Last week, my head wasn't in the game. I was losing confidence and spiraling. Old words "You're not an athlete" spoken to me years ago kept repeating in my mind as I struggled through my posing practice. It was the middle of the night and I got into a hyper focus of practicing my routine over and over again. Videoing, then watching, then videoing, then watching. Such a short routine, but such a difficult thing for me to perfect.
Seven weeks out from my first competition and I was starting to doubt the legitimacies of my abilities. I felt old, wrinkled, and uncoordinated. I was fearful I was going to get on stage and make a fool out of myself. I was holding on to old beliefs that I was not an athlete, and therefore, did not belong in a competitive spotlight. The Rebecca that says "age is just a number" and "we can do hard things" and "it's never too late to try something new" had simply disappeared from view.
My posing coach Annie recognized right away that I was blindly walking towards a deep, dark, cavernous hole that contained no ladder nor other way out if fallen into. She kindly reached out to check in and help me nip my spiral in the bud before it was too late.
I was in a trance-like, automaton state not even realizing the emotions I was feeling from past traumas associated with my lack of athleticism as a youth and young adult. Growing up in inner city Chicago and then Manhattan, I didn't have the usual exposure to youth sports that are typical with suburban children. By the time we moved to Tucson and I started high school, my peers were way ahead of me in their athletic skill sets. I joined a volleyball team my freshman year of high school for a short time but it was clear early on that I had not been spending years volleying like my fellow teammates.
Aside from playing racquetball with my dad and his friends during high school, then in pick up games at my college recreation center, my participation in athletics was limited. It wasn't until after my children were born and in school that I decided to take on the challenge of running a half marathon, which kickstarted my adult athletic career.
With the start of some serious negative self-talk last week, I had forgotten that I have been in this space before wondering if I would be able to perform only to come out the other side having achieved the very goals that once seemed unsurmountable.
I'm still a newbie in the bodybuilding world. The first bodybuilding show I'll ever attend will be one in which I am competing. But I have been a newbie in sport before. And, if my life extends long enough, God willing, I'll be a newbie again.
This week I'm in a much better head space. I'm remembering the Rebecca who was not blessed with tremendous genetic ability yet fought her way to a Boston Marathon qualification and completion. I'm harnessing the energy of the Rebecca that learned how to ride horses in her 40s and went on to compete in 50 and 75 mile endurance horse races with top ten placings.
This week it dawned on me that I have a track record of ending decades of my life with huge athletic goals. My first marathon was in my transition from age 29 to 30. Horses were my goal for age 39 to 40. And now as I'm rounding out my 4th decade of life, I'll be competing on stage in an itsy bitty teeny weenie velvet red bejeweled bikini.
It's different. The sport of bodybuilding. It's not about who crosses a finish line first. It's not just about speed and grit. There is grit and dedication and focus and perseverance to get to competition day. But it's also about poise, presentation, finess, and confidence. It's about being meticulous in all aspects of living, not just in the gym. It's about the many hours of hard work being packaged up and put under a spotlight for individual and comparative analysis. It's about being willing on my own terms with the support and guidance of my coach to work towards meeting a specific set of physical criterion predetermined by others.
To do this requires intense, long term physical and nutritional training and execution. To do this well also requires long term mental training. Included in this are things like sleep, sunlight, and some form of mental training like meditation or visualization. If the mental and psychological side of this sport is not attended to, the physical and nutritional requirements are liable to be negatively impacted. Fatigue, illness, injury are just a few things that can stop progress in its tracks if one does not pay close attention to their body and their mind. Self-doubt and lack of confidence can play a massive role in recovery during training and prep and wreak havoc on posing practice and performance on stage.
The majority of our work has been done to get my body to be ready for stage. My weight is holding steady and we are at the point of tweaking and fine tuning. But just like with posing, the mental side of this sport is often underestimated by new and maybe even seasoned competitors. I momentarily forgot this last week. With a reminder from Annie to jolt me out of my downward motion, I now remember this critical component.
I have fallen into a routine with my plan. After working with Coach Chantel for almost a year, I have learned how to (mostly) execute on her plans for me. She feels I'm ready for this competition and I have placed my absolute trust into her. Because of her coaching and guidance, I have gotten so much better at setting my meals ahead of time and sticking really close to them to hit my macro targets. I'm so much better at water intake, which honestly, if you know me, has always been a huge struggle. My remaining six weeks will be focused on getting my head in the game and making this the best possible experience for me through mental training and visualization.
In the book, The Mental Edge - Maximize Your Sports Potential with the Mind-Body Connection, author Kenneth Baum states the following:
"Over the years, I've discovered that every change in your mental or emotional state is accompanied by a corresponding shift in your physical state. So a key part of the Mental Edge is learning to minimize your mind's distracting and counterproductive messages and signals to your body."
I've proven to MYSELF before that I am an athlete. And I will prove it to myself again. I've put in the work. I've done my weekly check ins every single week for almost a year. I belong on stage for me. Yes, I'll be competing against others, but this competition will also serve as a thank you to my body for bringing the best of myself that I can bring in this moment. And to honor THIS body for the tremendous amount of work it has been able to endure.
Competition day will be a day of celebration - no matter what the results! As long as I remember this, I'll be able to shut off the noise around me.
Here's to six more weeks before Comp Day!
