I would definitely hit the button and become a huge Scandinavian strongman over 6’5 350 pound of Viking strength 
You sit alone in your shitty apartment, drinking shitty beer that you bought with money from your shitty job. You sigh. You have no drive. There’s nothing to push you forward. Your life is a mess and you know it.
The button sits before you. What would be the harm in pushing it? Maybe the new you would have something to live for. You look around your empty room, at the mediocre possessions you have. You squeeze the extra ring of fat around your stomach, lamenting that if only you lived closer to a gym then you could go more frequently.
Should you push the button? Your thoughts drift to your parents, but you tell yourself they’ll get over it.
In a swift movement, you push the button. There’s no time to feel regret or even to second guess your choice because a thought has wormed into your head. One word: grind.
In an instant every difficult task becomes doable. You have drive now. The urge to improve, to get better, to grind and work harder.
You stand, your body a ball of jitters and energy. You instinctively prepare yourself to head to the gym before going to work. But you don’t have a shitty job. You started a tech company a decade ago, now you’re head of Denmark’s biggest tech company. Because of course you are. You live for the grind.
Your apartment suddenly looks different around you. Larger. Cleaner. Scandinavian furniture replaces the cheap clutter piece by piece. Minimalist lighting glows softly against concrete walls. Through massive windows you see the skyline of Copenhagen stretching out beneath a cold grey morning sky.
Your body begins to change. Your pulse quickens and heat floods your body.
Your posture straightens violently with a series of pops running up your spine. Your chest expands outward as dense muscle thickens beneath your skin. The softness around your stomach tightens immediately, fat burning away as hard mass forms underneath.
Your shoulders broaden and widen. The fabric of your shirt tightens across swelling pecs and growing deltoids. Muscle surges down your arms in thick waves, veins beginning to rise beneath the skin. Your forearms grow heavy and powerful, hands widening against the expensive fabric of your sweatpants.
Grind. The word echoes again. It’s becoming a mantra.
Your thighs tense painfully. Muscle packs onto your legs with frightening density, stretching the fabric around your quads. Your calves thicken. Your stance widens naturally to support the increasing weight of your body.
You are getting bigger. And not lean either. Massive.
Your jaw tightens as rough blond stubble spreads across your face. Your neck thickens enormously, forcing your collar outward. Pale hair creeps across your powerful forearms and heavier chest. Your entire frame continues expanding upward and outward until you feel huge.
You stand well over six feet tall, broad enough to fill the room through presence alone. The floor creaks softly beneath your increasing weight. Your body feels dense now. Heavy. Built through years of deadlifts, carries, presses, and brutal discipline. Every movement radiates controlled power.
You raise a massive hand to your face, fingers brushing against the thick blond beard spreading across your jaw. The coarse hairs scratch against your calloused palm. Heavy muscles strain beneath fitted athletic clothing while pale hair creeps across your thick forearms and powerful chest. Cold blue eyes stare back at you, sharpened by years of ambition, discipline, and relentless grind.
Something hot spreads through your chest as your posture straightens unconsciously, your larger body settling naturally into itself. The transformation no longer feels foreign. It feels correct.
Thoughts continue to reorganize themselves. Weaknesses are identified and discarded. Excuses dissolve instantly beneath the crushing certainty that effort solves everything.
Memories flood into your mind of strongman competitions, freezing early morning training sessions, brutal deadlift sessions, years spent grinding your body into something powerful. The grind was part of your life from a young age. You’ve never stopped working for what you have. You remember hustling sleepless nights coding in cramped apartments. Years spent grinding through failures and investor meetings. Early mornings. Cold calls. Product launches. Expansion. Acquisitions. Discipline layered upon discipline until success became inevitable.
Purpose hums through your bloodstream stronger than caffeine ever could. Your massive hands flex at your sides as energy floods your body, demanding movement, demanding progress. The heavy weight of your body settles comfortably onto your joints, familiar and earned.
Grind is your daily mantra.
The old you wanted motivation. But Kasper Lund understands motivation was never real.
Discipline is real. The grind is real.
