I’ll be honest: I don’t just train legs for symmetry or power—I train them because I’m obsessed with building the kind of lower body that deserves to be photographed, worshipped, and immortalized in a gallery. My quads, hamstrings, and glutes aren’t just muscle groups—they’re chapters in a very gay, very sweaty, very intentional love letter to the male form.
The Ultimate Leg Day with Bodybuilding Coach Maxwell Alexander: Sculpting Strength, One Thirst Trap at a Time – Bodybuilding 101 with Coach Maxwell Alexander – Presented by GUY STYLE MAG (18+)
So come with me—this is my ultimate leg day, captured through my lens and my body. Welcome to my temple of sweat and self-worship.
The warm-up is everything. I start with air squats, slow and controlled, feet flat, hands pressed together like I’m praying to the muscle gods—because in a way, I am. Each repetition draws my attention inward. I listen to my body. I feel my glutes engage, my thighs stretch, my balance ground me. This is choreography before the storm.
Then I cradle a heavy dumbbell for goblet squats, elbows tucked in, dropping low with intention. It’s primal. Intimate. It wakes up every fiber in my lower body. My knees track over my toes perfectly. I squeeze at the top and feel the blood rush—that’s the pump I’m chasing. My salmon-pink shirt is already clinging, sweat beginning to write its own story down my back. The joggers stretch just right. The mirror says, you’re on fire, and I believe it.
Next, I step into the leg extension machine. I sit tall, plant my feet under the pad, and extend with slow, surgical control. Quads light up, sculpting themselves in real time. That pause at the top? That’s where the growth lives. My sneakers flex against the pad, and the veins start to pop. It’s a visual moment—made for the lens. Every rep builds a better silhouette.
From there, I move to the adductor machine—yes, that one. The gayest machine in the gym and one of my absolute favorites. I don’t care if it makes the straight boys uncomfortable. They’re just not ready for this level of thigh elegance. I lock in, push my knees together, and feel the inner thighs burn. Inner thigh definition is underrated—and ridiculously sexy when lit right in a photo. Trust me.
Then comes the cathedral of mass: the barbell squat rack. I load the weight, slide under the bar, and let it settle on my traps. The pressure is grounding. My stance is wide, my spine neutral, and when I drop into that deep squat, it’s like falling into my own power. This is what built my glutes. This is the movement that gave me “America’s best ass,” and I say that with zero irony. The ass is art—and this is how it’s made.
The hack squat machine follows. I’m in my zone. Shirt soaked, hat flipped backward, the look is equal parts streetwear and superhero. I lower until my knees scream and drive back up through the heels. It’s brutal and beautiful. My reflection shows effort and elegance working together—exactly how I design my physique.
I keep the momentum going with the leg press. More plates. More depth. This is pure volume now. I press, hold, slow the eccentric. The pump is swelling. My legs are maxed out and I’m loving it. The lines, the size, the strength—it all starts to merge into the vision I’ve held for years. The kind of body that could be carved out of stone. Or better yet, photographed by me in golden light and immortalized on canvas.
By the end, I’m drenched. Muscles twitching, glutes lit up, thighs pumped like they’re about to burst through the seams of my joggers. And that’s exactly where I want to be.
My fuel? Pure. Clean. Queer. Powerful.
I drink a natural pre-workout—no dyes, no artificial sweeteners, just plant-based firepower. Think maca root, green tea extract, and beet juice. I take 5g of creatine monohydrate daily—because duh. I aim for 1g of protein per pound of bodyweight, and I eat like an Olympian after leg day.
Grilled chicken thighs, roasted Brussels sprouts, lentils, arugula, a drizzle of olive oil, and a kiss of lemon. High protein. High fiber. High satisfaction. No bloating, no crap—just fuel that feeds the work.
So yeah, this was my ultimate leg day.
A little sweat. A little style. A whole lot of power.
And when I say I train for the art of it, I mean it.
Because in the end, I am the art.
And I never skip leg day.
Read more from my Bodybuilding 101 series here: hudsonvalleystylemagazine.com/category/bodybuilding
