Recent comps:
**May 7, 2016 RPS Mid-Atlantic Powerlifting - Raw 132, Pro total
**Sept 24, 2016 NPC Indianapolis Grand Prix - Women's Physique
Scott Paltos has been doing my programming since March 2015 for both powerlifting and physique. The off-season was programmed to add more size and work my technique on my raw lifts. Then slowly transitioned to raw powerlifting meet prep for May. In June 2016, we began prepping for the September show for a bigger and thicker package.
If you read my last log, you saw that while the competition was lacking, I still brought my best physique yet. Obviously going into a show/meet/comp, you never really know what kind of competition you will have. When I first found out at check-in I was the only one in my class, I thought, "Why the hell am I even doing this?"
One of my closest friends texted to ask how it was going. "One of the biggest pieces of advice I was given is to be fierce -- I'm sharing it with you in hopes that it drives you to complete success tomorrow."
I sat there, thinking about that word and what it meant to me in that moment. I was a little down being at my show by myself... but I also knew that being FIERCE with every pose and all my energy would cause a lasting impression on the judges and audience.
"I think I'm the only one. Trying not to let that get me down. I guess all the more reason to go out and be extra fierce!!"
FIERCE - adjective
* having or displaying an intense or ferocious aggressiveness.
* showing a heartfelt and powerful intensity
I let this sit with me for a bit as I had time to myself. This word completely changed my outlook on the show. Be you. Be intense. Be confident. Show them who you are. Practice being confident and aggressive now, so when you compete against 20 other women, you know what you need to do. Make them remember you. Make your mark.
If for no other reason than this, competing was going to be worth it.
On the day of the show, I walked into a room with young fresh blood scattered in little camps. Overhearing conversations -- first show jitters, diet stories, suits that didn't fit. Over the course of the next several hours, I was met with remarks like,
"Wow, you looked amazing up there!"
"Your physique is insane!"
"I hope to someday compete in physique too. You look awesome!"
And sure, it's always nice when someone compliments you on game day, after all the hard work you've put in. But more than that, many of these girls were new... not just to competing but it seemed to training as well.
For those that know me well know I don't like to talk about myself. So when asked questions about my prep or how long I've been competing, I keep it simple.
"I prepped for 12 weeks" or
"I've been bodybuilding for 3 years, powerlifting for 17."
That last statement is always met with a wide-eyed look to which I say with a smile, "It's the reason I have so much solid muscle." I'm not there to tell girls how to train or pick apart their diet. I hate when I hear girls comparing how many rice cakes they ate over the course of 12 weeks, as if it's a battle of who suffered the most. I simply say things in hopes that it might be a seed for someone later in their competition career.
After the night show and doing my routine, I was met once again with kind words and compliments. But I was sensing more and more that it wasn't about me. These young girls were "inspired" (that word is tossed around so much, but for lack of a better word, I'll use it) by what I had done and accomplished.
What I hope they saw was years of hard work. Years of always trying to improve. Having fun in the process. Smiling along the way. That maybe they will take their competitiveness to the next level and not be a one and done. That maybe continuing to compete drives them to do more and try more things. To train harder. To train heavier. To help others along the way.
Maybe.
My last story involves my post-show dinner. I headed back to my room, showered my stinky tan and overpriced make-up off and headed across the street for some good food. The host (Mike) says as he walks me to my table, "Follow me... Sunny will be your server. He's a real hoot!"
I sit down at my table and up trots Sunny, a skinny kid, kinda hipster, dark rimmed glasses. He sits across from me, bubbly personality and says, "Hi, I'm Sunny."
"Hi Sunny... I heard you're a real hoot."
He looked at me chuckling, but puzzled.
"Yeah, that guy... Mike? He said you're a hoot."
"Oh please. What the fuck does Mike know? Who the hell is Mike anyway?" (Yeah, probably not best customer service to cuss to your customer, but oh well.)
He made small talk by asking what I was doing in town (a bodybuilding show, hence my glutton this evening). I asked what he recommended to which he immediately replied with a bacon cheeseburger and some garlic fries. I took him up on the offer and ordered exactly that.
While waiting for the food to arrive, he came over to check on me and sat down again. He joked about my unhealthy eating that evening and finally said, "I really want to start working out. I've been saying that for the past year, but I just can't make myself go! What's wrong with me?"
I laughed. "Nothing's wrong with you. In fact, I have a lot of clients who say the same thing... they want to work out, be healthy, eat healthy, but somehow the potato chips find their way to their mouth."
"I don't know, man. I just don't wanna be skinny.... actually, I don't mind being skinny. I just want to be able to look like I can handle myself. Like if I had to apply force against something or someone, I could do it. But I just can't seem to make myself go."
"Well, Sunny... what do you do when one of your students (he mentioned he was a student teacher) doesn't like doing his homework, but he needs to study and needs better grades. How do you make that kid do his homework when he doesn't want to?"
"Well.... I make it fun. I make it enjoyable so he wants to do it."
I looked at him with a look of "see where I'm going with this?"
"That's exactly what you have to do when it comes to working out. It has to be something you enjoy. It could be rock climbing or biking or swimming or basketball. For me, it's lifting weights. I have friends who do triathalons and others that play sports. But whatever it is, you have to want to do it.... so you wake up in the morning and you're like, "Man!! I can't WAIT to go rock climbing later!!"
"You're exactly right Julia."
"Have you ever thought about martial arts?" I asked, based on his answer of wanting to be able to exert force, defend himself, etc.
"Oh my gosh, I have!! I've been wanting to do that... like Tae Kwon Do... or even Karate... or I don't care, but yeah!!! Something like that!!"
He sounded so passionate, so excited.
"But it's so expensive," he said.
"It can be. But it sounds like it's something that really interests you. Keep looking around, you'll find something."
I chugged down an Oreo milkshake. Sunny passed by one more time with the check and left it quietly on the table. I reached into my purse to find a pen. On the back of the check, I wrote a note.
"Sunny... your energy is contagious. Now go and start those martial arts classes. Even $10 from every night you work can go a long way."
I immediately left the restaurant. (I left money for the bill, of course, and a tip to get him started on those classes.) I will probably never see Sunny again. And you know what, he may take that tip and blow it on a couple beers or some weed. Who knows.
Or maybe... just maybe our conversation was just enough to open his eyes. I know it did mine.