"You're not using the growth hormone?" she asked, puzzled.
"Sure I am. For two weeks."
She held up a small vial with an unbroken seal. "This is the growth hormone. It hasn't been opened."
I pointed to a large vial filled with red liquid. "That's what I've been injecting." Then a quick burst of panic. "What is it?"
"Don't worry. It's vitamin B12. We use it to mix with the growth hormone. This is just the extra B12 we didn't use yet. Don't worry, B12 is good stuff. Gives you more energy."
"I'm an idiot."
"The growth hormone does help with cognitive functions," she said cheerfully. "They're starting to use it with early Alzheimer's."
After a few weeks of the HGH, I began to notice subtle changes. My skin started getting... better. Sun blotches that I'd had on my arms for a year faded away. One morning I woke up and a scar on my forehead—which I'd gotten from a mountain-bike endo two years earlier—was more or less gone. Even though I was training like a madman, I looked more rested. Younger. A little fresher.
