Went to the cupboard.
Despite being close to the show.
When she got there
The cupboard should have been bare
Since she has trouble with “NO”.

Here’s a recap of the competition from yesterday.

The competition was an hour away from my house (w/o traffic) in Hollywood so I had decided I’d drive down in the morning which meant I got a good nights sleep in my own bed.  I got up at 6 am put on another coat of tan because I looked more like child who had been playing in the mud under a sprinkler than a “glamourous” figure competitor. After the tan I put on my face and Brent took a few pictures before I headed out to pick up my friend Martha.

Slowly growing some lats.

Only shot where you can see The Abbeys.

We get to to the high school where the show was being held and walk into the “athlete’s meeting”.  Which I  get a kick out of because I’ve never considered myself an “athelete”.  I’m just a girl who is obsessed with nutrition and likes to workout hard.   Right away, I notice that it was a much younger crowd than my last competition.  It’s not that I’m old but 31 and two kids definitely feels different than 20 and no kids when I am about to go onstage in a bikini.

After the meeting, I go backstage to find a space in the dressing room.  Good thing this is a small show because the dressing room is the size of a closet.  I start wishing I had a brown paper bag in case I hyperventilate.  The men check in first and then the women move out to the lobby to check in.  I notice this one beautiful girl who is walking around with her shirt held up with a hair clip to show her GODDESS abs.  Seriously.  I have NEVER seen abs like that on a woman. Miss Abs was also naturally tan, tall, with long exotic dark hair.  I’m sitting there feeling like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man’s sister and praying that she isn’t in my class.  The check-in lady calls for the novice figure women and Miss Abs stands up.  I mutter something like “Oh %$#&” and immediately start wishing I had stayed out of the peanut butter jar and did a little more cardio.  The peanut butter just didn’t’ seem worth it standing next to Miss Abs.   As she is paying I look down and notice her fancy iphone has picture of herself as the screensaver.  Normally, I’d roll my eyes at such sillyness but in the moment  I’m thinking I’d do the same thing if my tummy looked that good.  In fact, I’d probably put a billboard of myself in my front yard if I had abs like hers.  Damn peanut butter.

So I go back to finish getting ready because of the heat my face looks like my 6 year old did my make up while I was sleeping. Let’s just say I’m a little white (or fair as I call it) and getting to my face to match my body and then stay that way is like trying to freeze a chocolate bar in a hot car.

This is a drug tested competition which means I have to pay $60 to pee in  cup.  The girl gives me the cup and looks at me as if I’m supposed to squat right there in the middle of the dressing room.  Motioning to the one room bathroom I ask, “Can I go in there?”.

“Sure but I have to watch?”, she replies.

What???   She has to watch.  Give me a break.   I don’t even go to the bathroom in front on my husband and I’ve had very little water the past 12 hours.  I sit there and try act like this is no big deal by making stupid jokes.  After 5 or 6 minutes I’m running out small talk and realize God is not going to answer my prayer the way I want.  I let her know I just can’t.  “We’ll get it later,” she says.  Yipppeeee can’t wait.

As I said this is a small show so it’s moving really fast and before I know it I’m waiting in the wings of the stage to go on.  I’m doing my best to remind myself that I did this to LOSE but seeing the young tight girl next to me is making me feel like Old Mother Hubbard who went to the cupboard too many times.  But the cupboard wasn’t bare.  In fact, the cupboard had Costco size jars of peanut butter.  They call my number and for a minute I think maybe I really am an “athlete” as I imagine sprinting through the auditorium in 5 inch heels.  I survive going onstage although I’m smiling at the judges as if they are holding loaded guns instead of score cards.  Now we have a 3 hour break until the night show.

The really nice thing about this show is the location. Not only is it relatively close to my house but it’s on the corner of Melrose and Fairfax which means Urban Outfitters (Yes I’m 31 and still shop at UO) and a bunch of other fun little stores are within walking distance.  And since it’s Hollywood I don’t feel like freak with my orange runny “tan”, in fact, I feel like I fit in even more.  Martha and I go to Crossroads Trading Company.  It’s a buy-and-sell-used-clothing store and every time I go I find something cute and cheap.   This time it was a pair of Joe’s Jeans in a size 26 (no stretch mind you) for $30.  They were a tight 26  but after walking on the stage next to “I’m 20 with the prefect body” they were just what I needed to give the ego a lift.

After some shopping and pizza we walked back to the high school for the evening show where they hand out the awards.  I’ve drank big glass of green tea so I manage to serve up the urine sample with a side sarcasm.  I seriously considered leaving but decided against mainly because I’ve spent much of my life starting things and not following through.  It’s a pattern I’ve been working really hard to break so I go back to feel like Old Mother Hubbard one more time.

Right before I walk on stage it occurs to me that this is so not me.  I love to dress up just as much as any girl.  I love to feel beautiful just as much as any girl.  But figure competitions are just not my idea of beauty and glamour.  Not that they aren’t glamourous and beautiful in their own right but unlike a lot of girls nothing about the look but the muscle appeals to me.  I have always loved old school retro glamour.  Fair skin, red lips, elegant dresses, and classic hair. That’s the style I’ve always  gravitated towards (aside from my one year as a cheerleader in high school) when I want to feel beautiful. In that brief moment, I don’t think I have ever felt more like I was somebody else in my fake tan, tiny bikini, stripper heels, and over the top make-up.  It was surreal and I started to ask myself some questions but before I could get into my deep nonsense about why I was doing this they called my number.  While I was onstage I suddenly felt a strong sense of peace and okay with who I was despite having logs instead of legs.  I looked for my friend so I could give her a smile and I smiled a real smile at the judges.  They lined us up and started to give hand out placings.  I was fully expecting to hear my number first which means I would have received 4th or last place.  When they called Miss Ab’s (The pictures do NOT do her justice.) number I was really shocked.  Then they called my number for 3rd.  The girl in the green was 2nd.  The girl in the pink was first.  (She was totally adorable btw and very much deserved 1st.)

My friend and I decided we would leave early so I rush backstage eager to put on my new jeans.  I hike them up over my thighs and button them pleased as pie to be wearing a size smaller than before.  Then I squat down to pick something up off the floor and RIIIIIIIP.  No joke.  My new ego inflating jeans just deflated my ego like someone letting go of an unknotted balloon filled with air.  I don’t know wether to laugh or cry.  I decide to choose laughter because there is SO MUCH more to life than the size of the my jeans.  Besides who needs those stupid old Joe’s Jeans when I have The Braxtons.

So how do I really feel about my placing?  You know of course I would have enjoyed winning. Who doesn’t?  I was also a little relieved not be be last but I also sort of feel like I should have been.  I thought Miss Abs looked really great and could tell she had worked hard.  Had I been a judge I think I would have placed me last.  The thing is, it really doesn’t matter all that much to me.  It never has been about winning for me.  When I say I enjoy the preparation more than the show I mean it.  When I say do this to lose I mean it.  I didn’t reach 115 but 119 feels so much better than 126 to me.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again I grow and learn from the preparation.   I didn’t give this contest preparation a 100% and that’s not good.  Not because of how I placed but because I ultimately believe in good work ethic, following through 100%, and doing what you say you will do.  Had I won it would have re-enforced my half-azz tendencies.  I’m going to hang my third place plaque in my garage right under my first place plaque NOT to remind me that 100% effort will get you a first but that a 100% effort is so much more satisfying than 90% regardless of the outcome.

So what’s next?  Well I was delighted to step on the scale this morning and see 119 so I should probably work on getting over the scale.  But I digress and I still want to reach my goal of 115.  Honestly, I’m not sure why.  It’s just the number I’ve had in my head as my “perfect” weight which is total crap because perfect is relative and happiness is certainly not found in the bathroom on my scale.   Regardless, I want to follow through and reach my goal even if it didn’t happen on my competition day.  My birthday is 2 months way so that gives me 8 full weeks to lose 4 pounds and buy a pair of  size 26 jeans for my present!!!  Totally doable and healthy.   Although I’m tempted, I’m not going to do any more shows for a while because I think I should practice managing my food and exercise better for my family, myself, and for God.  I want to face some of my struggles with food (binging) head on for no other reason than it’s the healthy thing to do.   I’ve been wanting to learn how to use kettlebells so I’m going to start incorporating those as well.  I’m going to finally buckle down and get my personal training certification instead of talking about it.  I’m going to focus more effort on my taekwondo because at my  last testing I got some good feedback from my instructor and one of the guest judges.  I think it might be more in line with my natural strengths (flexibility and speed) not to mention I’m more comfortable in my uniform than a bikini!

Last but not least, I’ve been working on some changes for this site.  I’m SO EXCITED and I hope that these new changes will encourage and inspire more women to “change the world by choosing health”.  (Yes, I dream big!)  So stayed tuned to be a part of the mission!!

Once again THANK YOU so much for the support (and making it to the end of this long post). I’m grateful for your readership and want you to know how much YOU inspire me.

XOXO
jenn

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The post Old Mother Hubbard appeared first on Girl Heroes.

Today I’m 12 weeks out from wearing my silly sparkly suit and heels.  I admire the hard work and discipline of all figure competitors, but I can’t help it, I just sort of feel like a goof walking around in a bikini and heels on a stage.

Then why in the world am I doing another??  A few reasons.  One, setting a date adds a level of intensity to my workouts.  “Memorial weekend” just doesn’t do it for me.  Two, I enjoy the challenge of the journey. I discover my mental weakness and my strengths.  Three, I actually enjoy lifting weights and the two go hand in hand.  Four, as much as I actually dislike walking on the stage and feeling like a beagle in heels, it is rewarding to reach a goal after months of discipline. And lastly, The Abbeys.  Of course. I could set a goal to do a mini-triathlon or half-marathon (both things I’d like to do at some point) but I can train for one of those and still eat big buttery soft pretzels every day.  I shouldn’t but I could because I wouldn’t be judged on appearance. Ruff ruff.  In fact, I think I might use that sort of endurance training as a justification to eat mounds of refined carbs.  After all, I would need fuel for that long run so that muffin from Starbucks might not be a bad idea. Not with a figure competition because those muffins will turn into muffin tops.  Yeah, I have issues.  Self-control is one of them.

I have less to lose this time around.  Less fat.  Less depression.  Less low-self esteem.  I hope that doesn’t make me boring.  Last year I got to 118 but I had set a goal of 115 and this year I want to reach it.  This means I have 10 pounds to go or roughly a pound a week. I’d like to reach 115 the week of the competition before my water drop and have the answers to all psychological issues like Dr. Phil but less annoying.  As before, the competition for me is about losing.  Losing some more of the baggage that keeps me from being the woman God calls me to be.  And I’m not just talking about saddle baggage.

xoxo
j

The post Competing to Lose II appeared first on Girl Heroes.

A “Good Idea” Pudding
1/2 cup of low-fat cottage cheese
1 scoop of whey protein powder (I prefer chocolate.)
1 tsp agave nectar or other natural sweetener (optional)

That’s it. Put it in a blender (I use a little Cuisinart rip-off machine) and blend until smooth. I personally think this tastes delicious and I don’t use any extra sweetener. But I haven’t had refined sugar in 9 months so I’m not too hard to please right now! But be assured, I did give a bite to my husband and he said it was good! And he is a food snob. No offense love!

If you are a total WHOLE FOODIST and the idea of whey protein makes you want to gag and your stomach muscles cramp then try Another “Good Idea” Pudding.

Another “Good Idea” Pudding
1/2 cup low-fat cottage cheese
1 banana
1 tsp agave nectar or other natural sweetener (optional)

Once again put it all in a blender and give it a whirl. Top it with some crushed walnuts and you make be able to trick yourself into thinking you’re eating a fancy dessert.

A “Good Idea” Pudding – Approximately 265 Cal, 10 g carbs, 30 g protein, 11 g fat (these totally depend on the protein powder you use.)

Another “Good Idea” Pudding – Approximately 150 Cal, 19 g carbs, 15 g Protein, 2 g fat

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I was thinking about this time of my life last year. Honestly, I was a wreck. Unless you knew me well you might not have known but inside I was hurting and struggling with some severe depression due to some circumstances outside my control and faulty wiring in my brain. The thing with the faulty wiring is that I’ve learned over the years, through some intense therapy and hard work, that I can function really well IF I take care of myself. But this takes some serious discipline, a skill I greatly lack. For some, reason last year I wouldn’t take care of myself. I was eating crap all the time and I started to slack on my exercising. Unfortunately, this is a bad cycle and it’s hard to break, even when your not depressed but I think if your depressed it’s even harder. Because you know going to the gym will help your depression but since your depressed you can’t find the motivation to care. So as the months wore on, I felt worse and worse and eventually quit exercising all together and was eating crap all the time. My depression started to compound with a series of disappointing news. And then a friend who I had confided in used personal information to betray and hurt me. Although, my friend had given plenty of warning signs, the emotional pain sent me deeper into one of my worst bouts of depression. And after a few months I wasn’t sure who I had become. I was angry at my friend.  I was angry with God for not “fixing” my brain.  I was angry at the housing market. (I still am.) I was angry with my body. But most of all I was angry at myself.  One day I tried to pull on a pair of jeans that I had worked really hard to fit into after I had my kids but they wouldn’t button. I had to go out to the Goodwill box and get an old pair of jeans that I was planning on giving away because they were, at one time, too big. This was a very painful moment for me. I know weight shouldn’t matter so much and it’s what’s on the inside that really counts. And I believe that. I REALLY DO but the reality is we live in a culture that values beauty and for most people fat is not considered beautiful. I tried to tell myself that what I looked like didn’t matter. But the truth was, to me, it did.

It was time to get honest with myself and my choices. There were a lot of disappoints and hurt surrounding those months but I had chosen to console myself with food and apathy. I had chosen to abandon who I really was and what I believed was a healthy lifestyle. I was choosing to be angry instead of looking to the root of my problems.  I had to make a choice. Was I going to continue to console my feelings with food and get sadder and fatter or was I going to face my feelings? I decided I would start small and get back to the gym a few times a week. And I started watching my food.  I decided to quit eating sugar. Within days I started to feel better.  A few months later and a few pounds lighter I decided I needed more motivation if I was going to get in the best shape of my life. So I set a date to compete in a figure competition. And now a few months later, a year after one of my worst bouts of depression began, I feel like a new person. I knew cleaning up my diet and working my butt off in the gym would…well…shrink my butt. What I didn’t know was that this would end up being much more than a battle with fat. But it became a fight to dig up some of my old “moxie” that had been buried under hurt, self-doubt and depression.

If you struggle with depression and are reading this, I want you to know that I and many others know what you are going through. And as cliche as it may sound, it’s imperative, if you are not taking care of the basics, i.e., getting regular exercise and eating well, that you start to do so. Don’t wait. Start small. Start today. Most people can improve their depression if they take care of the basics and after you take care of the basics you’ll be amazed at how great you can feel. I’m not a doctor or psychologist by any means but as a fellow person, a friend, who has struggled with depression off and on, I’ve noticed a HUGE correlation with my mental well-being and my food and exercise habits. When I’m taking care of myself my body responds by taking care of me. Not that a healthy diet and exercise will solve EVERYTHING. It won’t but it sure can make a enormous difference.

Wow. I sat down intending to write about how excited I was to see 120 pounds on Evil Scale but realized that what I’m truly excited about is how great I feel due the the healthy lifestyle choices I’ve been committed to the last 6 months.  And I want you to know that no matter where you are on your journey that you’re awesome (yes I still say “awesome”) and that great things are ahead.

Hugs & High Fives
j

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Evil Scale – “Hey whacha doing? Aren’t you going to weigh yourself?”

Me – “No I’m waiting until Sunday.”

Evil Scale – “You weighed yourself yesterday. I’m down today.”

Me – “No you’re not.  LIAR!”

Evil Scale – “Down. Look in the mirror.  I think I see some abs.”

Me – “Leave me alone. You just want to upset me.”

Evil Scale – “Awww come on. Just step on me and see. I might be down. Besides it’s only water weight.”

Me – “Well, maybe you’re right. Maybe you will be down.”

Evil Scale – “Come on. Besides, you know you need to know so you can eat accordingly.”

Me – “Oh yeah. You’re right. Well okay.”

I hopped onto Evil Scale and stared in horror at a number that I would have cheered at two months earlier.   Nooooooooo!!!!  I spent the next hour consoling myself and cursing Evil Scale.

xoxo
j

The post Evil Scale appeared first on Girl Heroes.

So when I started shopping for my suit and saw how EXPENSIVE they could be I called my mom. We spent this week working on my two-piece. I found some royal blue stretch velvet in my garage that I used to decorate my dorm room that we’ve been using. So not only am I going to be wearing a homemade suit but it’s homemade with fabric from the garage. I love it! And when it gets closer to my show I’m going to decorate it. As I knew it would, the suit turned out FABULOUS!!! THANKS MOM!!!!! I’m just a little freaked out about how UN-FABULOUS I look in the thing right now. I mean it looks like it was made for a 10 year old girl. I’ve seen swimsuits in the girl’s section in Target that are bigger than this. But I still have time and I’m going to hang it up in my room to remind me every morning to eat clean and workout hard!

My mom was only here for a week and I didn’t want sewing to take up all her vacation time. So I decided it was best if I had someone make my one-piece. I found some fabric at Joanne’s. (I thought the sparkly red furry fabric I had in the garage would be a bit much. I’m serious, I have about 10 yards of that stuff. Don’t ask.) Anyway I’m going to send it off to a girl who made my friend’s last one-piece. Hers turned out fantastic and the price is good compared to a lot of others. My tow-piece is also going to be plain and I’m going to bling it out myself to save some more cash. So many girls talk about how they spend thousands on competing. I mean seriously. Not me! I’ve spent a total of about $250 dollars so far, including my suit, fabric, shipping, and supplements. I still need to buy the tan stuff, rhinestones for blinging and probably a few other things but I don’t see myself spending too much more. So at tops, I’ll spend $500 and I could sell my suits and get that back if I want. I just look at the $500 as an investment in my physical and mental health. Not too mention it’s a heck of a lot less and risky than plastic surgery!!

xoxo
j

The post Ragamuffin Figure Girl appeared first on Girl Heroes.

That is what I asked when my dear friend told me she was doing one a few years ago. This is how I’d describe it. In figure competing women walk in 5″ clear heels on stage wearing silly sparkly bikinis and ridiculous looking one pieces while being judged on their muscularity and symmetry. (Of course, lots of girls loooove the suits. I DO NOT. It’s the MILE HIGH cut legs, they just look soooooo 1987 to me. But I’m a hipster-boy-short-kind-of-chick.) Figure competitions appeal to women who want to build muscle but don’t necessarily want the muscle mass of body builder. This is about all I know about it. I know their are standards of judging but since I’m competing to lose I don’t really care much about those standards.   What I can tell the standards change from show to show or judge to judge anyway.  So I’ll do my best and pray I don’t fall onstage.

For me, the competition is not about wanting to be judged.  In fact, that scares the crap out of me but it has gotten me motivated.  Motivation and discipline are what I lacked to get in the best shape of my life or to get fit for that matter. I think this is why a many women compete.  Of course, some “get the bug” and eventually go pro.  That is not part of my plans or even a part of my dreams.  It’s for fun.  I mean who doesn’t find a walking on stage in a swimsuit that’s so small you have to glue it to your bottom “fun”.  But I do think it will be rewarding in an odd sort of way and the lessons I’m learning are invaluable.  Which is ultimately why I decided to do this.   I still have a few more months so I’m eager to learn more about myself and who God created me to be.  Not “be” in the physical sense but mental.

For a long time, I’ve struggled with self-discipline because I set the bar too high only to feel like a failure and give up when I can’t achieve it.  But there is an inner voice that urges me to keep going despite disappointments and setbacks. This time I’m setting the bar low.  All I want to do is LOSE and anything else will be icing on the cake.   Mmmmm….cake.

Update: You can read the results of the competition here.

xoxo
j

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