All Brawn No Brain

by Cowboy Appledash

Rating: everyone
Tags: Random, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other
Length: 1228

Snowflake, is he really what most ponies think he is?

Snowflake, or as some refer to him 'Roid Rage', is more than a beefy mass of a pegasus. There is more to him than most think. This is his story. A small one shot fic.

Image credit to http://asksteroidpony.tumblr.com/

Published 2012-09-04 14:54:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-09-04 14:54:01 UTC

Chapter 1

All brawn and no brain. That is how other ponies view me as I walk through the cobbled streets of Ponyville. All they ever notice is my white muscular frame and tiny wings. Coffee stained teeth from late nights of study and bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep. I am Snowflake, and this is my story.

Growing up in Ponyville, I was very much like other ponies, yet I was somehow different. Every day throughout school our teacher ms. Cheery (not to be confused with Cheerilee her daughter) would mold our eager young minds and bring us new information and ideas every day, whenever she would ask a question I would be the first to raise my hoof. Knowledge, I had a knack for it, I rarely failed any tests and did my best to earn extra credit in order to make my parents proud.

However this was not the case in our Physical Education courses. I was frail back then, if one tried they could probably snap me like a twig, but I didn't let this stop me. No, I needed to excel in every course there was to offer in order to better myself. So every day after the bell rang and all the other fillies and colts galloped home to play with their friends and toys, I secluded myself to the athletic field. I'd run twelve laps around the track and then another twelve if I hadn't tired enough, then 30 wing push-ups despite their pleas to cease the arduous strain. I'd work and work till I was literally, struggling to stand on my own four hooves.

I repeated this ritual every day until I reached secondary school, my frame had yet to noticeably change, sure I was stronger, but I also wanted to look stronger. Eager to see what this new house of logic had to offer I strode through the doors weeks before we were allowed to continue our education. There I had found it, the weight room. A multitude of massive contraptions straining under the heavy loads of the weights baring down upon their bulky aluminum constructs. My previous years had taught me to pace myself and not start off too big. So I approached one of the machines and examined it. Roughly two times my size and double the width of my barrel, it held a set of two arms connected by a padded beam, it seemed to be a lever based mechanism in which the only motions were up and down. A rod protruded horizontally from the end of both arms, this I assumed, was to hold the weights.

And so I picked a set of sixty pound weights and placed them on their respective pegs. I noticed the padded beam was positioned rather low, figuring this was how it was supposed to work I positioned myself behind it, and like a draft pony would a yoke, I slipped my head beneath the bar letting it rest on my withers. The position I was in resembled that of a manticore stalking it's prey, legs bent, neck down waiting to explode upward and catch it with surprise. This had to be the basis for use, and as I had envisioned I pushed upward, this was much like a wing pushup only I was using my legs instead, there was a problem however. It was too light, no strain, no struggle, no nothing just a simple pushup. That was not enough, I got out, selected another set of sixties and placed them on the system. I was now ready to see if all those years of hard work were worth it.

Now with a grand total of two hundred forty pounds, I pushed upward. I had found it, the sweet spot, I had met resistance, I struggled and inched upward slowly. Once reaching my peak I estimated my body could only withstand approximately twenty reps, so I raised my personal goal to thirty.

That hour was hell for me, twenty was too high of a guess and thirty seemed impossible, I could not falter though, giving up was not an option. I set a goal and I was going to make it even if it killed me. The moment I reached that number and brought my shaking body to it's highest point, I collapsed. Sweat drenched my body, I was breathing harder than I ever had before, my flanks were burning and my body felt immovable. Fifteen minutes had passed until I had gathered the strength to stand up, something had caught my eye however and I hobbled over to a mirror that had been placed in the room. There, permanently branded on me was the image of a black barbell, my talent was now and forever working out and pushing myself to the threshold. It didn't seem to fit who I was on the inside, but by Celestia's will, it's what I was good at.

I pursued this talent for the rest of my educational days, every day one would find me in that room, growing bigger and stronger. Mares began noticing me and would frequently ask me out on dates to which I would decline. My talent had become my passion, it was this passion that would fuel the fire burning inside of me to reach higher points. By the time I had graduated, Big Macintosh Apple had frequently challenged me to see who was stronger, unfortunately every competition ended the same, I was the victor and Macintosh to apathetic second. We held a tight bond however, he still to this day works to reach my level but I doubt that will come to pass.

I now teach physical education at Ponyville Primary where little fillies and colts ripe with ambition would learn their place in the world and discover what they were truly good at. I must say I was happy to see them so willing to push themselves and set personal goals, it reminded me of my younger years, when I was a frail colt, a colt much like Featherweight, my hardest working student.

Every night after school had been let out I'd find him running around the track as I had in my days of youth. He was so full of fire, so eager to better himself as I had. I'd mentor him, guide him along his athletic path. When all was said and done, I'd take him home, help him finish his schoolwork then tuck him into bed. I would then retire to my study and engross myself in whatever new additions Twilight Sparkle had received at her library. Into the night I'd sit there, perusing my tomes, feeding my mind. Dusk had not been my bed time, I had never truly set one, instead I would read until my wife Cloudchaser would come in and send me away to get some sleep.

All brawn and no brain. I guess it was true after all, I had a strong body and a strong mind, but common sense and the ability to give way and quit were gone. I didn't know how to quit, I couldn't, all I knew is that I could do a little more and then I could rest. I would never set a limit, only a goal and I continue, to this day, to grow stronger both physically and mentally.