My husband forgot I was competing this month. He turned to me in the car yesterday and said, “You’ve been completely different this time around.” In my brain, I jumped for joy. I think I did a little car dance as well. My goal in each of my preps is to always be sure that my sport does not affect my family. Bodybuilders are typically the extreme type, maybe that’s why I was drawn to this sport in the first place. As a former control freak and perfectionist, I used to like the idea of measuring food in grams and ounces and controlling everything I ate, but as I evolve in the sport I have become more flexible and less of a neurotic mess. I’ve also realized that while my husband supports me he really doesn’t give a crap all at the same time. Except on show day, when he’s all in. Then he’s my biggest fan, even if it is on FaceTime when he’s in another city for his own competition. So while I have a calendar taped on the fridge which counts down to the big day, I’m otherwise pretty quiet on the subject in our home.
My brain hasn’t forgotten that I’m 11 days out though. I write this post at 3:42am from my kitchen table. Last night was one of those nights where I couldn’t sleep, so I might as well get my cardio in and head to the gym soon. The Yorton Cup is only 10 workouts away. This year there will be more girls, perhaps three classes of pro bikini girls this time; there were only two classes last year. Up to 30 women, shredded hard-working 20 somethings and even better looking 30 and 40 somethings with many years under their belt building muscle. Some of the competitors I know from social media, some are sleepers and will just show up on show day and rock the stage. You never know who your competition will be until the official roster is released on Wednesday of next week. Regardless, I have already won. I met with my coach yesterday and he saw me in my itty bitty sparkly bikini for the first time in person (I usually send him photos or videos), and he said “damn girl, either your waist has gotten smaller or your booty is that much bigger.” Boom. Stamp of approval. 9 months. 144 days of lower body lifts went into building that booty. 11 weeks of dieting so far went into shedding the fat so you can see the roundness of the muscle and the hip indent. Hard ass work. I am one proud woman.
I’ll step on stage in October 27th and enter the subjective competition of bodybuilding. The winner determined by the thoughts and opinions of 8-10 impartial judges and who they think looks best. I have one job that day, be my best self. As always, thanks for your support and words of encouragement. Head down and go till the big day.
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