Latest news with #anabolicSteroids
Yahoo
01-07-2025
- Yahoo
'Reckless' ex-PC would have been sacked for drugs
A police officer has been dismissed from a force after it was found he was using unprescribed anabolic steroids. Ex Essex PC Joshua Brady tested positive for anabolic androgenic steroids which are a Class C drug and only available through prescription. A misconduct hearing took place on 17 June found Mr Brady had breached professional standards and concluded he would have been sacked if he had not already resigned. Chief Constable Ben-Julian Harrington, said: "Police officers who take drugs that are not prescribed by a doctor, or are not lawful, have no place in policing." Mr Brady was also placed on the College of Policing barred list. Mr Harrington added: "PC Brady was a young in-service officer with a bright future in policing who had represented police at the highest levels in sport. "But through foolish and reckless behaviour he has not only ruined his career but has put himself and the public at risk. "Police officers who take drugs that are not prescribed by a doctor, or are not lawful, have no place in policing." According to the NHS, most professional sports and organisations ban anabolic steroid use and test competitors for prohibited steroids. Anabolic steroids can be used as performance-enhancing drugs that increase muscle mass and decrease fat, as well as causing many undesirable effects. Follow Essex news on BBC Sounds, Facebook, Instagram and X.
News.com.au
25-06-2025
- Sport
- News.com.au
Queensland trainer Nick Walsh withdraw appeal against 12-month disqualification over anabolic steroid charge
A Queensland trainer has withdrawn his appeal into a 12-month disqualification, in a case where an anabolic steroid had been detected in one of his horses. Earlier this month, Rockhampton trainer Nick Walsh was slapped with a 12-month bans by racing stewards. It related to the anabolic steroid Stanozolol being detected twice in out of competition testing and once in post race testing in the racehorse Sailor's Rum. It is a landmark case, given that Racenet understands it is the first time Stanozolol has been detected in a Queensland thoroughbred racehorse since a total ban on anabolic steroids in racehorses was introduced in 2014. Walsh was renowned for his outstanding career strike rate of 32 per cent – and in the 2022/23 season Walsh-trained horses won at an amazing strike rate of 42.7 per cent. Walsh had lodged an appeal where he had been set to argue the 12-month penalty was excessive. However, his legal counsel Gabe Hutchinson confirmed to Racenet on Wednesday that the trainer had signed papers to withdraw the appeal. Walsh will step away from racing in the next 12 months and it is understood he has gained employment in another industry.
News.com.au
18-06-2025
- Sport
- News.com.au
Rockhampton trainer Nick Walsh banned by stewards for anabolic steroid positive swabs
A young Queensland trainer renowned for boasting a sensational winning strike has been disqualified for 12 months by racing stewards after an anabolic steroid was detected in one of his horses. Rockhampton trainer Nick Walsh was slapped with a trio of 12 month bans relating to the anabolic steroid Stanozolol being detected twice in out of competition testing and once in post race testing. However stewards ordered that the disqualifications be served concurrently. It is a landmark case, given that Racenet understands it is the first time Stanozolol has been detected in a Queensland thoroughbred racehorse since a total ban on anabolic steroids in racehorses was introduced in 2014. 'QRIC is dedicated to enforcing a zero-tolerance policy towards the use of prohibited substances,' Queensland Racing Integrity Commission deputy commissioner Kim Kelly told Racenet. 'Detecting, responding and deterring non-compliance with the Rules of Racing is a key function of QRIC. 'QRIC will continue to utilise all available measures to ensure participants comply with the Rules. 'This includes 'anywhere, anytime' sampling regime which necessarily includes unannounced and unpredictable out of competition sampling which compliments robust race meeting sampling.' The stewards' inquiry heard that Stanozolol was detected in samples collected from Sailor's Rum in two out of competition samples and also a post-race blood sample when Sailor's Rum competed in a 1200m race at Rockhampton on December 19 last year. Sailor's Rum finished fourth that day after being strongly backed from $3 to $2.10. Walsh, who once represented Australia in rodeo, has trained 155 career winners at the outstanding strike rate of 32 per cent. He has always enjoyed a strong strike-rate but it was off the charts in the 2022/23 season when Walsh-trained horses won at a strike rate of 42.7 per cent. Walsh's best horse has been sprinter Hell, which won seven races for Walsh including three in Brisbane since transferring from the Tony and Calvin McEvoy stable in Victoria. Following Walsh's disqualification, Hell was transferred to fellow Rockhampton trainer Tom Smith. The stewards' report relating to Walsh's disqualification notes: 'Stewards considered a significant amount of documentation, inclusive of, but not limited to, expert scientific evidence, expert veterinary evidence, six months of veterinary records of horses trained by Walsh, six months of personal and business banking account records of Walsh and analysis of mobile phone data from Walsh's personal mobile device.' Walsh pleaded guilty to all three of the racing charges he was issued with by stewards. In relation to Stanozolol, the stewards' report noted: * The evidence failed to identify how the substance, Stanozolol, came to be in Sailor's Rum's system at the relevant times * The nature of the substance, Stanozolol, which is well known to be performance enhancing * That there is no legitimate use in thoroughbred racing for Stanozolol Stewards gave the managing owner of Sailor's Rum, Brandon Diplock, an opportunity 'to attend the original stewards inquiry or alternately make written submissions in relation to this matter, on behalf of the ownership group, prior to any determinations being made. 'Mr Diplock did not request to attend in person and did not make any submissions for consideration,' stewards noted, before disqualifying Sailor's Rum from the race on December 19. It is understood Walsh intends to lodge an appeal on the grounds that the penalty was too severe. Meanwhile, stewards considered the provisions of Australian Racing Rule 248 which relates to 'administration of anabolic androgenic steroids and/or selective androgen receptor modulators.' 'In assessing the rule and given that the sample collected from Sailor's Rum on 20 December 2024, had an anabolic androgenic steroid detected in it, the provisions of AR248 (4)(a) and (b) were invoked and Sailor's Rum is not permitted to start in any race, official trial or jump-out for a 12-month period commencing 20 December 2024, until receipt of an Androgenic Clearing Certificate,' the stewards' report reads.
Irish Times
26-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Fake fitness influencers: They tell us about their morning ice baths and deep breathing, but not injections
Looking back to 2022, it seems impossible that anyone ever believed that Brian 'Liver King' Johnson achieved his physique without pharmaceutical assistance. He looks like a hot water bottle stuffed with bowling balls, an 1980s action figure with more veins – an improbably muscular man who put his bodybuilder-shaming physique down to a diet of 'raw liver, raw bone marrow and raw testicles'. And that last part, really, was the trick: by crediting his results to a regime that nobody else would dare try, he gave them a faint veneer of plausibility. Maybe, if you followed a less extreme version of his protocol, you could get comparable (though less extreme) results. And if you couldn't stomach an all-organ diet, well, you could always get the same nutrients from his line of supplements. The Liver King, of course, was dethroned – leaked emails revealed that he was spending more than $11,000 (€9,810) a month on muscle-building anabolic steroids, as detailed in a new Netflix documentary. But the story of a charismatic person promising ridiculous results is just the most outrageous example of a phenomenon that's been around since performance enhancers were invented. In the 1980s, Hulk Hogan urged a generation to say their prayers and eat their vitamins in his VHS workout set; then in 1994 he was forced to admit to more than a decade of steroid use during a court case against his former boss, Vince McMahon . In 2025, influencers post their morning ice baths and deep breathing exercises, but don't mention what they're injecting at the same time, whether that's steroids intended to encourage muscle growth in the same way that testosterone does, or testosterone itself, or human growth hormone (HGH). As a result, a generation of young men and women – and, to be fair, plenty of middle-aged ones – are developing a completely skewed version of what's possible with hard work and a chicken-heavy diet. And things might be getting worse, not better. It's never been easier to start a business based on your body. With a couple of hundred thousand followers and a decent angle, it only takes a couple of days to whip up an ebook, online course or meal plan. Apps make it easy to start group coaching or habit-tracking services, and even supplement companies are easy to start, if you're happy to just stick your own label on tubs of protein powder. 'In the current economic climate, the fitness industry is a very appealing place,' says James Smith, a personal trainer, fitness influencer and bestselling author who has been open about using steroids in his early 20s (he is now 35). 'If you've got decent genetics, you're a decent coach and have a grasp of marketing, you can unlock a very good income selling workouts and training plans. So maybe you take a little bit of testosterone to get a little leg up, and suddenly you're getting compliments at the gym and posting record lifts on Instagram. Surely a bit of human growth hormone couldn't hurt? Okay, business is now at an all-time high; followers are coming up to you and asking about reps and sets. You've dug yourself a hole that is hard to get out of. What do you do now? Tell your audience you're on steroids?' READ MORE Un-natty … Rich Piana in 2015. Photograph:If you did, you'd be in a very small minority. There are – at a conservative estimate – tens of thousands of fitness influencers globally, and only a small handful have openly admitted to using steroids, even among those posting the most outlandish results. Larry Wheels, an influencer and powerlifter, talked about the muscle cramps, depression, lethargy, loss of appetite and low libido he suffered from steroid abuse in a 2018 video. He then announced he was no longer taking them in 2022, followed by a relapse in 2024. Sam Sulek, one of the current kings of fitness on YouTube thanks to his combination of chatty, informal videos and unbelievable physical dimensions, hasn't elaborated, but in a video last year he did tell fans he'd be unable to reach his goal weight of 300lb 'natural'. Rich Piana, famed for inventing an arms workout taking eight hours, was open about his steroid use for much of his career, discussing his own 'cycle' and giving out advice for other users on social media. He died in 2017, aged 46, and with a heart weighing twice the normal amount for an adult male. But while a high-profile handful of people decide to open up, most other influencers continue to maintain that they're 'natural' or just avoid the subject entirely. A few even take tests to 'prove' they're clean, ignoring the fact that tests are easy to cheat: most steroids are undetectable after a weightlifter cycles off them for a month or so, while their effects can linger in the body forever. And, make no mistake, the effects of enhancement can be huge: in one study, a group of men who took 600mg of testosterone enanthate for 10 weeks and did no exercise saw greater gains in strength than a placebo group who took nothing and worked out normally. 'In my first cycle of testosterone in my early 20s, I climbed the status hierarchy in 12 weeks,' says Smith. 'I didn't use steroids to benefit my business, but I completely understand why people do it. It sounds bad to say, but if you want to ever make a living from fitness, you're almost stupid for even trying to do it naturally.' Meanwhile, it's not just influencers getting bigger who might be misrepresenting how they achieve their unbelievable results. In April this year, Peloton instructor Janelle Rohner agreed to refund followers who bought her course on food macros, after admitting to using GLP-1 weight loss drugs. 'I could have kept this a secret,' she said in a TikTok video posted after the subsequent backlash. 'I could have gone on and on for years and not told, but I don't want to do that. I don't want to be that person.' The implication, of course, is that plenty of people are prepared to be that person, and it's hard to argue. In the years since Wegovy and similar drugs have been approved for weight loss, plenty of influencers have undergone near-miraculous transformations, most of them citing clean eating when it's possible they're doing the exact opposite. At the same time, some influencers are taking a far more dangerous route than pills or chemicals – injecting synthol, an oil used to bulk up their muscles, or having high-risk 'Brazilian butt lifts' to compensate for bodies that won't change naturally. Bad influence: live streaming at the gym. Photograph: PeopleImages/Getty Images How much of any of this is a problem if you, personally, are blissfully unaffected by every Love Island contestant, #NoExcuses Insta-reel and celebrity success story? The answer, on a societal level, might be: quite a lot. In a 2022 survey from social enterprise Better, 23 per cent of men and 42 per cent of women reported that they 'rarely' or 'never' feel body confident. In a small-scale study from 2024 , participants who were active social media users, frequently liking and commenting on content, were less satisfied with their bodies and had an increased level of negative feelings about their appearance. For anyone who takes online influencers at their word, training can feel dispiriting and hopeless: even working out multiple times a day and eating perfectly, it can be impossible to reach the same levels of fat-free muscle as your Instagram feed will show you after 20 seconds of scrolling. And, of course, film stars male and female are hardly helping the situation by showing up more lean and muscular than they've ever been in their 40s or 50s, preaching the virtues of twice-a-day training and drinking lots of water. 'It's quite clear there's been an uptick in this stuff,' says Dan Roberts, a personal trainer who works with actors and Broadway stars. 'It takes time to build muscle, so when you suddenly build a lot of it, that's not possible without extra testosterone in your system, or growth hormone, or something. Also, sometimes the signs are just really obvious … when someone's neck thickens up suddenly …' Some fitness enthusiasts, meanwhile, are fighting back. In Reddit's 'natty or juice' community, members debate whether celebrities and influencer physiques are achievable naturally, or if their results show signs of substance abuse: a distended stomach (sometimes known as 'roid gut') can be a sign of excess growth hormone, while gynecomastia (an increase of breast gland tissue in men) is typically caused by an imbalance in hormone levels. On YouTube, bodybuilders and coaches such as Greg Doucette, Dr Mike Israetel and Derek Munro (whose channel, More Plates More Dates, exposed the Liver King) explain what actually goes into a serious steroid regime, as well as the disastrous possible side effects. But even with millions of viewers well versed in the minutiae of Winstrol or the signs of an HGH habit (it's all in the jaw), millions more hang on to the hope that the right protein powder or workout regime might be enough, and end up hopelessly disappointed. Shirtless selfie. Photograph: Getty Images So what's the solution? A good start would be for the most high-profile influencers and celebrities to be honest about what they're using and the risks they're accepting to do it. 'Look at testosterone,' says Smith, who posted a video about his own regime earlier this year. 'It's cheap, easily accessible, well tolerated and arguably less dangerous than a lot of other things young people do. There are multiple implications for using it over the long term, problems with use versus abuse, fertility and many other psychological implications and impacts to using it, but it's absolutely becoming more common. I look better with my shirt off at 35 than 25 because I now use a TRT [testosterone replacement therapy] service.' We could also reframe what we're looking to get out of exercise, from an enviable physique to a better quality of life. 'When it comes to our health, there are so many actually proven things we can do to live longer, be happier, fitter, stronger,' says Roberts. 'The good information is out there – we just have to look for it through all the noise and nonsense.' We should also probably ignore the people who have lied to us in the past. The Liver King has now, in a way, come clean: after claiming to go 'natty' for 60 days in an Instagram post, he admitted to being back on steroids in late 2023 (although he is still preaching the value of his 'nine ancestral tenets', which include sleep, sun exposure and cold therapy, and which the Netflix documentary claims were made up in conjunction with his marketing agency). 'I think he thought the broader message was more important than the steroids,' says Ben Johnson, former CEO of the Liver King's holding company, Tip of the Spear, who seems genuinely shocked that his former associate was doing anything untoward. 'It's unfortunate that the messenger has killed the message … when there's a kernel of truth at the centre of the message, it's easy to focus on that and ignore the other variables.' What isn't quite so easy is looking past the abs and the arms, and finding people who value health and wellbeing over aesthetics and false promises. But as anyone who's put in the work knows, sometimes the hard path is the one that pays off. – Guardian
News.com.au
17-05-2025
- Entertainment
- News.com.au
‘Got me': Liver King's downfall exposed in new Netflix doco
He's the muscle-bound 'barbarian' who claimed his enlarged physique was down to a stomach-churning diet of animal liver, testicles and fertilised chicken eggs. Daring stunts including bench-pressing 185kg weights underwater, pulling trucks on chains and caveman-like hunting techniques earned Brian Johnson millions of followers online. The married dad-of-two was raking in $100million (about $155million Australian Dollars) in sales annually from his supporters, known as 'Primals', who eagerly snapped up his offal-based pills. But in 2022 it all came crashing down when the 'Liver King' – who boasts of building a $300million (AU $463million) empire – was revealed as a heavy user of anabolic steroids who spent $11,000-a-month (AU $17,000) to preserve his super-sized shape, The Sun reports. Emails leaked by a social media influencer showed him seeking out 'pharmacy grade human growth hormones' that were described as being of a 'f***ing really, really high, super-expensive dosage'. Reflecting on that moment, which followed years of stern denials of steroid use, disgraced Brian, now 47, told The Sun: 'There was no denying that man, I knew he got me.' He also apologised to his followers and admitted to taking 120mg of testosterone a week. His remarkable rise and fall is the focus of new Netflix documentary Untold: The Liver King, which reveals his path from bullied 'runt' to controversial influencer and shamed con artist. And to the horror of critics, who have dubbed him a 'snake oil salesman', he also brags of a secret criminal past even before his Liver King days – adding he is still shamelessly flogging supplements around the world. Growing up in Texas, Brian claims he always felt like an outcast – in part due to a speech impediment that left him a target for classmates. 'I was getting picked on, bullied, beat the f*** up,' he says. 'Nobody was there for me, I just felt powerless, the feeling of helplessness and [being] completely lost.' Brian tells the documentary he felt alone. His father, a veterinary nurse in the US Air Force, died suddenly when he was an infant and without a male role model he was lost. He began to idolise his older brother, who was tall, strong and able to grow facial hair, as well as action hero actors Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone. 'Caveman cult' Brian went on to fall for his future wife and 'Liver Queen', Barbara, with the pair having two sons. He claims to have stumbled across the 'ancestral lifestyle' – the caveman-based way of life that saw him chomp down on three large bull testicles a day – while researching health remedies for his children. 'My kids were really f***ing sick,' he recalls, saying the family constantly had to race to the hospital due to them suffering worrying allergy reactions including anaphylactic shock. Brian would claim eating the offal-only diet solved their mystery ailments and also cured psoriasis, helped pregnancy and aided weight loss up to 20kg (3st 2lb) in six months for others. The lifestyle was based on 'nine ancestral tenets' – sleep, eat, move, shield, connect, cold, sun, fight and bond – which he claims are the 'life forces that have nourished our DNA for millions of years'. There is no scientific proof to back up their claims. His interpretation of the tenets would see him 'shield' himself by turning off WiFi at night, banishing phones from bedrooms and not using hormone-based fragrances to reduce any impact to fertility. Consumption-wise, he followed a raw, uncooked meat-only diet – quipping that it was 'lots of balls, lots of penises' in one video. He would also down up to 50 fertilised eggs at a time and scoff liver, tongue and testicles fresh from the carcass of a bull he had killed seconds earlier. He also hoarded enough gunsto arm a small country, including flamethrowers, assault rifles, 12 gauge shotguns, pistols and explosive ammo. 'Muscled Andrew Tate' By 2017, he was known as the 'Liver King' online. Four years later, he had millions of followers, appeared on popular podcasts including T he Joe Rogan Experience, and was making a fortune, The Sun reports. His businesses boasted 12 per cent growth every quarter for five years running, more than 250,000 customers a month and annual sales in excess of $100million (AU $155million). With this success and money, Brian – who was labelled by some a 'muscled Andrew Tate' after the ringleader of toxic masculinity – admitted: 'I felt new levels of invincibility, that level is dangerous… It was like doing cocaine.' His posts were becoming increasingly outspoken as he labelled fast food chains like Hungry Jacks 'the most brutal f***ing thing' and said feeding youngsters food from US restaurant chain Chick-fil-A, as well as chocolate and sweets was 'real child abuse'. The family claimed child services were called on them for allowing one of their sons to crawl inside a dead cow and feeding him animal testicles. But in November 2022, Brian's empire crumbled after the leak of emails about his steroid use – with online commentators quick to comment he was 'juiced out of his brain' and a 'filthy fraud'. In an apology video, he admitted he had 'f***ed up' and blamed it on 'self-esteem issues', revealing his longing to 'be someone' since childhood and having experienced 'very little failure' in his life. It fell flat among many former supporters, who labelled him a 'snake oil salesman' and fumed: 'You're not sorry for all the s*** you did, and the people you could have potentially hurt by eating balls.' 'Printed money' But, as the new documentary reveals, this wasn't Brian's first scam either. His criminal career began when he was working at vitamins company GNC as a teen. He began conning the firm out of money with customer returns that he would then sell to other branches of the store, stealing receipts to back up his claims. 'With enough trial and error, all you had to do was make it work one time, and then you just repeat it… it worked every single time,' he shamelessly brags. Brian evolved into making his own products and claims it escalated to the point where he 'used to print money, a lot of it' and turned his apartment into a 'f***ing chemistry lab' to make knock-off versions of the drugs. 'International drug trading, you know. Higher stakes, higher reward… my perception of risk is becoming distorted. I just never got caught,' he adds. It's not known if Brian ever faced charges for that con but in January 2023, after the steroid use was exposed, he was hit with a $25million (AU $38.5million) lawsuit from former followers, alleging harm through deceptive advertising and marketing practices. They claimed he orchestrated a 'cult-like, extreme and implausible regimented lifestyle' to earn millions from the sale of pills, powders and supplements. But within months of being served, the main plaintiff withdrew the filing – suggesting a financial agreement was brokered away from the courts. 'I dug myself into this whole shame, sorrow, guilt, regret, I felt that man… nothing is more real that,' Brian would later admit. Now the social media star claims to be 'born again' – still boasting 2.9million Instagram followers and 6.1million on TikTok – but now he eats fruit and vegetables too. 'I was so convinced by all the carnivore stuff, that that's what you needed to really kick ass in life. I'm convinced now that I was starving myself,' Brian says. 'I guess I want the world to know that I got it wrong, each passing day goes by I realise I don't know s***... an extreme approach to anything probably isn't f***ing working out.' 'I have this new freedom, I don't have to lie about anything,' he adds, while acknowledging he still sells supplements and has more than 302 retreats all over the world. Some believe Brian has atoned for his mistakes, but not all are as sold – especially considering his refusal to fade away into the background. One critic firmly insists he remains a 'snake oil salesman', adding: 'Of all the scammers, con artists and f***ing liars, the Liver King is the f***ing worst one of them.'
