In 1900, Eugen Sandow was the most famous body in the world.

He had arrived from Prussia with nothing and built himself into a spectacle. Audiences paid just to watch him stand on stage, flexing under electric lights. His muscles looked sculpted from marble. Thomas Edison filmed him. Ziegfeld put him on Broadway. Women fainted at his shows. Men bought his books by the thousands.

When asked the secret to his extraordinary physique, his answer surprised everyone.

They expected him to talk about weights, about barbells, about routines, about the hours of grinding labor that seemed to explain his extraordinary form. But he talked about nature. Fresh air, daily sunlight, clean water, and simple food. He walked outdoors every morning, trained with windows open, and ate plain meals while others drank wine. He treated his body like a garden, and it showed.