Take vitamins, move more.” But what good are vitamins when my legs can barely hold me up?! I felt it wasn’t just age. Something deeper was going on.
I started digging – I talked to old athletes, read scientific articles and wondered: what did our grandparents eat who were still chopping wood at the age of 80?
And then I found the answer.
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