This is part 7 of an 8-post series. Continued from here, which I strongly recommend reading prior to this post so you understand what is happening in this one.
So I think I maybe slept 4 hours. I was in and out of consciousness throughout the night, fully waking up on my own at 4:30 am, and then struggling to fall asleep again. I gave up at 5:30 and just got out of bed and started packing my food for the day in the cooler. There was not much else to do: I couldn't shower because it would remove the tan, and pre-judging for the NPC show wouldn't start until 12:30 pm so there was no point in putting on my makeup this early, especially when I had to be sprayed with tanning solution again.
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| There was an enormous cooler under that green throw. And the little brown Wegmans bag has my stuffed oatmeal cookies for after!! |
IFBB stands for "International Federation of Bodybuilding and Fitness" (yeah, there's no "F" at the end) and as the name states, is international-level competition. Like what the FEI is to endurance. NPC stands for "National Physique Committee" and is the largest amateur bodybuilding organization in the US. So it's like what AERC is to endurance. See? Parallels. You qualify for IFBB through pro-qualifier NPC events, just like you qualify for FEI through AERC. This NPC show was a pro qualifier, so even though the classes were small because it was a brand-new show, it was still A Big Deal.
As for the show date? It was my birthday. I would be turning 38 years old on a stage basically in my birthday suit (get it???), the fittest I have ever been in my life. Not many people can claim that. Why did I choose to do this? After spending 2/3 of my life feeling like I was never enough in any way, shape or form, I was proving to myself that I was more than enough. I am more than enough in other aspects of my life nowadays, but this was me finally letting go of my own perceived physical flaws. It was about not only letting go of that mentality, but it was also proving to myself that I was more than enough to the level that I can mold my body into what I really want it to be while loving every second of it and appreciating what my body can do for me...AND compete against the top 1% of fittest, best-looking people in my region...and place. All along, I had the secret goal of not only doing this thing, but also placing.
The thing was though, that by this point I honestly didn't care about placing anymore. I just wanted to get up there and Do The Thing. Despite my social anxiety, my stage fright, and my hatred of feeling like an ignorant noob in new situations, I have never been calmer about a competition EVER than I was about this one on Show Day. I had already won the battle: the one against my mind. I was free.
On show day, my body was even darker than the evening before and my muscles were flat from plain exhaustion, but I wasn't worried about it. All I could think was that I loved every inch of this skin I live in and I couldn't wait to strut it across that damn stage in 5" stripper heels.
When I was very little and just learning to speak, my family would play this game with me:
"Who are you?" they would ask.
"I am Nicole," I would say assertively.
"And who is Nicole?" they would prompt.
"Nicole is Nicole," I would reply.
My mom always commented thoughtfully that I always affirmed who I was with such confidence in knowing myself even at such a young age.
I have spent my entire life trying to regain that sense of self.
As Carlos and I grabbed the 8 million things I had to take to the show, I thought about that, about what my mom used to say. I was wearing my ratty old "Caribbean Pirate 200 Years Too Late" T-shirt (because it was appropriate given my new skin color and existing cultural heritage), baggy yoga pants that were two sizes too big, and a pair of old black flip flops.
And I held my head high, grinning as we walked outside to the car.
"Nicole is Nicole," I thought to myself, "And there is no one else I'd rather be."
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| Staring out into the wild blue yonder when I was 7 years old and knew who I was, during a summer spent at at my grandmother's house on the island. |
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We arrived right on time. Carlos dropped me off at the hotel and drove around the block so we wouldn't have to pay for insanely expensive parking x2. South FL parking is more expensive than D.C. parking. Baltimore parking is even more expensive than South FL's!
I went upstairs to the 6th floor, where again I stripped and was airbrushed with another coat of tan. I had mysterious smudges in odd places (like the front of my left thigh and the back of my right arm) that got fixed. I then stood in the dry pod in front of the fan again, was re-dusted with the Magical Powder, scrambled back into my loose clothes and ran back out to the elevators. While waiting my turn for the elevators, another girl who was obviously a competitor (we were all sporting matching dark shimmery tans by then) asked me for my opinion on when to put on makeup: at the hotel, or at the Convention Center? I told her I would be doing mine at the Convention Center since it was still early and I didn't have a hotel room. We got to talking and it came out that we were both noobs. I did a double-take though: she was wearing a hoodie and even through the sweater you could see the curve of her shoulders and the sweep of well-developed traps. She was spectacular and really nice, and I felt like I was WAAAAY out of my league...because yup, she was one of the people whom I would be competing directly against. "Are you in Bikini?" she asked. "Nope, Figure," I replied. I felt scrawny by comparison.
The elevator dinged and we got on, still talking about the show. Carlos was outside waiting in the car by the time the elevator left us in the lobby, so I said good-bye to the other new competitor and ran out to meet Carlos.
The Convention Center was down the street from the hotel. We thought it was going to be a mission to find parking close to it, but there was an Event parking lot right next to the Center that was only $20 for the entire day. It was early, but while we were still in the car I went ahead and put on the base layers of eyeshadow so my face wouldn't look so weird with the tan alone.
We then hiked over to the Convention Center, where it took two attempts to find the exhibit hall where the Fitness Expo was being held...and then we were in.
I was expecting a much larger thing, mainly because my only point of reference for any type of Expo was the North American Veterinary Community Conference & Expo, which is held in Orlando every February. They use two exhibit halls at two different hotels and it is an ENORMOUS event. I used to go every year when we still lived in Florida because you learned so much and you could find so much veterinary equipment and pet supplies and samples for a steal, if not outright for free.
That said, there was quite a bit going on here. There was the main stage for the two bodybuilding groups, several vendors spread out, and then the powerlifting and Strongman events in the background towards the opposite end of the space.
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| The stage. |
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| Audience and seats facing the stage. The Strongman events were beyond the metal temporary fence, powerlifting was off towards the corner on the left in this photo. |
All the pros were backstage, and it was co-ed. A and I were the only NPC people there...actually, we were the only females there: all of the IFBB Physique guys were getting ready to step onstage at 10:00 am. A had set up her stuff in one corner and I found another spot next to an electric outlet so I could plug in my phone when necessary. I settled down for a minute to let everyone know what was going on via text (Trainer, who was en route; Shanna, Jess, Meggan, Karen) and then looked up to realize that A had disappeared and I was the only girl backstage in an ocean of barely clothed super-sculpted male bodies getting ready for their division of the pro show. Wondering if I had missed some sort of memo telling the women to leave the backstage area to the men, I left my stuff in my little reserved spot (A had left her things too), grabbed one of the egg white snacks I had packed, and hightailed it back out to the main exhibit area to hang out with Carlos at least until the men went onstage.
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| Men's Physique. These were the IFBB pro guys. Emphasis is on upper body development, which is why they wear longer trunks. Classic Physique is the next level up, and they do have to show leg in that division. |
This was taken at home the evening before the spray tan while practicing with the contouring kit (it didn't match my natural skin tone at all, but it did end up matching the spray tan perfectly); it was filmed for and sent to Shanna during an episode of absolute silliness. I wanted to make sure my eye makeup would be on point , and also practice putting the damn fake eyelashes on. I kept having visions of one of them falling into my eyeball during my individual model poses. #graceful
After eating my snack and distractedly watching the beginning of the men's IFBB divisions, I left Carlos to return backstage to scope out the area. The IFBB Bikini girls were now getting ready, but I also recognized some people from the NPC group. (Once you've seen pros, you can tell who's NPC, believe me. Not dinging NPC AT ALL at all, but the pros are a whole other league.)
The backstage was a large rectangular carpeted space with a wall of windows. There was a long table with chairs at one end, and beyond the table there was a small hallway. I walked in that direction to see if there was a restroom, since I had seen people disappear into the hall.
There was indeed a restroom...there were now at least 6 of the IFBB girls getting ready in the small space, but I was able to see that it had a single sink with a wall-length mirror, and beyond that a half wall...with a single toilet beyond the half wall. There was NO DOOR. No door separating the toilet area from the sink + mirror area. It was the most bizarre set-up I have ever seen, especially given that we were a mixed group. My understanding is that the men's and women's areas are usually separated at these shows, but that was not the case here.
The hallway continued past the "bathroom" into a sort of food storage area that did have a door. Wondering "WTF?" I walked back to my spot and just sat down on the floor to try to read on my phone to kill time. Friends and family were not allowed backstage at this show, and backstage passes had not been offered for them.
So, remember what I said about the Bikini division in my first post of this series? That it's the "easiest" division with the most natural body types? Well, that only applies to NPC maybe and to the natural competition groups like OCB. The IFBB Bikini girls looked like they had been sculpted out of stone. They were absolutely flawless. I knew they were pros, I knew they had all been training and competing for years to get to this point, Trainer had warned me in advance to not let the experience of seeing the pros intimidate me, and I was STILL borderline hyperventilating in their presence as I tried to rein in my mind from spiraling into the deep dark pit of, "You are not enough. You shouldn't be here. What were you thinking?"
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| Wanna know what the pro bikini girls looked like? This is an actual photo of some of them from this show. The first girl on the left was absolutely stunning in person. Like I said: sculpted from stone, all of them. Photo from here. |
I sat down in my corner to continue reading. Even more of the NPC group was backstage now and the vibe was completely different. I watched their dynamics quietly. By mortal standards, this was still a group of near-perfect human beings akin to demigods and goddesses, but they were so much more laidback in general than the pros: there was joking around, especially among the guys; there was confidence, yes, but there were also equal measures of awkwardness and shyness. Just like you would expect in a group of people that was going to parade mostly naked in front of an audience and a group of judges. Even then, the pros had spiked an onslaught of butterflies that now had me positively nauseated. I was having the hardest time regaining the center of calm I had had prior.
Finally Trainer texted, "I'm here."
I ran outside to the general public area. I barely recognized him in street clothes and it took him a minute to recognize me in the tan. It was kind of comical.
And just like that, the butterflies vanished.
I know a lot of you compete at equestrian events without trainers, and I commend you for that. I've been spoiled for most of my competitive career: I like competing with my trainer present at the show and was happy to pay the trainer fee just to have them get me through the warm-up: a good trainer warms you up with exercises that give you confidence and reminds you that you do, in fact, know what you are doing. During my 6 years of heavy competing in the Jumpers in PR and later in Tampa, FL, I always had my trainer at the show with me.
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| Warming up Grasshopper over a 2'6" oxer at a Pinellas County Hunter Jumper Association show in Tampa, FL. That's my trainer, Berna, in the purple and black sweater on the right. |
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| From that one time I competed sans trainer at a Parkland Horseman's Association hunter show in Parkland, FL. Little Bella and I won Grand Champion in our division. Not bad! |
I updated Trainer on the status of things and then fetched Carlos from the audience. The guys had met before when I was first introduced to Trainer by Tony, and I brought up one of the things they have in common: a love for trashy horror movies. They hit it off right away.
We hung out watching the Strongman events, of course. I had told Carlos about Trainer aiming for that as his next competitive goal. Carlos was fascinated by the whole thing because it was unlike anything he had ever seen and he peppered Trainer with questions. I was just happy to be able to watch something else and listen to a different conversation to take my mind off of my own events: I was getting a very welcome reprieve!
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| One of the guys from the heavyweight division |
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| Yes, they do reps lifting a CAR |
I was watching the clock though: at noon I was going to go backstage again to start to get ready. Trainer couldn't stay to watch my part of the show and had to leave around noon anyway because of course this day had fallen on the one event a man should never miss: the first birthday party of his firstborn child!
We all watched the powerlifting for a while...and then it was time. I sort of groaned: I'm 80% tomboy. I get along better with guys in general. I feel most "me" in jeans and boots and you couldn't pay me to grow my hair out. The most traumatizing thing about puberty for me was not getting my period for the first time, it was realizing that I'd have to wear a bra for the rest of my life because it meant I couldn't hang around in public shirtless anymore like the guys. Now that I'm grown up, I do love having the option of transforming entirely into Woman and making jaws drop. But my presentation for this show was an extreme case of Girly-Girly that was way beyond my comfort zone.
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| At my most "me": outdoors, wearing jeans, boots and a leather jacket. |
"How do you know I don't play with that stuff?" he retorted. He tried but he couldn't even keep a straight face when he said it. I tried to imagine him with kohl eyeliner and fake lashes. Nope, not happening. I snorted with laughter.
Carlos and Trainer walked me down to the entrance to the backstage area while the butterflies threatened to come back. I turned to Trainer, not wanting to forget later, "Can we train on Tuesday??"
He seemed surprised. Maybe because a lot of people will take the entire week after a show off? I didn't want to do that.
"Yes," he said.
"Can we lift heavy? I want to lift heavy," I said, bouncing up and down. I had heard over and over that the time immediately after a show is amazing because that's when you are at your strongest. That it's like having superpowers, thanks to finally being able to both rest your body properly and feed it carbs on a regular basis again.
My excitement made him laugh, "Well, we have to build up to that, but yes."
"Okay. Let's! Yay!"
I'm such a dork.
The three of us stopped in front of the backstage door. Carlos had been chuckling over this whole exchange. Trainer wished me luck and told me to be confident when I stepped up there, that these competitions weren't just about size. He was referring to the fact that I was not as "built" as your average NPC Figure competitor. He listed everything I had done right up until this point, pointing out the same things that A had: this was my first time and I had figured out on my own things that a more seasoned competitor would have known to do.
With all seriousness he added, "You got this. You will do well." And then, "And you know you'll do great because I normally don't give out compliments."
I was like, "Huh?" "I've always thought you are really good with positive reinforcement!" I was beaming though. He didn't dish out compliments for free and he wasn't open about them, but they were there if you paid attention. Having to work for them made them that much more rewarding. And then there was also his ability for having me do all of these incredibly hard things during training sessions while still setting me up for success: that was more than enough positive reinforcement all by itself.
He made a mock stone-cold face, "What do you mean?" It didn't work. I burst out laughing and so did he.
I said good-bye to the guys and walked backstage alone. For the first time since the show had started, I was dead calm.
The backstage area was 100% NPC crew now. Since I was calm now, I realized I was ravenously hungry. Someone had parked their stuff next to mine in my corner, so I shifted my stuff to make room for me to sit down. I ate another egg white snack, then went off to figure out the makeup situation.
The restroom area was packed with girls getting dolled up. I sat in a corner on the floor with the handheld mirror that I had had the good sense to bring and tried to apply foundation and contouring but the lighting was an absolute nightmare in there. I couldn't see what I was doing. There was a much larger women's restroom for the general public outside and I debated going out there.
But first, I got up and walked down to the end of the backstage hallway again, to the little food storage room. It so happened that the lighting in there was PERFECT: bright white light. And there was a table where I could lay out my stuff. Grinning from ear to ear, I sat down and got to work, finishing up with the caterpillar fake lashes. I then quickly slipped into my suit, threw the short kimono-type robe I'd gotten for the occasion on over it (these are the norm backstage as a cover-up at these things), and bailed so the guys could take turns using the little room to change into their posing suits/trunks. Everyone was incredibly nice and considerate given what an awkward situation we had all been put into, but the guys were especially so.
Upon returning to my spot, I realized that the person that had parked her belongings next to mine was New Girl: the one with the amazing body that I had met earlier that morning at the elevators. She was new to showing but she was not new to this world itself: she had been involved with it for at least a year, between her bf and her trainer. We got to talking and soon we were participating in conversations with other people. I continued to be impressed with everyone. Everyone had a story, and all the stories were really good ones. Some individuals had gone against insurmountable odds in order to be there. Some had battled obesity, chronic diseases or past injuries in order to make it to the stage. You can buy a rig and an Arabian horse and get a foot in the door of endurance fairly easily with a reasonable amount of money and equestrian experience. Like, if you have an Arab on pasture board, you don't even have to do that much conditioning. For this sport? You can have the trainer and a nutritionist and even shortcut your way through it if you really want to...but even then everything you do in your daily life is still going to play into it. Even how much you sleep is going to affect the outcome. And that is why the more I had learned about this sport, the more I was drawn to it: because it's so goddamn hard, because it requires so much attention to detail.
I just sat back with my legs propped up on my bags (you want to do this while resting to avoid water retention in your lower legs. Yup, even that can have an effect on how you look!) and listened in awe while munching on rice cakes with jam as directed. (This is a show day staple: everyone backstage had rice cakes along with spreads to put on them: some had jam, others had honey, and some had peanut butter. Rice cakes = carbs, and if you've read this far you already know the power of carbs when it comes to their positive effect on your appearance when your body fat % is this low.)
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| Legs propped up. So sparkly! This was the tan in its natural state: no oil! I continued giggling to myself about being an extra dark edition of a Twilight vampire. (Also: there were at least 2' of space between that guy's back and my feet.) |
Time stopped for a while...and then accelerated, moving faster than I wanted it to. At work when time warps in an emergency, I can internally slow down and split what I have to do into smaller steps so I can get everything done efficiently without missing a beat. I did not get that here because it was a new environment and I couldn't predict how things were supposed to flow.
Before I knew it, my division was called for glueing and glazing. I stripped down to my suit, slipped into my stilettos, and took Trainer's resistance band with me. My suit bottom was quite literally glued to my butt so it would stay in place, and then oil was slathered all over my body. They call it posing oil: it's meant to highlight your definition, further hide flaws, and also has the benefit of truly moisturizing your skin. This is done to all the competitors and in this case it was a service provided by the on-site tanning company. Not all companies nor all shows offer this: the general consensus is that you should have your own Bikini Bite and oil just in case. Which I did have, because #prepared.
We all took different spots "pumping up" while waiting: you do different exercises with the resistance bands to warm up your back and shoulder muscles especially, which will accentuate definition. Like I've said before: most fit people look completely different cold vs warmed up vs in full effort. If someone looks all veiny ("vascular" is the correct term) and striated and super-defined while cold, they are usually taking some form of "help"...
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| Case in point. No one should look like this just hanging around cold. This is just uh...this is just no. This is scary and it is a very extreme example so you guys can appreciate "unnatural" striations and vascularity. And NO: NO ONE looked like this at this show, not even the pros! |
Music is a huge deal for me (in case you haven't noticed yet from reading the blog!): I had practiced my posing to a variety of music, mostly club beats or chill electronic music like Thievery Corporation. I had been hoping with all my might that they would play SOME sort of music in the background during the show because it is so important for setting the tone and mood. I had been positively thrilled to realize they had been playing some really awesome music throughout the entire event so far; I had wanted to mentally dial into it when it was our turn.
In the end, I couldn't tell you what they played for us. I completely tuned it out. All I remember is the silence in my head, because of course I was first to step onstage AND I was the only one doing my model (solo) poses in this round because the other girls in my group had already done theirs in previous divisions.
I hit all my poses, almost forgetting to smile. You have to make eye contact with the judges below and that was hard. In dressage you salute the judge and then go off to do your test. In Eq and Hunters, you just do your course as best you can. In judged equestrian sports, you have the option of forgetting there is a judge there while you concentrate on your horse and performing. Here you have to both smile and look right at the judges while switching poses, knowing that they are evaluating you.
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| Photo by Chris Nicoll, used with purchase |
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The competitor in purple was New Girl, the one that had been sitting next to me backstage. In terms of musculature, she's pretty much exactly what the judges are looking for in Figure at NPC shows.
Photo by Chris Nicoll, used with purchase
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I blinked and we were walking off stage again. We then went right back on again almost immediately for my second and last class, which had one additional person in it. No one did model poses for this one because we had all done them already, so it was just comparison poses.
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| All the variations of the same back pose. You are supposed to arch your back so the judges can see it: they are sitting below stage level. You can also see what I mean about HEELS TOGETHER. Arrgh!!  Photo by Chris Nicoll, used with purchase I do wish I had thought to remove some of the oil. I remember thinking it was a lot. Definitely too much! But I didn't see anyone else do so, so the thought didn't even cross my mind until I saw the pics later. Too many other things to think about at the time.  Photo by Chris Nicoll, used with purchase Apparently you're supposed to lean forward a bit for both the side comparison poses and the front pose. I had not been told this and I had honestly not appreciated it in the videos I had watched, but now I know. Live and learn. #noob |
Like A later said: you train so hard for so long and then your time onstage goes so very quickly!
I had this enormous grin across my face that made my cheeks hurt. Holy shit I couldn't believe I'd done it. I did The Thing! You guys, I didn't tell you about this but on top of everything else, I have THE WORST stage fright. THE WORST. Not only had I trained and worked for months for this Really Hard Thing, I had also gotten over one of my worst fears in the process, just for funsies...and then done it with not a whole lot of fabric covering my body and in a pair of the tallest heels I've ever worn
Everyone coming off the stage was texting their coaches and trainers. I too texted Trainer to let him know how it had gone. "How did you feel up there?" he asked.
"Like I wanna do it again!" I want to do it again and own those poses next time.
By 2:30 pm, the pre-judging for all of the NPC classes was done. (No one knows why they call it pre-judging since this is where the actual judging takes place.) Technically the show was over, but because all the classes were small (aka we had all placed), we had to stay until finals for our awards.
Finals for IFBB started at 6:00 pm. NPC finals started at 8:30 pm! It was going to be a LOOOOOOOOONG wait.
A lot of people left to return later. Technically Carlos and I could have gone home and come back in the evening, but we didn't want to have to pay for parking again nor pay for his ticket to watch finals. I had slipped back into my kimono robe and flip flops, and Carlos and I went down to the other end of the Convention Center to grab coffee from a Starbucks we had noticed when we arrived, while I texted everyone to give them updates on my status.
Turns out that there was a fraternity meeting at the other end of the Convention Center: an enormous group of middle-aged men in suits was hanging out around the Starbucks. Between the kimono, the crazy tan, the stage makeup and the fake lashes, I stood out like a very, very sore thumb. "Carlos, they're going to think I'm your hooker!" I snorted in a whisper in Spanish as we got in line at the coffee shop. I was clinging to his arm. Carlos was all, "No, they're just going to be mad jealous because you're mine. Hooker or not." And he grinned. I was biting my lip hard to keep from bursting into laughter. My silly mood was by no means gone: I was actually in a state of euphoria now after surviving my stage debut.
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| So imagine this in an ocean of suits. |
"Yes," I said.
He was very excited about it and commended me for it. That made me grin from ear to ear. Since he had answered everyone's unspoken question about why I looked the way I did, the odd glances stopped.
We made our way back to the exhibit hallway. I had been cleared for sushi for lunch. I might have had a tantrum where I told Trainer there was no way in hell I was only going to eat rice cakes all day given how long the day was going to be. I had thought we would be able to arrive between 10:00 am and noon to get ready for the NPC part of the show and had been horrified to learn the evening before that we'd have to be on the grounds by 8:00 am. And then Finals had been made even later for NPC, which we had also been informed about at the last minute. No one had been very happy about that.
So now I snagged my sushi from my cooler and sat in the stage audience area with Carlos while wolfing it down.
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| It was a California roll from Wegmans. No soy sauce because sodium. It tasted incredible anyway. Sushi is among my favorite things and I had not had any in 3 months while training. I wanted to lick the tray after. |
We all alternately talked and texted friends and read on our phones, and I grinned over the bombardment of "Happy birthdays!" on Facebook. I also wrote part of this post, which was a huge help for remembering details clearly, since I'm typing it up more than two weeks after the fact.
It was the longest intermission ever. We took turns getting up and walking around. The only event still happening was powerlifting; the rest of the exhibit hall was quiet and with the exodus of the crowds, the AC had kicked up significantly. I was freezing.
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| BORED. And yes, I was still wearing the fake lashes. I didn't take them off until we got home that night. |
Eventually the competitors started trickling into the backstage area as they returned for finals. Carlos took it as his cue to exit back to the audience area. I really wished they had had backstage passes at this show.
One of the girls, a hilarious extroverted gorgeous Amazon of a woman that was also competing in Figure, came back from an excursion to a nearby burger joint: she figured she had lost her class so she had gone all out. I had seen her before...and now after having Real Food, her body had come alive: her arms looked defined and veins stood out as if she had just worked out. This is why you carb load: for that precise effect. The "Pandora Forest" effect, as I called it in this post.
Finals ended up being strictly awards. And OMG did it get drawn out...they started out letting the winners of classes and divisions give speeches, which drew it out even more. Since pre-judging had ended early, we had all been hoping finals would get moved up, but it did not happen.
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| Seriously |
Trainer periodically checked in via text and was horrified when it was nearly 10:00 pm and none of the Figure classes had been called up yet.
I was outright delirious by this point. My body was exhausted, my muscles had gone flat hours ago, and I just felt spent. I had eaten my rice cakes with jam and they had made no difference. I was angry because the restaurants back home would all be closed by the time we got out and I didn't want to hang out in Baltimore after the show. I was dying for a hot shower where I could scrub off as much of the stickiness of the tan as possible, and couldn't wait to remove the fake lashes. I was seriously debating just grabbing Carlos and leaving without my awards when he texted from the audience:
"They're giving out swords."
WHAT.
"The awards are swords! All the way up through 6th place!"
OMFG! I had seen the long tubular boxes and for some reason had assumed they were posters. That's what your brain does when exhausted + dehydrated + Real Food deprived.
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| The "poster" boxes. There are two of them in this pic that had already been given to other competitors. Those boxes had swords in them!!! |
Everyone, including myself, had been in constant contact with their trainers and coaches during the intermission. I had just been in the middle of a tirade to Trainer about the ridiculous amount of time we had been waiting for this to be over already when Carlos told me about the swords.
"Can't believe it's taken that long," Trainer had just replied.
"OMG THEY'RE GIVING OUT SWORDS!!!!! SWORDS AS AWARDS! ALL THE WAY UP TO 6TH PLACE!!" I blurted suddenly via text.
There was a pause.
"Dammit," Trainer responded.
You see, he's the one that had mentioned they sometimes give swords as awards at these shows; I had had no idea this could potentially be a thing until he asked at the beginning of training if they would give out swords at this particular competition. I had checked and the show info just said said they would give out trophies.
Trainer's long-time dream was to win a sword at a show. Usually they're medieval-type swords.
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| Random photo to illustrate the type of sword award that is usually given out at these competitions, if swords are trophies. That's still a big "if." |
THESE WERE FUCKING KATANAS. AND I WAS GOING TO BE TAKING HOME TWO OF THEM regardless of placing because my classes had been so small. TWO SWORDS...AT MY FIRST SHOW. What were the odds??!!
I might have rubbed it in a little bit. :D
We were called outside for touch-ups and so our suits could be glued on again and we then still stood in our heels for close to another hour before we were finally called onstage. Everyone in my division was restless and irritated over how much this had all been drawn out. Around then, everyone gave up and broke into their special treats for after the show: New Girl had a bag of fruity trail mix. Another competitor had a bag of straight chocolate chips. One of the Bikini girls was drinking Pedialyte. I slathered almond butter on a rice cake and took out the chocolate milk I had brought as my recovery drink. I did a silent toast to Dom and literally chugged the entire thing in one go. It was so freaking good. I had not had real chocolate milk in months.
I could not feel my toes by the time it was our turn, and I had a low-grade cramp in my left calf that did not want to go away. My jaw felt so tight by then from cramping that I apparently completely forgot to smile when I went onstage for my final model pose. In my head I smiled. I was kind of horrified when I saw the pro shots and realized that I had, in fact, not smiled at all.
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| Well, technically I smiled I guess. You're actually supposed to grin. You're also supposed to still be flexing everything, even if the placings had already been decided. I forgot to do that too. And I also don't remember. :/ Photo by Chris Nicoll, used with purchase. |
But either way, I turned 38 years of age at exactly 11:44 pm while still standing on that stage.
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| This was my fave of all the pro shots, mainly because I look like the real deal here. I felt so tiny and scrawny...and I wasn't! Photo by Chris Nicoll, used with purchase. |
We were given our swords and then we all rushed into the backstage area so we could GTFO of there. My classes had literally been the last two to be called for awards! I took the shoes off STAT and hobbled into my flip flops.
Carlos helped me grab my stuff and went to get the car out of the event parking lot while I ran over to the general public restroom so I could remove my suit and slip into my yoga pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. They say the suit glue sometimes takes the top layer of skin off, but I had no issues with that.
There was a Cheesecake Factory within walking distance from the Convention Center that I had drooled over when we had first arrived the day before. Everyone else was going there to celebrate now. But we had a long drive ahead of us and all I could think of was SHOWER. The last thing I wanted to do right then was sit in a restaurant full of people feeling as grimy as I did and have to wait to be served.
I dug into my oatmeal cookies the moment my butt hit the car seat. After looking forward to them for months, I had been expecting to be let down by them. I was not. They were absolutely heavenly: crunchy on the outside and the cream inside was light and fluffy, and they were cloyingly, amazingly sweet, and I was only able to eat 1 and 1/4 of them because my tastebuds had forgotten what true sweetness was. Carlos got to have what was left of the second cookie.
We both wanted dinner. We debated IHOP or Denny's because both are 24 hours and close to home, but I didn't want to get out of the car still wearing my stage face. We ultimately just swung by McDonald's where I ordered my favorite: breakfast burritos. I'm not a fast food person at all, but I have a soft spot for Mickey D's breakfast burritos thanks to my time at the tack shop in Tampa. When my boss was running late, she would bring me a burrito as an apology; they were among her favorite things and she got me hooked on them. They have been part of my endurance carb loading for the last two years and even though it is now over 12 years ago that I worked at the store, those burritos still remind me of my favorite Irish lady, Maryanne. (It also doesn't hurt that they are listed among McDonald's healthier food items. So there's that too.) Yeah, apparently everything in my life has a story, including fave food items...
Once home I set the food aside so I could rip the boxes with my katanas open like a little kid at Christmas, slipped back into the competition suit, and we got this photo.
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| OMG so badass!!! I seriously did want to strap those bitches to my back and walk around with them for the rest of my life. I consider them my prize for being both strong and feminine. Also: remember when I was told in the beginning by Coach that I wasn't cut out for this sport? Yeah. So much for that! :D |
You guys don't understand: among my family's many unusual interests are a love for both everything Medieval and for Japanese culture. My brother owns a REAL honest-to-God katana that he bought from a weapons store when he was in college after saving up for months. He taught himself how to wield it in the samurai fashion.
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| Dearest Astarte, guarding my brother's (sheathed) katana back in the day. |
So winning two katanas at this show hit a hard-to-explain level of fulfillment for me. From the first moment that magazine fell open on the prep guide for a show back in October of 2016 to now having these two swords in my hands, everything had indicated with unparalleled certainty that this was the thing that I was supposed to be doing, that it was the correct choice. Why? I don't quite know yet because it wasn't something I had truly seen myself doing up until less than a year ago. But I hope I get to find out!
But back to the evening of the show: those were the best breakfast burritos I have ever had. And the shower afterwards was beyond incredible. It didn't take much scrubbing to turn the water black from the excess tan solution. I had been expecting the water to turn orange from it, not black. That's how dark that paint was! There was still quite a bit of remaining tan on my body afterwards, but it was this gorgeous golden color that meshed really well with my natural skin tone. I was surprised by how much I liked it. There are perks to not being white! :P
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So where did I place? I placed third and fourth: last in both classes. I know why (you might be able to tell by looking at the pro photos, even without knowing much about the sport), and that's absolutely okay! :) You have to start somewhere; I was just happy that I was conditioned enough to fit in! New Girl won our class of three, which I had been expecting: she absolutely deserved it. The second class was won by the girl in red. If you look closely at the pro photos, you should be able to appreciate why as well. This region has some of the toughest judges and is part of why I had been so concerned about the lower half of my body being as on point as I could make it: I didn't want to be laughed off the stage. Most people aiming at NPC train for years before deciding to do their first show at this level; they start out competing in the natural groups like OCB and then move up into NPC. Like starting with LDs in endurance and then moving up to 50s, which is what makes sense. But as you guys know I like to do things backwards apparently, because who else starts endurance not only with 50s, but with the Old Dominion 50 itself?? I came in dead last for the Turtle Award, but I completed. So this felt eerily like a parallel in that sense too.
Ultimately I was still thrilled with how I looked and felt about myself stepping on stage, and that's all that matters. I enjoy running because it's a constant competition against myself and this sport was exactly the same in that regard. I'll go into more of that in the next post.
Ultimately I was still thrilled with how I looked and felt about myself stepping on stage, and that's all that matters. I enjoy running because it's a constant competition against myself and this sport was exactly the same in that regard. I'll go into more of that in the next post.
I got all of my wishes: I got up on that stage and was competitive despite being a complete noob in a tougher organization, I placed, I won
This is not what it's like for a lot of people that compete in this sport, but it certainly was for me. I went ahead and decided to do one of the toughest things I have ever set for myself as a goal, both mentally and physically, and I did it while enjoying every step of the way, which is exactly how I wanted it to happen.
Life is short and time runs out. Stop waiting until tomorrow or the next show season or next year. If you really want to do something, stop thinking about it so much and go out and do it! You won't know whether you can accomplish it unless you go out and try.
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| One tripod katana-guarding Zombie Cat while we decided how to mount them on the wall in the living room. :) |
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Next up is the final post in the series: Aftermath, Analysis and Reflections
