Society’s stare

4-27-14

Just came back from check-in with my coach and while it was a bit harsh, it was in good heart. I’m progressing well, making advances and seeing changes in my body that are on point for my goals. I’m holding weight in some areas but with minor adjustments and a positive attitude we decided to set our goals high and set up my plan in lue of me qualifying for nationals. BIG HUGE compliment that she thinks I’ll win the title and head to Team U, so I’ll take the criticism as a way of her showing love. She has the right goals for me, high and reasonable. While at times I question her, its due to my insecurities about being too small to belong on stage, not because of her plan for me. I’m learning to deal with my anxiety’s and focus on the process and trusting it with my heart. While my coach, many in my competing community and I are pleased with my progress, I’ve noticed that as I am leaning down the stares from on lookers are on the rise. As I become closer and closer to my stage debut, the public’s eyes seem to glare harder and harder, making me more and more anxious questioning their thoughts. Why as a society, we tend to keep focus on the things out of the norm? Why as humans do we drift towards other humans that lead a different type of lifestyle and whether in efforts of praise or criticism do we not think twice about commenting?

Back day in the gym, and its a day of pride for me. My favorite workout and also one of my strongest. Whether rowing or doing wide grip pull-down, I can handle generous weight or high volume training with control. Even with my left hand being as bad as it is, I can push through some exercises that would out do men. I take vast pride in my strength, and I’m confident in my form. Not that I’m boasting, but considering there are days where opening a door is cumbersome, to pull down 160 pounds makes me feel glorious. While lifting I keep to myself, challenging the weight at hand and focusing on muscle contraction. I set my weight up and get to work, only drifting momentarily tighten the grip on my hand strap. But I have noticed something As the weeks pass…a change…a shift. Before, gym goers would ask to work in with me or try to take equipment I was on if I went to grab my water but as my body has progressed, the interrupts have degressed…noticably. Not many people talk to me now. Once in a while Ill get some babbling but from what one of the trainers told me the other week, the look of focus may fear people. “top that Tina with the fact that you’re lifting more than some guys, you may deter people from talking to you.” I was kind of shocked by the audacity of his statement. I’m not huge. Honestly. I’m a pipsqueek compared to many of the competitors but I can lift and with control. I hadn’t really taken in his statement to value until Friday when I went to do a pull down and the guy next to me was doing the same. As we began our set almost at the same rate, he looked at me with this insulting glare, reracked and went higher. I went on and did my sets, but as the weight got higher the look of disgust drifting my way got stronger. I normally wouldn’t pay attention but that feeling when someone keeps watching you was disturbing my focus. On the 4th set I racked it to 175 and there was an audible arrogant sigh, a look and he walked away. I don’t do these things on purpose. Shit I lift what I can at an appropriate amount and force. I’m not going to dumb down my exercise to save a dudes ego. I will never ever forget doing chest day with my boy Brendan at WOW and this guy who I never saw before got off the bench next to me and told me flat-out fuck you and walked away after I out did him on weight. I was appalled at the audacity of him actually cursing at me. Brendan then grabbed my arm and was like “don’t even think about it T.” because my response wasn’t going to be of laughter like it is now. It’s amusing to me how much ego is thrown around the gym vs how much people can actually safely do, especially in front of the opposite sex. But when weights are put on the female and the tables are turned, it is apparently insulting to out lift another guy even when I really don’t give a rats ass what they are doing next to me. So I deserved getting cursed at bc I can control a heavier weight? Society places these idealistic views upon how women should interact in public… quiet, reserved, put together, feminine and gentle but let’s face it the only place 
I’m going to curtsey is when I’m in the squat rack. Why should I or any woman have to endure such blatant arrogance that is given to us when we break the norm? Now to shock or surprise is one thing, but to insult? Should it not bother me or distract me…yes. But seeing as that I’m not flaunting my abilities in the gym nor am I looking for the attention of any opinion, especially one with a negative connotation, why do people feel the need to make such a racket? People take it so personally when an alpha female, whether strong-minded or bodied steps through…but why? Why get the stares of disgust when im not provoking it?

 And it’s not only from the men…I’ve noticed it from women too. I call it the “pssshhh” face. We all know that duck like, head swag hip flaunt thing girls do when they have an attitude towards something. (and don’t even pretend to not know what I’m talking about because I know there’s a meme out there mimicking that exact pose) As females, we instinctually, no matter if you notice it or not, desire to feel attractive. So why on earth would we criticise another woman’s view on their own idea of beauty?  It’s a shame that anyone that sticks out of the norm, whether model-esque or muscular, gets chastised for their appearance by their fellow female while we should all be motivating one another. Instead criticism ensues when there’s any sort of “competition” in the room, when majority of the time there’s no rivalry to be had, it’s only imagined. I don’t walk around the gym in short shorts and a bra top like “hey look at my muscles bitches!” so I can’t seem to comprehend why lately I’m actually getting POINTED AT by other women. Yeah pointed at, like a freak show. Why because my hard work is finally showing off? I think it gets me more amped up that females would do this…just due to the fact that women should be empowering each other not judging. And trust me I’m not being narcosistic…when I say pointing I mean that they are doing so with disgust on their faces. It’s a shame that instead of looking at beauty in a wide spectrum, some (not all) women judge me for the veins I have while lifting or the weight I push as being something to make fun of or slander.

Like I said prior, I’m not huge but as I begin to cut the optical illusion of my mass becomes more obvious, so I seem bigger to the untrained eye. I am enjoying witnessing the changes in my physique, seeing the past 20 months of grueling work begin to come together as I prepare to get on stage. It gives me motivation to focus on my diet, when waking up and looking in the mirror I get to see striations that maybe weren’t there 2 weeks ago. In the privacy of my own home, I’m comfortable and happy. Even with progress photos I take for social media, I don’t mind showing off my hard work as long as it’s not viewed in any sexual connotation. I take a risk, yes, by posting a photo but it’s under my terms and not everyone is going to comment negatively on a photo. I don’t see people’s reactions, if negative, when they see my bicep progress in an update, so I don’t mind it. But I’m developing a bit of social anxiety as I become leaner. I guess it’s due to the reactions I’ve gotten from people, and while some are extremely motivating as humans we tend to hyper focus if someone says a negative even when the other 99 comments are positive. I hear “don’t get bigger T.” “Starting to push the limits Tina.” “Steroids much?” “Don’t grow a dick”…the vernacular that some people spit makes me nauseous. Who gives the right to a stranger or friend to say such negativity when I haven’t ever asked for their opinion? I get it, some people don’t have filters nor manners, seeming like neanderthals with tongues laden in biased opinions. But to what degree do we as society have to put up with such slander? So I’m a woman with a little muscle…if you don’t like it, don’t comment. Remember that pre-school lesson “if you have nothing nice to say…don’t say anything at all?” There are times where I cover up completely, even when its warm out, just so I don’t see people’s reactions. I just dont want to deal with the stares or the wtf type look, especially from the older crowd. And the worst part about all of this is that I’m so proud of my hard work and the months of effort I’ve put into carving out my own view of my masterpiece. I enjoy seeing my shoulders and back become carved out, my quads begin to feather and my vascularity come through, and it’s a shame people can’t appreciate my happiness and hard work. And I’m not disregarding the multitude of positive comments I get, hell that motivates me. But there are times that I feel shunned by the “norm” because of my decision to enjoy more muscle.

I think as body builders we stick out from society because of not only our looks but our dedication to our bodies. There will always be commentary, especially geared towards the women just because it isn’t a common practice. Bikini girls are viewed as hot little bunnies with tight bodies, fitness girls are exuberant and energetically fit, figure girls are more graceful and statuesque on stage and then there are us…the physique and body building women. We are more substantial under the lights. We are thicker and broader. We have the stigma attached to us that the outside world tends to throw around to justify our hard work. Everyone who steps on that stage works hard, some more than others but we all push our bodies past limits. It doesn’t matter what class or category you chose to be in, we all bust our asses to put on those suits. So why do I hear so much criticism about the physique and body building categories rather than some of the other ones? Society’s narrow view and what is thrown into our minds through the media makes for a biased opinion. Of course at some point we all judge someone. Even the kindest of soul is at some point going to pass an opinion around about someone’s phsyical attributes. But here in lies the question…Why are there such haters against people trying to better themselves physically? Sounds like a stupid question right? But it’s actually a deep rooted answer. Yes let’s hate on female hard bodies because of a simple intimidation factor when in reality they should be viewed as every other woman making an effort to shape and mold the outer being they believe is beautiful. Whether it be to get on stage in a two piece or rock an evening gown or strut your stuff in a pair of tight jeans, women of any shape or size trying to improve their bodies shouldnt be criticised. have I passed judgement at some point, yup. Like I said, we are all guilty at some point. But in the future, catching our behavior and making sure we open our view points to all forms of beauty is the important thing. Whether you disagree with the practice o my sport or not, doesnt give you the right to point at or make fun of the months of blood sweat and tears I have sacrificed in hopes of getting my procard some day. I love the way I’m turning out, and that in itself should show beauty, through confidence.

I know it shouldn’t bother me. That I should disregard the negatives and be elated with all the motivation and inspiration I receive from my supporters, the people who inspire me to keep going in the first place. But there’s always that side of me that gets aggrevated by the simplicity in people’s minds about who I aim to be. I won’t apologize for my physical aspirations any longer. I am done justifying my own sense of strength and beauty to the biased voice.  I am through trying to please society’s narrow views while making my own confidence obsolete. We put so much… pressure on women to look and act in a certain manner and when you decide not to try and please the masses, criticism ensues. My physical appearance mirrors my inner strength, making my confidence and appreciation for the hard work I put in and out of the gym valuable to me. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. .. that’s why I have it permanently inked on me. Be proud of your unique qualities and grateful for the individual beauty you possess. Whether body building, soul sculpting, inner molding or mind shaping, any way of improving youself shouldn’t be judged by society, even if it’s outside of the norm. We shouldn’t pass stares at the people who show an outstanding amount of dedication to their passions, but rather celebrate their ways of life. You may not agree with their idea of beauty, but appreciate what it takes to get there…the journey and effort to improve their own view of attraction and elegance. I may not be what the many of the population views as physically attractive, but my strength is nothing short of beautiful.

Bringing me to my knees

Injured; Something I am, even at times that I may not want to accept it. Human; A term I hate to accept. Freightened; a word I despise using but reality of being human and injured brings out the fear. Coping; a mechanism that I’m learning to use instead of ignoring the circumstance. Stubborn; the word that describes my will to deal with all the symptoms listed above and the ability to prevail.

This morning I woke up and stretched a sigh with soreness. I looked down at my lean physique and smiled because every morning I’m seeing more and more progress as the weeks muster on. I shook the cob webs and with a little pep in my step hopped down the stairs to start my day. But before I could reach the bottom of the stairs, my harsh reality struck again and my past came into the forefront to head my once positive day. Third step from the bottom floor and my left knee gave out…boom. Down I went, hitting not only the floor but a low. As I sat there in shock and sharp pain, the negative thoughts began to flood my momentary happiness.

It had been 2 months since my last issue with my injured limb and I have to admit with all the cardio I’ve been doing, I had become careless to the fate the doctors once gave me. I haven’t been wrapping it during my cardio sessions and stretching it in the morning like I should be doing. I used to get up in the morning and limp around, not being able to stand straight for a few minutes but since I had begun to feel better due to my chiropractic visits, I disregarded my normal regiment. Stupid on my part I know and the effects of my ignorance paid off with a big heaping of pain this morning. I know better, I should know better considering I have rehabbed myself mentally, emotionally and physically back from this injury but I ignorantly ignored my knowledge and dismissed the work needed with time and training excuses. I put it off because in my mind I was healing through other forms of therapy but when you train as hard and heavy as I do, the risk factors are increased 10 fold. As a trainer and body builder enthusiast, I should have known better and the punishment for me not thinking is more than just a physical pain.

My injury itself is more than just a physical ailment, it can be crippling to my mindset as well. I used to throw myself into the gym, yell and scream through the physical pain I was in, torturing my body to prove nothing could break me. I zoned into a place so kept with anger and bitterness that the meer approach of people in a certain tone could have set me off. I was hurt not only by my body’s cry but by the fact that the one thing I loved more than anything, running, was taken away from me. While I’ve moved past those feelings of disdain for my path, the negative reality flashes to me in times just like these. Most days I feel superhuman, using my physical disabilities as a motivation rather than a catalyst into a negative mindset, but on days where even simple function can’t be met, my heart becomes pained again. Living with the reality that one day, my athleticism will get the best of me is a hard pill to swallow and like I have done for the past 2 months, I tend to stuff it away until my body decides it has had enough. Yes I train weight properly, astute to my range of motion capabilities and making sure my form is at its peak but many times I throw aside the after care that NEEDS to be involved with my routine due to some excuse that I throw in. And now I lay here with an ice pack on my knee, unable to walk properly let alone teach my classes or train properly all because of my ignorance. (I’m shaking my head as I’m writing this, mentally reprimanding myself) 

I needed to get out on my lunch break today to clear my head and breath in the fresh spring air. I tend to lock myself away in moments like these, reminiscing about things that I shouldnt be…which ends with me throwing myself into the iron and potentially hurting myself more. To avoid that fate, I got out for a drive and stop to write out my thoughts about it. Am I crazy? Well slightly just by meer fact that I’m refusing to give up on my dream even with all I have against me…but here’s a little secret about the tough Titan, I write ALL THE TIME. Poetry, notes, letters….it helps keep me in line and visualize my thought patterns…see things on an exterior note. As I wrote down how I felt, I realized how guilt driven it was. Words with these rings of negativity about not being what I imagine just because of one fallen morning, filled the stark white paper and as I reread them out loud the realization of how easy it was for me to fall as flat in my head as I did this morning on the floor came into fruition. I’m a motivator. It’s what I do and here I am worried about not getting to the stage because of a small instance? I was reacting on the pain I was physically in to drive my emotional and mental state; that fall bringing me to my knees in many sense. I imagine success as perfection…and how obtainable is that?

Its lethargic to know that I’m growing even if halted at times by my own past. I’m learning ways to plow over my mental obstacles and defeat the entrapment of fear. I can’t explain to you how hard it is some days to know that in the future, my fate will involve my athletic career ending due to my past stupidity, but at the same time it’s refreshing to know that I still have the tenacity in me to compete in what I love. There’s this will in me that won’t allow what doctors say to stop me, even though at times it drives me scared shitless. But I’m an athlete at heart. It’s who I am, what I live by, the lifestyle is me. So I’ll find ways to work through it and prevail…but my Achilles heel is my mindset and being realistic that I’m not superhuman. Lesson learned. I need to get back on my therapy grime and be more realistic to my injuries. Follow through with what I need to and not jump ahead of myself when I think all is perfectly running.

Word to the wise, preparation is the key to success. Prevent the problem as much as possible instead of finding a solution once it occurs.

If I have to be dealt with this hand, I might as well make sure I have the dealer beat.

The Pressure of Prep

4-14-14

Update:

There’s not much to say other than “It’s time to get shredded.” Got my orders from boss lady and its time to kick up the cardio and be a lean mean fighting machine. I have 15 pounds to go before I hit the stage and I have 9 weeks to do it in. The last week I’ll shed about 5 pounds of water, so essentially I have a little over a pound a week to lose before I make my stage debut. Diet has been made more strict, I’m now doing fasted cardio every morning and supplementation has been upped. HERE WE GO!

Reality:

You know you’re in prep when your normal routine of order and sanity is COMPLETELY out of wack. Spending 20+ hours a week in a gym and at least 7 hours a week on food prep can take time away from functioning like a normal human being. (and let’s not forget…I work at least 50 hours a week…yeah put that freakin equation together and the sum is “HOLY HELL when does she take time to pee?”) My apartment look like its been shot at and hit, laundry and dishes are piled high, truck is a mess, unfinished to do lists are scattered throughout my home, bathroom looks like Barbie went wacko jacko with hair supplies… (breath in, breath out woooosaaahhhh) I like things in order but with all that I have to balance on my own outside of training, it’s not easy to keep up let alone keep track. This is when I know time is ticking and it’s easy to get swept in with the pressure of it all.

Admittance:

I must admit, I screwed up on diet this past weekend. It’s not like I ran out on a fast food mind altering binge and ate an 8 piece bucket, pile drove a white castle 50 sack and gorged on ring dings but I over ate my prep food due to hunger and stress induced anxiety…not IDEAL for how many weeks out I am. To many this would seem like no big deal, but to me it was a sign of weakness…as we have learned something I don’t handle well at all. It was a combination of things…partly due to people’s bullshit and the other half, the craziness of coming home to my world being in shambles. It’s funny because training wise this time around I’m a freakin animal, straight up beastly. (Yesterday I was nailing 255 on squats and repping 200 on curtsey squats…with one meal in me! )There are days when I ever surprise myself when last prep around this time, while I went hard, it’s not even comparable to this time around. My focus while in my iron sanctuary is spot on. Weights are like my weapons, spearing out my self doubts and crushing my stressors. While I HATE cardio, I’m still making sure it gets in, even if I’m cursing under my breath the entire time. When I’m away from my house I’m dead straight on every aspect of my training and diet. Boom. But then I get home and lately my diet has been the mind fuck, which in the past has been spot on. I’m usually starving due to my long days and pair that with the anxiety of not having my life on point, and it throws me into a stupor. And the funny thing is that I didn’t even realize how much I ate throughout the day until I went to put the dishes in the dishwasher and take out the trash…jesus. 3 quest bars, ounces upon ounces of chicken and fish, nuts…I mean things normal people would be like “dude stfu, no big deal” but its a huge deal when you’re trying to come in at 6% body fat in 9 weeks.

Solution:

After I woke up and shook the cob webs yesterday, I sat for about 3 hours and legit relaxed. While I had things to do, the thought of wasting the beautiful day ignoring it doing my normal crazed Sunday routine, kept me staring at the ceiling. Just taking a breath of the sweet fresh air as I laid in my 900 thread count sheets was so refreshing and worth the minutes spent doing absolutely nothing. I had spent the past week in a craze, trying to button everything up and keep my life in order…making myself over eat and stress out. When I finally sat and thought about it, what was the point? If a load of laundry doesn’t get done by the exact day I planned it to or if a hater tries to set me off, why the hell am I going to get so worked up? I lay upset with myself that I allowed these outside influences and my hunger to outwit my tenacity. As I turned over and cuddled against my body pillows I thought back to what my coach told me the day before… “You’re going to take this Tina. This is all yours. I’m not worried”…I just kept repeating it over and over. I have to believe in it as much as I want it to happen. I’m getting over my fear of being small now I just have to conquer this food dependency issue that keeps rearing its head from my past. God damn disorder. So I stretched and began jotting down the ways I could take on the issue head on and put the moves in motion. I made signs to visually remind me against following my hunger, I reached out to some of my friends, drew out a countdown to the show and I got to work on my schedule to figure out how to fit in all that I need to. I have the support system to help so I now will make more of an effort to reach out. I keep most things to myself, so being proactive and speaking up about when I need advice or help is something that I really have to work on to beat this. I don’t have it in me to be weak. Do I have weakness sure, but look up Titan in the dictionary and nothing about being a wimp is defined in that statement. I got my nickname for a reason, and while I may have to deal with being of the flesh, I entend to live up to the name I was given. Preparation is key for success…so with all that I do plan out in my life, this is just another way to drive me towards my goal.

Future:

I sit here today, less vascular and feeling like a blob even with fasted cardio this morning. I’m human and have to deal with feelings, even though I hate to admit it. At 9 weeks out I need to kick it up, drink some of that jungle juice and get my diet back. One day can really do its damage. It’s not easy and anyone who says it is, isn’t working hard enough. I’ve got 2 hands and while I’m strong, I’ve got a lot of weight to juggle around. I have visual reminders to go home to and my friends are vocally reminding me to stay in check, not because I cant do it by myself, but because I’m taking every measure necessary to give me a win. I want to walk off that stage saying I tried my damndest to win this, using the tools I’ve gained through experience to aid me in obtaining that trophy. I have so many potentials in this chapter that Im enticed to read forward and see what is in store…Im not going to let the winds of my past turn back the pages to Chapter 6.