The Sacrifice for Success

31 days…

I can’t believe how fast things time is flying by and how much I still have to do! Trying to play catch up and juggle everything to prepare for a show is extremely difficult when you live my lifestyle. I’m working whenever I can to be able to afford all the costs that come with preparing for a show and let me tell you, it isn’t cheap. Unfortunately while my pocket needs the dough, my body needs the rest more so I’m fighting a constant battle trying to stay alert and active when I’m only in taking 1200 calories 4 days a week. It’s not easy on the mindset looking at your bank account dwindling along with your energies and stressing about it all doesn’t help at times when you are trying to rest, so I had to come to a decision. A big one at that…something that my pride took a big hit on. Something that has made me realize how badly I do want that pro card, and that I’ll literally do things that I never thought I would to obtain it.

When I reflect on the past 19 months, one thing comes to mind: my will to do whatever it takes to succeed. Traveling on this long and bumpy road, I’ve learned a great deal about myself and how much I can actually withstand when it comes down the to nitty-gritty. I’ve put my body and mind through hell and back and now that I’m a meer month away from the stage, the reality that it’s all going to come into fruition is a bit intimidating. While most bodybuilders would look at my time as only an investment in a show, this mission to me holds much more meaning. This one night to me could turn a new chapter in my life if I advance to nationals. Even if I don’t do well at Team U, to prove to myself that I can compete against the best of the best and train my body to its limits is a feat many wouldn’t understand unless you have had to measure against the seemingly impenetrable odds.

If you have been following my quest over the past few months, you have seen insight into the life of a girl who turned her life around to beat the odds faced against her. I take much pride in the little that I have acquired over the years because I have worked extremely hard for everything that I own. I don’t have luxuries or nice things but what I have holds my merit to me because I worked for the possessions I retain. I view the lessons I have learned as luxuries and the foresight that I hold as a treasure because with those tools I can conquer the world and more. But there’s one custody that I hold near and dear to my heart; one extravagance that I treasure more than I could imagine…my motorcycle. I dreamt for years of riding and watched my friends go on cruising trips while I played passenger or sat on the side lines. I had been saving for years, 20$ here 10$ there, towards the vision of owning a freedom only given to the adventurous and rich. Then last year I finally was able to purchase one, after a lucky find from a friend. After I took it home on a rainy Sunday, I sat and looked out my window for what seemed like hours; smile on my face that radiated my happiness. I may not have had much but I FINALLY obtained something I thought only could happen to lucky people.

With cost racking up fast (hotel rooms, make up artist, tanning, coach costs, suit, supplements, registration) my anxieties are through the roof. I have to be extra strict on budget to make sure everything is smooth sailing and that if I do win this show, I have the means to go to nationals. With clientele slow due to the season and my energies in the tank, I had to prepare myself for the reality set forth with competing costs, what can I sacrifice to make sure I’m set with regular bills and medical costs let alone the staggering costs to compete? Considering I’m well versed in giving up things, I can purge expenses easily. Cut things out here and there…sucks but I’ve grown accustomed to it. But as the show has creeped closer and closer, even with the efforts of my fundraiser, I had to swallow my pride and make a decision…if I was willing to sell the one dream I had worked so diligently for already for the other dream I’m trying to with hold. Over the past few days, I have mulled over the choice if my one item of pride was worth putting for sale for another moment of stature. It’s a risk. There’s no guarantee that I’m going to do well in these shows. So was the loss of my prize possession merited without a concrete result to look forward to?

Yes…the money I’m investing in myself is worth it.

While it’s a hard pill to swallow, the truth of the matter is I’ve already achieved the dream of owning a bike…so guess what?! I know I can do it again. I haven’t snagged the vision of my pro card yet, so giving up something when I already have paid and collected my dues for it has worth. I’m not banking on me getting my pro card this year, BUT to be able to compete and work towards that goal of bettering myself with each show all while living a bit more comfortably is a relief my cortisol levels are dieing for. I have been living with so much stress that its hindering my progress during this trek, attributing to my lack of sleep and belly fat, so to breathe a sigh to the softening of mental weight may actually help me to lose physical weight.

I seriously believe that once my muscles mature a bit more, I have what it takes to be a leader and pro in this sport. I have the drive and ambitions to do what it takes from many different angles to grasp that title. I haven’t been given reliance that many I met in the industry have, so my viewpoint about dedication is skewed to a different velocity. I think that when you’re given the choice between aptitude and attitude to circumstances you begin to realize the importance of more. My eagerness and hunger for success is hard to match and while I do have my moments of weakness, there’s something in me that just won’t quit. It’s not that I’m cockier or deserve it over others but more so the fact that I’m proving to God and myself that over the years, my confidence has grown due to circumstances and how I’ve handled them. I’ve been so blessed over these past months to have such a wonderful support system made up of people who genuinely care about my ambitions and it has made me a stronger individual because of it; so making decisions like this one was easier knowing the backing I have to help hold me strong. Will I miss the bike? Of course! That freedom of the air flowing over your body and the power of two wheels is such a release but the satisfaction of living my dream is much more freeing.

If you were given a choice between giving up one fantasy for another, would you risk it? And If you were never in that situation, would you truly be able to grasp the appreciation in eventually obtaining the dream. Not everyone should have to sacrifice to acknowledge caliber of greatness but whether it is forfeiting time, pinching pennies or cutting corners what would you pass aside for a chance at destiny? And would the character you have grown to have surpass itself when victory arrived…would you be willing to expose it for more? Makes you think…what is it all valued at? Mine apparently, is held at a pretty high gauge and whether you agree with my risk taking or not (due to your own experiences or core views) is my decision note worthy? While I’m final on the succumption, have you pondered the thought of true sacrifice to be a daredevil to your dreams?

The Face of an Angel

Heart of a Lion

Champion Spirit

Blessed with the will to survive it.

Faith in the Weight/Wait

He replied, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”
Matthew 17:20

Faith. It’s something we hold onto in efforts to trust in the process we are following. It helps to keep us grounded when our world feels scattered and in disarray. It aids in holding our sanity together at times when the worry can drive us mad. It allows courage in moments of fear and strength in seconds of peril. It is an object not of matter but one that has significant matter. And whether you apply it to a high power, an object or an idea, having faith when belief in the outcome is skewed, can hold the path together to further follow through on.

It’s been a trying week. I was crippled with a horrible cold and it was nothing short of a mind fuck to allow myself to rest. I’m 43 days out from my stage debut and my nerves are shot with anticipation and anxiety. I’m so amped on knocking this out of the park and being at my best, that any slip up throws my mind into a frenzy. (it’s the perfectionist in me) I fought against myself last week so hard, attempting to train, that I ended up making myself worse; not being able to catch my breath and feeling uncontrollably dizzy. I attempted cardio to sweat out the demon, but it only made the monster consume me more. I knew deep down that I needed to rest but my stubbornness is so overpowering at times that I once again didn’t follow my intuitions until Saturday, when I said enough is enough and I stayed on the couch. I was planning on doing legs that day even though I had woken up feeling a wreck but as the day progressed and I only got worse after work, I called up a special man in my life for some advice. He coaxed me into leaving the gym parking lot (where I stayed for close to half hr arguing with myself if I should go in or not) and just help me to realize the things that I already knew, rest and relax to get better. My anxiety had been up since I had eaten carbs preparing for leg day so I made sure my diet was super strict for the rest of the day while I laid on the couch. I sat there and thought about my fears of failure due to the roadblocks that I’ve hit during this prep or about how badly I want this. I looked down at my transforming body and worried that all of my hard work would go to waste due to me feeling the guilt of resting…feeling like I was being lazy. Lazy…me…yea right. I fell asleep that night, mind racing but flooded with physical exhaustion, dreaming about my fight and beating the odds that always seemed stacked against me.

I woke up Sunday morning, still sick but ready to get back in the game. I had to keep going even if it meant on a minimal pace. So I jumped on my treadmill to begin fasted cardio and just took it at an easier speed so I could breath better. About 15 minutes into my workout, a message popped up on my phone from a man who I rarely speak with anymore, my father, instantly making my heart rate jump even higher than the cardio had already made it. It read that my cousin wasn’t on this earth any longer due to his long battle with inner demons. I was in shock and having trouble catching my breath, but this time it had nothing to do with my cough. I began to walk in a daze, unable to grasp the fact that my cousin, who had always been encouraging to my goals, had given up on the faith in his own. He was a young man dealing with an addiction but had a heart unlike many people could ever hold. He was an outstanding and kind person who loved his son to the moon and back but unfortunately his mind was wrapped up in a deadly substance that ultimately consumed him. As the tears fell onto the track that my numb feet walked over, I couldn’t help but choke on the fact that he had given up all hope and instead, given into the demon. I kept recollecting my negative thoughts the day before, about my own idea of failure and how I am often tempted to go back to my old ways not because of my lack in strength but because of my lack of trust in the process that sometimes can be overwhelming. I thought of myself as one of the lucky ones as I walked out my calories, stubborn as I am to not give up. There are times were my faith wavers but I have been able to somehow beat the entrapment of temptation and continue on, even through moments of weakness. Only a short time ago, he had messaged me on Facebook to encourage me and wonder when we were going camping again. He believed in not only my strength but where I had come from, noting my other cousin, Bri, and how we both were overcoming our past addictions with success. As I write this now, tears of memories stream down my face…an emotion I am NOT FAMILIAR with but somehow it comforts the pain. I was lucky enough to find something, bodybuilding and my faith in it and God, to keep me out of the darkness that my cousin unfortunately got consumed with. As I recollect now about how frantic I was about one a few days that were off canter, I realize how minimal it all was compared to what my family member had been battling with.

I think as athletes we dedicate ourselves and our goals to a different measure than most. We are more regimented, precise, hyperfocused and driven. We plan things out to a different level and don’t accept failure well, even though it ends up driving us to train harder for the next competition. While every human bleeds red, we as overactive achievers pump iron and tenacity through our veins as well, making sure that every move we make outside our training walls accounts towards the end result, victory. It carries into our personal lives, making any goal that we set a challenge. So when we are faced with more hurdles or a heavier weight (figuratively or mentally), majority of us train harder to overcome it. This has been my mindset in times where my faith has wavered. That if I just viewed the elements that I was dealing with like a weight I needed to train to lift to, I could get past it. God gave me the battles to learn from, the strength to overcome it and the opportunities to grow using the tools I had acquired and my basic instincts as a performance athlete to withstand and challenge against. My faith in myself, while at times the size of a mustard seed, still remains and so will my love for what I do even at times where failure seems like the only option. This is who I am, what I live for…not necessarily just this goal but the reality that my battles bring forth a stronger faith in my life process and the goal of living a more fruitful life keeps my faith intact, no matter what mission I’m training for.

To my cousin Danny: May you watch over me and hold my hand through times where my fear of failure tries to strong-arm me. May I honor your passing by never giving up on this dream I have or on anything I eventually set forth to do. May I hold close my faith and trust more in the process to realize that there is always a way out. May I remember your kindness when my past bitterness bucks its negative head, enticing me to pick up the flask again and say fuck this. May I be all the things I dream of, even at a smaller magnitude and care about people the same way you did when I make it to the top (where God plans me to head).

With the sickness of my cold and doubt behind me, I take on the gym and my dreams again. While I’m sure there will always be times that a bit of negativity streams into the light of my path, I know that the stubbornness I hold character in will guide me through. I am blessed. I am worthy. I am faithful. I am alive and willing to hold on for more