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NUMBER
FIVE AND STILL ALIVE! |
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I've been
negligent. Well, not really negligent, just too darn busy. Anyway,
I'm reading my weights lists from over a week ago, and I read
Nancy Andrews' post about her winning the WNBF World Championships
in New York on November 15. Her statement of the fact was typical
understatement--you have to know Nancy. From what I understand,
she won the contest over some mighty tough competition. I wish
I could have been there to see. Congratulations!! But...I
was in Pittsburgh doing the ANBC Nationals. And I'm only writing
about it in a little more detail to share some of the humor
of the experience for some of you who have read my posts last
year relating my experiences in this arena. Of course, now--in
my second year of competition--I am a "seasoned" competitor.
Sort of. My decision
to compete a second year was based on the fact that the Nationals
were in Pittsburgh, because I grew up 45 minutes from there.
I thought that this would be a chance for my family to be a
part of a bodybuilding event, allowing them to share in an activity
which has become a fairly significant portion of my life. Some
of you may remember that my mother is not terribly excited about
bodybuilding. I was not really looking to convert her to a true
fan, but rather to open her eyes a bit, and let her realize
that it isn't such a terrible thing afterall. Whether I succeeded
or not is anyone's guess. Because
I was going "home", I decided to take a couple of
extra days off and I flew to Pittsburgh on Tuesday. I stayed
with my younger brother and his wife in their new home, arriving
fairly late and dragging him to his gym so that I could get
in my last workout. His wife was away on business, so he didn't
mind the company, and he even indulged me with his attention
as I hit a few poses while training. Fortunately the gym--actually
a health club (you understand the difference, I think)--was
fairly empty, so I didn't attract too many stares, which would
have made him much more uncomfortable. For those of you who
compete, I'm sure you know how it is to feel all eyes staring
at you while you train, because people can't figure out why
you keep hitting poses and staring in the mirror. They probably
assume that you're so overwhelmed with your good looks, that
you can't help yourself. On the other hand, we know that we
are looking, thinking, "Damn, why couldn't my lats be wider?"
or "Shoot, my thighs are still too smooth..." Narcissism
has nothing to do with it. Rather, you are involved in construction,
and the mirror is your tape measure. More often than not, you
are not satisfied with the quality of your work. That accomplished,
we returned to his house and turned in. The next day, I got
up late and eventually drove to New Castle, to my parents' store.
I took my computer so I could get some work done, and I took
a bag of food. The computer seemed reasonable, but the bag of
food confused everyone at first. I explained a little about
my dietary activity at this point (I was carb depleting), and
after a few questions, I was able to focus on other issues of
interest. Surprisingly, my parents thought I looked great. I
realized, though, that they were much more used to seeing me
with a thinner face, so while I thought I looked like my cheeks
had sucked in and I was all drawn and dehydrated looking, to
them, I had a nice tan, and I looked healthy. That was a bit
of luck. The day was uneventful, until my mother told me we
were invited to some friends' for dinner. I told her I'd have
to eat my own food, which, amazingly, she accepted, passing
the information on to our hostess. As it turned out, meatloaf
was on the menu--with the only additives of carrots and onions--so
I ate that and some carrots for my carbs, satisfying everyone
involved. That evening,
I returned to my brother's house, where I got him to apply the
first bit of Pro Tan to my back--reluctantly. We've never been
a real "touchy" sort of family, so between that and
the fact that application of tanning agents is a pretty wierd
activity anyway, I couldn't blame him for his lack of enthusiasm.
He performed the function adequately, however, and was relieved
that his wife was there the next day to help me with my tanning
process. Thursday was similar to Wednesday, with some visiting,
relaxing, and eating. More of my parents' friends wanted to
see me, and the next thing I knew, we were going out to dinner
again. It's tough to eat out the week of a contest, but my mother
decided on a little restaurant in New Wilmington, where the
food was "home cooked", and they could make me something
without any salt. In the meantime, I was waiting for her to
start offering me bowls of salted nuts or pretzels or something.
I was wondering if she really did know more about bodybuilding
competition than she let on, and she was working for the competition
to prevent me from winning. Hmmm.... Thursday
evening, my brother's wife returned, and she was much more comfortable
with this bodybuilding stuff, having been involved with it through
the former boyfriend of one of her best friends. She helped
me with my Pro Tan, after which I went through my mandatories
for her and my brother. She was appropriately critical, which
was good, while he just looked on curiously. After that, I practiced
my routine, getting a few laughs at the right moments. When
I finished for the second time, Randy got up to do his version.
He is a big guy, my size actually, but his body composition
is significantly different, needless to say. His lack of hardness
and color only accentuated his twisting and turning imitations
of front double biceps to a serratus shot to a twisted rear
double biceps shot and so on. In fact, of course, he wasn't
nearly that accurate, but he was funny as hell. Friday,
I opted to forego visiting with my parents, who were too busy
at work anyway, and instead stopped by a couple of places in
the Pittsburgh area to visit an anesthetist who works with us
in Ecuador, and also to stop and visit my Aunt, Uncle and cousins.
John, the anesthetist, ended up coming to the contest on Saturday
with his wife and kids, which was a great show of support. At
my cousins' house, I was conned into doing my routine, after
which her 7 and 8 year old sons donned their speedo and bathing
trunks and proceeded to try and imitate my contortions for their
mother and grandparents. They were especially fascinated with
my pectoral bouncing and abdominal rolling--you have to see
the routine to know what I'm talking about. I left for my drug
test, apologizing profusely to my cousin in advance for the
torment she might go through with her kids and their new found
entertainment. Interestingly, their imitation was remarkably
similar to my younger brother's imitation....I was starting
to worry about how my routine looked to the untrained eye. Saturday
came soon enough. I headed into town early to help a friend
put some color on his back, since his wife (about 8 months pregnant)
didn't join him for the weekend. We went to the Auditorium for
the contestants' meeting, and just hung out. While sitting there,
a friend from high school, whom I hadn't seen in at least 10
years, but who had called me the week before when she saw my
name in a medical providers' handbook (she works in "Claims"
for a health care insurance company) showed up. We'd talked
and I told her about the contest. She'd heard about my bodybuilding
at our 20th high school reunion, which I'd missed several weeks
prior. I was impressed that she showed up to check out the contest.
When my parents finally arrived, they also brought two women
who are friends of my mother, neighbors, and served to cheer
me on during prejudging in clear, resounding voices. What a
rush! There were
five guys in my class, but it seemed to me that it was between
me and another guy for the top spot. I wasn't certain, of course,
but I felt like I was in the running. And this was the first
time I'd ever competed that I felt like I actually could win.
That can be good or bad. On the side of good, I felt somewhat
greater confidence, hitting my poses a little harder, and energized
by the voices shouting my name. Prejudging seemed to go well,
and I was in the middle position--until the last two poses.
That was a touch of reality, and probably a good thing so that
I wasn't completely shocked when I didn't win. Oh, well, I guess
I gave it away. Finals went rapidly, with a strict control on
the time limit of routines: 60 seconds. I snuck my 72 second
routine under the wire, explaining to the sound people that
my routine actually had a beginning and an end, and if they
stopped me at 60 seconds I'd be facing the back wall scratching
my head or something like that. They let me slide... My parents
and friends were very encouraging as they left to get some dinner...never
to return until after the awards were distributed. Not that
that had any effect on the outcome. I won best poser, which
I was excited about, and then when it came down to 1st and 2nd
place, the other guy, Harold, and I sort of huddled backstage
waiting for the announcement of runner-up. My name was called.
I congratulated him and went out to get my trophy. I was happy
and disappointed at the same time, which is a wierd feeling.
I had improved from the year before, and I had been judged fairly--Harold
was sharper than I was, which is saying a fair bit, since I
think I was as sharp as I'd ever been. I was bigger, by about
30 pounds, and taller too (height class was tall, over 5'8"...Harold
was about 168, maybe 5'9", I am 6'1", around 200 lbs.)
I was missing that "paper-thin skin" thing...which
he had. I will figure it out by next year! And that's
what I told my parents when they reappeared as we were all leaving
the auditorium. They'd gotten delayed at the restaurant they
went to. When I told them how it came out, my father commented
on the sharpness of the other competitor, which I'd seen as
well. And as I said the words, "...next year", my
mother looked at me, deflated, and queried, "Next year??" It's just a phase, Mom... |
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