Alright, things are getting super serious now. In just two short weeks, I will take the stage. I alternate between being confident and positive, congratulating myself on my hard work and results, and incredibly negative and anxious that I will look absolutely stupid and people will think “why is she on that stage at all, did she even prep for this thing?” I go between the two extremes approximately hourly. Suffice to say, I’m feeling a little stressed. But it’s going to be ok! That’s what I keep telling myself, anyhow. I have to stick with that.
In my last post, I mentioned that I had begun working on posing with a new coach, but never expanded on that. This is actually a very important part in the novel that is my contest prep, so, I should probably not exclude it.
Let’s begin with a riddle: How is prepping for a competition like home ownership?
I’ll just let you ponder that as I continue.
Remember wayyyyyyy back, my first post, when I decided I would first compete? A kind man at the gym approached me and asked me to join his figure competition team. Totally jazzed, I agreed, and threw myself wholeheartedly into preparing for said competition.
The man continued to be kind, and showed me a couple of exercises that I added to my repertoire, however, it became increasingly obvious that he was not, in fact, my coach, as I had believed. I was calculating my own macros without any guidance at all. I was in charge of my own lifting programming, with the exception of the couple of things he had shown me. We were not meeting to practice posing, as many of my friends who were prepping for the same show were with their coaches. I was growing more and more frustrated every time I spoke to my “coach,” as I came away with less and less information, and felt less and less like I was being heard. It took me way, way too long to realize that I was prepping myself. I thought I had a coach, but, I did not. I was my own coach.
By the time I realized what this meant, I had already put so much time, effort, and money into the competition, including signing with a sponsor, that it seemed foolish to back out. So I did what I always do, I jumped in and gave it my absolutely everything. Currently, this prep is running my life. NOT RUINING. But running. I don’t have a coach to manage all the details, so I have to worry about every little thing. My nutrition, my training, my peak, the hair the suit the makeup the jewelry… Luckily I have an unbelievable support system in my husband, and a knowledgable friend or two I can bounce things off of when I realize I’m about to overreact and do something stupid. But this competition, it’s all me.
I did, though, get a few posing lessons from a really, really incredible coach, who is a competitor herself, who just recently won the overall for figure at a show. She has been a tremendous help, and I can honestly say I would have walked on that stage and looked like a damn fool without her. She coaches for a well-known team here in San Diego, and the team has been so incredible, even inviting me to weekend group posing sessions where I can work with other competitors and get additional feedback. I’m not a member of the team, but they sure have done a phenomenal job of not making me feel like a total outsider too, and for that I am forever grateful. Should I decide to compete again, I will very likely look into working with this team.
But right now, overall, I’m a bit of a one man wolfpack in this thing. I’m feeling a little bit, or a lot bit, lost, overwhelmed, and scared. But whatever happens, I did that. If I take last place, I did that. If I manage a top 5 finish, I did that too.
So how is prepping for a competition like home ownership?
I had something really clever lined up as the solution this morning in the shower, but I seem to have forgotten it. Something to do with DIY projects never going as planned and sometimes professionals exist for a reason. Oops.