EPILOGUE

Two weeks is a long time in the body building and blog world. This is the first chance I've had to actually just sit and process what has happened over the last fortnight. After the first week  I couldn't figure out how to write it so a) I wouldn't look like a whiney little bitch and b).....I wouldn't look like a whiney little bitch. To say the outcome of Queensland titles wasn't what I expected is the understatment of the year, but my own lack of grace was what suprised me the most.

Monday that week I was on cloud nine. Holidays! I havn't had a holiday in 18mths. We'd had glorious weather.....I was dreaming of doing my cardio romping around the Burleigh Headland, kicking back on the beach with my latest Yoga Journal....We'd HAD glorious weather. Well, if it didn't turn to shit and I instead spent hours on the wind trainer riding to nowhere watching dvd's and wafting around my house feeling hungry. The only thing that gave me morbid pleasure was watching Poh's Kitchen and reading vegan recipes.

Training was so intense. I don't really like to do anything in a hurry if I'm honest, so punching out 30rep sets was my own private little hell. On wednesday I made it to rep 27 on the last set and out of nowhere, the eyes welled up, the bottom lip trembled. The weights were dropped and my hands covered my face. It wasn't just a little 'moment'. It was a full blown urge to howl like a wounded animal. How embaressing. Not just for me~ poor Adam was stood to my side trying to give reassuring pats to my shoulder. Thursday I had to move my treatment room to my new digs at Mermaid and I can honestly say~ THAT day was the worst I ever had. Thanks to Charlie Brown, the moving of the heavy stuff was easily done. What wasn't was doing serveral laps of my old room (3m x 3m) wondering where to start first and wandering back and forth to my car carrying one item at a time, like a lost child. Even though it was all done by 3:30pm, I felt like I'd run a marathon. I crawled into bed at 4 and passed out. I'd set my alarm for 6 so I could have my last meal (120gm of chicken...probably should have just kept sleeping!) then slid straight back into bed and stayed there until 5am the next day. It must have been just what I needed because I woke up and got on with friday as if thursday never happened. I did have the most bizaar dream, though! GT told me that you know when you're really on the bare bones of it when your idea of a wet dream only involves food. I dreamt that my new clinic was actually the front room of an old lady's house. An old lady who cooked the most amazing cakes, biscuits, slices etc~ everything looked like it was from the CWA's greatest recipe collection. I walked around the house looking at all the yummy goodness wondering what I could devour first and finally decided on choc~caramel slice.....but when I picked it up, it was covered in a fine layer of mould! ALL OF IT WAS COVERED IN MOULD!! BASTARD! Even in my dreams I was being denied.

Saturday was registration day and I was nervous to be driving up there by myself~ not entirely confident of my motor skills. So believe it or not, I went to Mrs Flannery's and shopped up a storm on organic goodies and spent the whole morning in the kitchen preparing my own special blend of Granola and vegan springroll filling for my feast the next day. I find cooking so soothing~ and, no, I wasn't tempted to eat any of it. Something about all the smells and just being able to chop, weigh, grate and measure. I was happy to wait for the next day because I knew it would all be amazing! I'd also had to start dehydrating which actually wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. Until the next day of course! That's when shit got desperate! So Kylie met me at registration and we decided just to go for it. I registered in Opens, skipping Novice all together. Then~ it was time to tan....holy snappin' ducks. By the time we finished I was blacker than a monkey's arse and it looked like someone had been murdered in Tiff's bathroom. But I must admit, it really bought out the blue in my eyes and the whiteness of my teeth....

Sunday. D-DAY. I woke at my usual 5am and lay there for an hour, going over my posing in my head. I rolled out of bed, so excited to eat my homemade Granola and burnt the shit out of my chicken. I flicked on the kettle and remembered I wasn't allowed to drink anything. Suddenly, I'm dying of thirst and am keenly aware of the white, milky film my spit has lined my inner lips with. Lucky I woke up so early because I'm moving like I'm underwater. My hair and make up take for ever and I'm only just applying the final Drag Queen touches when I hear my Dad buzzing to be let in. As we drive, he yammers away and I stare absent mindedly out the window....scaring the shit out of anyone who looks in my window as we pass. I really do look quite the spectical.  We arrive and as instructed I find a spot in the backstage area where I can lie on the floor with my legs elevated. Suddenly Kylie is standing above me and it's game on! Time to suit up, retouch the tan, apply the glossy body gel and pump the muscles up. By the time I have to pump, I've got a serious wobble in my legs. Kylie hands me a few red snakes and I shove them in the gob....spit really is quite necessary to break your food down. It's quite difficult when you don't have any and the result was my cheeks full of jube lolly, me sucking madly and waving 3kg weights around my head trying to pump my shoulders....in 6 inch heels. We get the call up and my legs are shaking so badly now~ I know no amount of sugar is going to help. Then I'm out there under stage lights, but the lights in the auditorium are up and I can see all my friends and family and hear them shouting out to me. I give my Dad a wink~ and I'm ON. The shaking never stops but the heart stops hammering and it's all over before I know it. The smile on Kylies' face makes my day and then I get to see everyone who has travelled to see me for my 5 minutes of fame. I feel amazing. I'm so sure I've got it in the bag. Kylie says we need to get something fatty and high in salt for lunch. I order a roast vegetable and houlmi burger with chips...my mind freaking out at putting that into my body~ four months of hard dieting habits about to be smashed into the hemisphere. I manage half of the chips but eat around the bread, some habits I don't actually want to break.

We go back to the club and what feels like an eternity later get called back up on stage. Third place is announced first. Not my number. Second place is announced. MY number! I know I should be stoked. But I'm not. Not even close. I thought I was on that plane to Sydney for sure. I staggered from the stage clutching my $5 trophy (the only trophy I've ever won, mind you! Ingrate that I am) looked at Kylie and said, "What the fuck just happened?". No explination really needed. I didn't win. Now before you all go ape shit at my diva antics, please understand~ I thought I was going in a competition where the beauty of sculpted muscle was required and admired. I was wrong. The last thing Kylie said to me was that I should really think about going to Sydney anyway. I sat in silence, ignoring my ballistic phone methodically eating my way through sesame snaps and spicy broadbeans trying to process what happened. By the time we got home I had already decided I was going to Sydney anyway. If I was going to come second~ it would be to someone who had worked as hard as me. I couldn't really cope with the thought that I had put my heart and soul into something for four months to have it end like that and pretend to be happy about it.

So Sunday night I ate, drank and was merry~ happy in the company of those I love best. Monday morning I was up at 5am for my cardio, back on the greens and protein. I was also back at work and I think now it may have been better for me the week before to work just a little bit. Mind you, I'd had a serious feed and I swear the calories lasted until thursday before I was once again walking around the gym, head thrown back trying to stem the flow of tears.

Before I knew it, it was friday. Time to dehydrate and get on the plane to the big smoke to show them what this chick could do! I was incredibly nervous but still confident of my chances. I said to Adam all I wanted to be able to do was to text Kylie afterward and and ask if she knew of a good place to go for cheesecake in New York after I'd competed in Arnold. Little did I know.

Preparation was pretty much carbon copy to the previous week, except this time I had fallen asleep with my hands across my belly....and woken up with two perfect handprints across my belly! Doh! With some deft patch work, it was good as new and we headed to the venue for 9:15am ready to start 10am. We sat in the auditorium and waited. And waited. And waited. Due to a horror smash by the airport, several competitors and a judge were caught in traffic. And so began the longest day of my life! Once the venue started to fill, I started to freak out and needed to find some quiet. Adam was amazing as my backstage bitch. Seriously~ I was so lucky to have him. There were lots of people there all by themselves so I'm really grateful he was there. I lost my stage number and almost lost my mind~luckily it was easily replaced.. As we were pumping up I started to feel a lot better. THIS I knew how to do. We took our places backstage and this time we got to really work it and strike our poses several times. I loved it! The line up was amazing. Still, I felt like my chances were good for a place in the top three.

After lunch things went from the sublime, to hideous. Thanks to our late start we had outstayed our welcome at the club and spent the next few hours being shuffled from pillar to post around various rooms backstage. Adam and I were nervously watching the clock thinking about our flight home. Five o'clock came and I was no where near being called back up on stage. We reschedualed our flight to the last available...to Brisbane. But  it turns out that was smart because the mother of all storms ripped through the Goldy and we probably would have been diverted anyway. We did spend a glorious 40minutes stuffed into the coaches box with every other remaining competitor in the full force of the afternoon sun. I especially liked the part when one dopey cow decided to reapply her hairspray in the already stifling room. We finally got our call up. No quater turns required apparently, just "You, you and you. 1.2.3" Thanks for coming. I suppose when I was bitching about getting called out second, I should have really taken the time to think about how it would feel to not hear my number at all. I didn't have the time then, but I've all the time in the world now. Yeah. Feels a bit shit really.

No time for wasting, I bolted from the stage, kicked off my heels and chucked on my trackie over my costume and raced to the airport in time to check in and literally sit for 10mins before our plane arrived. Me and Adz, sat there shellshocked, the disappointment wrapped around us like a cloak. "How do you feel?", "Yeah ok, how do you feel?" "Mmmm. Ok. I'd really like to not be in this costume anymore." The second the fasten seatbelt sign clicked of I locked myself in the bathroom with a packet of wetwipes and using my skills of contortionism, wriggled out of the cozzie.

The relief of hitting my street marred only be the fact it was in total darkness. No power. Awesome. No hot shower. Thank God I have the best Dad in the world and he came and got me so I could shower before bed. I finally kissed my pillow at 11:45pm. The longest day of my life.

Sunday, the sun was shining. The sky was blue. I spent the morning doing exactly what I love~ riding my bike to the markets, eating a delicious breakfast at my favourite cafe, shouting at my friends from their front lawns to see if they wanna come play at the beach with me. Picnic lunch with yummies made by yours truely, BBQ dinner and drinks on the deck. Perfect.

It's taken me until today to realise that all of the crazy shit I've done~ I've done it because I thought it would be fun. Caring always about the journey more than my performance. Scuplting completely changed that. For the first time I really cared about winning. Maybe it's because for the first time, I felt that I could. I felt foolish for picking a sport with so many variables when I am such a clarified person. I don't think my personality is suited to the whims of the judges. Now I appreciate all of the amazing things the experience has revealed to me. Firstly, I never would have dreamed I would have so many people in my corner. I am going to hold close all of the kind words of encouragment for the rest of my days. I know now, I can do anything if I decide I want to.  ANYTHING.

Which brings me back to my most favourite question from the universe~ WHAT WOULD YOU ATTEMPT IF YOU KNEW YOU COULDN'T FAIL?
....Well? What would you?

1 WEEK OUT~ IT'S THE BEGINNING OF THE END.....OR IS IT JUST THE BEGINNING?

DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUN! Well the moment has finally arrived and I really just can't believe it. How did four months of my life pass by in such a whirlwind when I have literally done nowt but train, work, eat, sleep....then get up and do it all over again?! But I'm excited! I can't wait for it all to be over... but I'm also dreaming of the opportunities that may arise from Sunday's outcome. If I win~ I get a trip to Sydney. So, my sweet lil Mexicans south of the border there~ get ready my friends. I have every intention of winning and I want to see your shining faces! If I win Nationals...well, then shit gets hectic. It means a trip to the States to compete in the Arnie classic. Who amoungst us wouldn't jump at that chance? Maybe the starving, tired and emotionally frazzled little creature writing this blog wouldn't. But then again, maybe I would! Never say never, ever.

Last week was tough. I cried. A lot. All I could think in my mind was "Get yourself to saturday afternoon and then you can drop the bundle". Holidays...sweet sweet holidays. Everyone said to me I wouldn't know what to do with myself after 3 days. Yah well, 3 days in and my dance card is full. No rest for us wicked ones, let me tell you. There is waxing to be inflicted, nails to be attached, lashes to be extended, tan to be sprayed....oh yeah~ and 3hrs of training per day to fit in around my meal times too. I'm really very busy, darlings. Hate to think what I'm going to be like when I get married.

LET'S TALK FOOD. Last week the unthinkable happened. Remember the song and dance I made about having to go to "no carb" days? So no oats, protein shakes and going to 5meals of egg whites/ white fish and greens. Just imagine my horror at being told to....take away the greens as well. Fuck. Me. Right there, I think I realised my own dedication to my cause. I never dreamed I'd be doing this. Motivating factor? Not fitting my costume bums. I didn't realise it at the time, but they were made way too narrow through the crotch. I was devastated when Kylie said that I wasn't going to come in, in that area...really only hearing "it's never going to fit" and thinking to myself, "you havn't worked hard enough". It wrecked me. Happy days, I borrowed a gorgeous little number from Kylie today and the difference is incredible. I feel a lot more comfortable in my posing too, knowing it's going to stay put as I move around. So I may not be the prettiest of the Mermaids, but secretly, there was always a hot pink little Fairy in me, just dieing to be unleashed.

This week the diet has changed again. I braced myself for a whole week of pure protein, but only had to maintain that sunday/monday and again thursday/friday. It's amazing though how every time something gets taken away from me, I feel like I also gain. No greens meant the re~introduction of an egg yolk to my omlette. I tip in the egg whites then crack the egg whole into the middle of them. Once cooked I have the joy of eating AALLLLL around it, and saving the yolkie goodness for last. I have also started lacing my coffee with cinnamon and....wait for it~ cayenne pepper. I learnt that from my sister and I just like to imagine it's actually a mexican hot chocolate. Sometimes it works. Not really.

Training has been tough. Adam really punished me today. We swapped to doing high reps and 4 sets, circuit style training. Smashing the upper body only leaving my legs alone except for the stairmaster and static contractions of a night time. The first time I did those I think my flatmate, Sam thought I was putting myself at serious risk. I lay on the couch trying to watch the Chronicles of Narnia whilsts timing my quad contractions, not aware that to Sam I looked like I was going rigid for 30second intervals. Bless, she thought I was having seizures!

I have discovered something about myself and I'm not sure if I like it. If  I spent more time practicing yoga I  would discover the  art of just "being". Instead, in compensation for not being able to eat whatever I want, whenever I want, I appear to have become quite adept at online shopping. Seriously, I had to block myself from the Victoria's Secret page and now I'm stalking the mailman waiting for my package to arrive. But like all good junkies, I have a new fix. Reading recipes. I'm not kidding. I am now The Happy Cow's biggest fan and have spent hours trawling the site reading mouthwatering vegan and raw food recipes. I'm addicted to SBS Food Safari and ABC's foreign food shows. I think Jamie Oliver is my new crush, but sorry, no~ I draw the line at watching Hughie....his style of food offends my very senses.Yes. There is something very wrong with me.

 
So minor little touches of crazy aside (and the constant urge to cry at inappropriate times) I feel great. I am determined to enjoy this week. Look at how far I've come! I'm proud of myself and maybe for the first time in  my life, I feel no shame in saying that. It isn't about being up myself. I know the sacrifices I have made. I know how hard I had to work to get here. I know every other chick who is going to be up on that stage with me has done the same. And there you have it. The doors are swinging on this Last Chance Saloon. I want to walk through them content in the knowledge that I set myself a task, and regardless of the outcome on Sunday, I gave it 110%. The rest, my lovelies, is in the hands of the judges.

2 WEEKS OUT~ MY LIFE, LESS ORDINARY

Where do I start. I've kind of put off writing this today because I know it's going to be really hard. Like the Sunday that I lost my mind and ate everything that wasn't nailed down and didn't want to write about that either. Last week took me places I never thought I'd go....the darkest recesses of my mind....the Spin class studio....a dreamland that looked remarkably like Willy Wonka's Chocolate factory but only carrot coleslaw was available. I don't even  like carrots that much.
I spent an inordinate amount of time sat on my shower floor, feeling the water beat down on my back. Not wanting to turn off the heat that was soothing me to my bones. I feel like as much as the week before I was clinging everyone to me, last week I just wanted to be by myself and find comfort in my routine. I'm sick of talking about my body. Sick of talking about what I'm eating (or rather not eating). Sick of seeing my veins but not my abs. Sick of constantly cooking and eating and not feeling fullfilled. Sick of taking pills and powders. Sick of it all really.
Then on wednesday I had a truely life defining moment. I had been hungry ALL day. By now I'm actually over eating~ it's nothing pleasurable, just something I have to do every three hours. But wednesday I'd gotten up at 4:30am to get to the gym in time for a spin class because my legs were so sore from mondays weight session that I knew I wouldn't be tough enough on myself to do a proper sprint session. I got to 3pm, my usual crash and burn time and sat on my couch staring into space knowing I still had hours of massage to go. I got into my car and because I know exactly what each of my parents have in their pantries at any given time, drove to my dads house where I knew he had a stash of dried fruit for his morning muslie. I ate 6 dried apricots and 4 dates. Yes, that many~ I counted them as they went in. Did I walk straight into the bathroom to sick them back up? Sure I did. Then I caught myself in the mirror. I thought, "If I do this, if I actually make myself vomit, it will change everything that I thought I was doing this competition for." I did not sign up for this level of mindfuck. Granted one of my own making, so then also my choice to leave the apricots and dates where they were (and I made it through my afternoon feeling normal for the first time in days) and elect instead to do an extra hour of cardio that night before bed.
Every friday I massage a gorgeous elderly man who loves to clip articles from the paper for me that he thinks I might find of special interest. A couple of weeks ago he had a piece on women who get into body building/ sculpting later in life. There was a 29 year old, 36 and 50 year old. All amazing looking women who had worked extremely hard to achieve their goals. But the 36 year old said something that horrified me. She said her husband eats what she eats, except with carbs (ie: healthily). Her kids get an entirely different menu altogther....but  sometimes, as a special treat she allows herself to eat the crust off their toast.....If I EVER say anything so retarded as that ~ please let one of you love me enough to put a bullet in my brain.
 I think my friend Bridget said it best this morning when she said that we often shy away from our own success. Like we are comfortable with putting in all the hard work but then get freaked out by the reward and just when we're on the brink of greatness....we drop the egg and can't put Humpty back together again. Also this morning from one of my facebook friends :
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. Your playing small does not serve the world.....As we let our light shine we unconciously give others permission to do the same, we are liberated from our own fear." Am I afraid? I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it like that. But why else would I be so close to walking away from something that has taken 16 weeks of my life to prepare for? So now I pray for courage. Not the absence of fear or despair~ but the strength to conquer them.
This is the week of "lasts" for me. I can feel very excited about that! My last legs session today. Happy days!!! Adam was all like,"Are you ready for this?" and I was all bluff and bravado, "Hell yeah, show me whatchoo got!" Jesus wept~ I forsee another morning spent with the Spin class freaks on wednesday because my legs are already siezing and refusing to cooperate with what the rest of my body is doing. Seriously, am I the only one who thinks people who LOVE RPM are a different breed? Crazy people sitting in the dark under blue lights, listening to banging tunes, riding their bikes to nowhere....Unfortunately I also have to spend daily quality time with the stairmaster for the next two weeks. C'est la vie if you want an arse you can crack nuts on.
Things that have given me the utmost pleasure this week...my make up trial. I could have felt those brushes tickle my face for hours. I've booked my nails, my tan and in liu of any birthday celebration on wednesday, I'm going for a facial, back massage and haircut tomorrow. My skin is tingling just at the thought of these precious little luxuries. I just hope I don't sleep through the whole bloody lot!
The sunday night once it's all done and dusted I'm having everyone back to my place for a feast. The theme~ THE LAST SUPPER! If you could bring just one meal that is your absolute favourite, what would it be? Anyone who brings white fish and salad greens gets a free punch in the face. For myself, I've decided on prawns, oysters kilpatrick, anything my sister makes and as my desert request......ah mah God~ it could possibly be the promise of these that gets me through the next two weeks ~medjool dates stuffed with fresh pineapple and dipped in dark chocolate...chilled. Hell to the yeah, I've put some thought into this!

This is also my last week of work as I am giving myself the week before comp off to focus, and prepare for what comes next. Can you believe I've not had longer than 3days off in a row since April last year. I'm tired!  Lots of changes to my business are in the pipeline, because amazingly~ I don't expect to know what to do with myself once I'm all done. New challenges on the horizon, all of them positive though.
A lot of my friends have been asking for photos. I'm sorry but I'm going to make you all wait until the actual comp day. Kinda like a biggest looser 'reveal'. I appreciate how hard everyone who competes in this industry works and they absolutely have every right to want to show off the fruits of their labours, but I am not the kind of person who wants a profile pic of their abs. I way prefer the one from that time I got hardout gastro from kissing that guy and blew out the vein that made my entire eyeball blood red for a week. Again, so hard to see why I'm still single....
So my lovelies, my wild ride is almost at the end. It's a bitter sweet feeling. This week I'd like my thank you shout out to go to Tiff & Phoebs. All of the crazy shit I've done since we've known eachother, you guys have been my constant quiet support. Whenever I feel myself faltering, I feel your steadying hands at my back, ready to catch me if I fall. Always there until the last in your subltle little ways~ thank you my darlings.  I couldn't have done this without you.

3 WEEKS OUT~ SHIT THIS COZZIE IS PRETTY SMALL, HEY!

Is it too late to change my mind? Yeah. It is. Last week was.....nothing short of hideous. I expected my energy levels to drop, but I never thought I'd feel so mind numbingly tired. Three o'clock seems to be the witching hour. Almost as if a switch gets flipped and functioning time is over. My limbs feel like they're made of lead, like I'm moving under water. I do get my second wind, but it's amazing how things you would never ordinarily do, become lifesaving tricks of the trade. Now I make sure I take my high potency vitamin B tablet after lunch. I do rely heavily on caffeine tablets and coffee. It no longer matters what time I have the last of these, by 8pm I'm totally rooted and nothing is going to keep me out of bed and snoring. I can't believe I've gone from having a cup of coffee every couple of days as a special treat to this!
I'm wrapped that my training has changed a little though. I was beginning to feel like I was living at the gym. No more post~weights cardio sessions to have to allow for! It wasn't unusual for me to be at the gym for three hours. My shower at home has never looked so good! I think I've only used it a handful of times in the last few months. So now I do 1hr of cardio on waking and before eating. My weights session generally takes me 45mins~ 1hr, and finally half and hour cardio before bed. Sooooo much better! Also last friday saw the last NRL team worked on for the season so I know I won't have at least 2 late night trips home from Brissie anymore either. Good timing! I think now is the time to really dig deep and decide how tough I think I am. I've had a sore inside my left nostril for the last two weeks that won't heal and my poor left eye is almost completely devoid of lashes (a life long stress impulse to pull out my lashes in full flight~ thank God I'll be wearing falsies on the day!) I'm trying to keep calm and believe everyone who says my legs and bum WILL come in. But just quietly I'M FREAKING THE FUCK RIGHT OUT! My bikini bums are TINY!!!! We use this stuff on the day called "bikini bite" which literally sticks your costume to you like glue, but I swear to God, I will loose my shit if I end up with an atomic wedgie while on stage.
It hasn't been all torture and sooks though. Saturday I got what's called a "refeeder" day. My muscles were starting to look a little flat from being carb depleted so as a super pleasent suprise, Kylie asked me to carb load to see if I cut in on the Sunday. All clean sources (oats, sweet potato and quinoa)....but sweet sweet carbs. Friday night I collapsed into bed at 8, so excited that when I woke up I would get to a relatively normal breakfast fro the first time in 7days. Bizaarly I woke at 10pm thinking it was time to get up for my walk....wondering why the hell it was so dark.I staggered around for a while looking for my cardio trainers before realising I was about 7hrs ahead of schedual. I fell back into bed with every muscle aching.  And starving. For the first time I was SO hungry I was uncomfortable and couldn't go back to sleep. To have to get up and go for an hour walk before breakfast was torture~ but I think a suffering completely of my own devise, because it has never bothered me before. I tried to make them last. But they just tasted SO good. So GOOD. To be honest I pity anyone who has to share a meal time with me at the moment. It's nothing short of a disgusting display of raw eating power....Training my back, I felt like She~Ra Princess of Power. I'm pretty sure I freaked a few people out at the gym with my general state of awesomeness....obviously got my sense of humour back as well after being such a sooky la la all week. Did I pull up leaner? I dunno. I don't think I can look at myself objectively anymore. I'm honestly putting as much energy into quieting the negative mind chatter as I possibly can. I do have faith in Kylie's opinion though, and she thought it worked so I'm doing the same again this week (Yusssss! Roll on saturday!). I'd like to put a special shout out to all the beautiful peeps who gave me encouragement on sunday when I was having yet another "moment". Those of you from the Coast know it was hot as a Nuns' and pure summer hit us over night. All I wanted was something cold and refreshing...you know, like a giant gelato or something. NOT water. Over. It. But so many of my friends picked me up when I was down~ I hope I get to return the favour one day. Also a very special mention to my most awesome trainer, Adam. He's ridden the Kia rollercoaster from day one~ each tuesday I'm sure he's a little nervous about just what he's going to get. Last weeks session started with a few quiet tears and ended with a kick in the nuts. No really. It was a total accident, but I still feel very bad...even if we did giggle for ages about it. Sorry dude!
So this week I shall endevour to do my best to harden the fuck up. Nobody is holding a gun to my head over this. I know I'm going to be tired. But I promise not to whinge! "Self pity is the acid which burns holes in our own happiness." To infinity....AND BEYOND!

4 WEEKS OUT~ BUT WHO'S COUNTING?

Drum roll please! Last week I had my Bioscan and the results were pretty encouraging. 11% body fat and (thank heavens) NO loss of muscle mass. I'm still hoping to achieve 7% but only those more educated than I in the ways of this process will be able to say whether that will happen or not. All I know is my diet as of today is pretty freaking ordinary....if it's not white or green~ it ain't on the menu. Words cannot describe how happy I was to discover Woolies is stocking cartons of pure egg whites again. Standing in the frozen section clapping my hands and shouting, "SCORE!"....I really shouldn't be allowed out unsupervised at the minute LOL! Gone are my beloved morning oats and my much cherished protein shakes. It's amazing how something that was initially so gag~worthy becomes your most favourite meal of the day. I'm just so relieved to be heading into this final stage though, I really could be told to eat shit on toast and I wouldn't care. I just don't want to muck it up now with lack of discipline.
Those of you who see me on a regular basis know that I am a major fan of jumpsuits. I've got them in all different styles and I defy anyone to tell me that it is inappropriate for a 35year old to be rockin' out a Onesie. A side affect of a long and interesting life is growing old. No~one said anything about being obliged to grow up. So there. However.....it is now becoming apparent that my current lifestyle isn't convienienced by my choice of fashion. I mostly opperate on a one hour appointment schedual. My bladder, God love it, seems to be very happy with maintaining a 45minute rule. It's starting to become increasingly difficult to keep that certain sense of urgency from permiating the last 15minutes of each treatment. My poor clients! The last thing they see is me whipping the eye pillow off as I race for the door muttering they can take their time getting up as I'm frantically trying to un button/ zip/ lace whatever the hell I'm wearing. Sigh. It might be time to shelve my inner child until I no longer have to "Pee reeeeallllll bad!".
I actually hurt myself a little last week. I've started to concentrate on my leg shape a lot more, trying to get them to taper in. I've started using what I like to call the "Birthing" machine. For obvious reasons~ it's pretty much the most unflattering piece of equipment to use in the gym and can only be found in the "womens only" room, tucked against the stretch of wall that has no mirrors. You sit in it and either work your knees apart or together against weighted resistance. A clear indication that my brain is no longer firing on all cylinders, I began with abduction (knees apart) 57kgs...flipped the little knee pads and with no change to the weight tried to bring my knees together. There was a yelp at a frequency only dogs could hear and I knew straight away I'd done enough damage to make the rest of my week very uncomfortable. DAMMIT!!! I ruined my wednesday high intensity cardio~ the pain on push off trying to sprint uphill was so bad I only managed two reps before limping home. My two yoga classes were a case of finding my happy place and spending a lot of time in Down Dog. By friday mornings' sprint session I was almost affraid to try, but while it was certainly uncomfortable, it pulled up ok and although I spent a lot of time cupping my crotch, I got everything done. Needless to say today I was very mindful of what weight I was using!
I kind of felt a bit of spaced out anxiety this last week. There are other things in my life outside of comp that need my attention, but I feel like I've got a serious case of head-in-the-sanditis. I know they will all be waiting for me to deal with once it's all over with. I'm really not looking forward to it. However if this experience has taught me anything it's that "If nothing changes, nothing changes." Everything always works out for the best. I truely believe the universe never sets you up to fail. It's just that I don't like this feeling of there being a looming drama just waiting to unfold. For now I shall spend a lot more time in Warrior poses. "Warrior pose battles your inner weakness and win focus. You see that there is no war within you. You are on your own side, you are your own strength." Terri Guillimets.
I feel like I'm starting to pull my familiy and friends in tighter. I apologise just now if I seem a little clingy and needy! Not long now and I'll be back to my on the ball, lil Miss Independant self! It's a bit weird really too~ I'm finding I'm a tad obsessed with all things organic. Like everything that goes into my body is so clean, everything on the outside needs to be too. I've replaced all my skin and hair care with natural alternatives. My sunday morning ritual of going to the organic markets at Miami is absolutely the highlight of my week. Last sunday though, I felt for the first time I was being taken for a ride. $10.50 for four Lebanese cucumbers. WHAT THA FUCK! I'm sorry but that is ridiculous. Given the rate of knots I go through my greens, I think it might be time to reassess my shopping habits.....and head to Bunnings this sunday instead and bloody well grow my own!

So I guess all that's left to do now is stay in control.....focus....focus some more.....and keep my eye on that prize.

5 Weeks Out~ Serious Applicants need only Apply

Well my whole training regime feels like it's turned a huge corner. So much so, I feel it is necessary to place an advertisment for a "PUSH HER OUT OF BED~ER~ER". The applicant must be:

• Willing to be woken up at 5am every morning
• Strong enough to give me a heafty shove that will make me clear the bed instantly~ kinda like ripping off a bandaid. Failure to do so will result in a viscious tug~of~war for the sheets and a written warning.
• Have the skills of a Ninja to ward off any suprise snap kicks to the head from me in the unlikely event I can actually coordinate one. It is infact far more likely you'll have time to make yourself a cup of coffee before my toe could find it's way off the ground, but it pays to be prepared, you know what I'm sayin'?
• Be able to apply Deep Heat effectively and responsibly....don't make me remind you to wash your hands and don't touch your face~ your screams shall only be met with open disdain of your apparent incompetence.
• Be just enough of a hard bastard to ignore my whimpers and sooks, but caring enough to check my headphones are in the right ears (Did you know they actually make them left and right styles? So many questions answered, right there.) and my hoodie is sitting just right before pushing me out into the cold and dark for my cardio.

Salary is crap, as I can only afford to pay you in protein powder, but my bed is fabulous~ probably the best you'll ever sleep in and I have 1000 count sheets. I don't snore and I am so exhausted I can just about guarentee I won't even try to spoon let alone do the crocodile roll with the doona. Like the title says~ serious applicants need only apply. You can do so in writing either here or on my facebook page. Applications close midnight tomorrow~ he with the best shoving skills....wins.

These are the stairs of death.....this is the awesome view from the top. Reward enough, I think!

So it might come as some suprise to you all that, yes, I am infact single. I KNOW!... I wake up sometimes and think, "Shit. How the hell did I end up here by myself?".  Normally I don't even really mind, but just lately, a strong shoulder to lean on would come in pretty handy. I remember when I very first decided to do this and I rang one of my oldest, most loved friends to tell her.  Her reaction wasn't quite what I was expecting....there was a bit of silence....then a whisper, "Oh my God, you're  never  going to get a husband". Now before you all go crazy~ the woman has a point. When I'm not training, I'm working. When I'm not doing either of those, I'm eating or sleeping. I have no boobs left, I'm not great at maintaining a conversation for longer than 5 minutes, and physically, I'm going to be better at just about everything than a dude because as yet, I havn't lost my womanly powers of multitasking. Yeah~ now I don't think that sounds so flash, do you? I think my friend was more concerned that I was getting into bodybuilding, not understanding that sculpting is something different entirely. I think I went off on this tangent though to make the point that as I have been a chunky monkey, I have been a normal and healthy weight and now I am going to spend the next 5 weeks really taking my body to the limit~ I really don't think how you LOOK determines how someone feels about you. Do you agree or am I being naive? I don't think so. I'm blessed to have a tonne of awesome male friends who love their women and treat them like they're gold and I look to their example for inspiration....there is hope for me yet!
Anyhoo~ back to my training. Everybody has seen the Rocky movie where he sprints up the stairs and does a little cheer for himself when he gets to the top, hey? Wednesday saw the beginning of my stair and sprint training. I actually LOVE this kind of training. Three months of stationary bike and stairmaster was starting to wear thin. So I wednesday I practically flew up those stairs, cheering myself each and every time I made it to the top. For the first set of ten, anyway.  The second set I had a stitch, I was really sweaty, my legs felt like lead on the way up~ jelly on the way down....and all I could manage was a feeble "Yay me" arms flailing wildly around my head. By the time the next morning arrived I was in 7 different kinds of pain~ none of them were fixed by Deep Heat, scalding epsom baths or gentle rub outs. Friday Adam text me and said we were doing another session. I actually was having difficulty putting my heels down to walk, but didn't want to look like a total sook, so off we went again! It never ceases to amaze me that it doesn't matter how hard I'm sucking in the big ones~ I'll always find the energy to give lip...when will I learn?
I also started a course of Bikram yoga as my high intensity work out. I actually did a few classes a couple of years ago when I was training to do the half marathon and it was a huge mistake. I am a yoga instructor now, so I see the error of my ways, but at the time I didn't realise how hypermobile I was making my joints and overstretching my hami's lead to a tear which has ruined my running for ever. So it was with a bit of trepidation that I once again embarked on this furnaced experience. To be honest I am just craving the heat. Whilst the permanent chill in my feet and hands has subsided with the coming of spring, at night time I still feel the icy hands of winter splaying over my back and permiating my kidneys. The first time I went I had this crazy little Japanese guy who stood on the instructors box, clapping madly and barking instructions like a drill sargeant. This time I had a lovely more ethereal lady teacher who made me feel less like I was being abused. The first time I went was at the old studio, where the carpet was drenched with previous classes sweat and tears. The stench slapped me in the face and sucked away my breathe before the 37degree heat did. As I lay down trying to stifle my gag reflex I was also bizaarly aware of the fact that although it reeked....it was actually also kinda sexy....I blame the trapped pheremones in the carpet. The second time~ new studio, new hypoallergenic carpet and far less pong. And I loved it! It makes me think of when I was a kid and you'd lie in the sun and watch it dance behind your eyelids, hear your blood rushing through your veins, feel the heat work it's way to your bones. There is such a sense of calm when you have the opportunity to lay down and "listen to the warm". I'm also stoked that my sweat flows like water. I have kept up with taking the repulsive Super Greens and all my other little lotions and potions so I'm happy that my system is so clean, there is no acrid smell. Did you know also, that when you start to burn protein (ie:muscle!!!) you're sweat can start to smell like amonia? That's something you should be aware of and maybe it will help to understand that while low intensity cardio is painful and boring as hell, if you work too hard, you're only going to detriment all that other hard work you just did smashing yourself with weights in the gym!
Diet wise~ lets get serious. I am upping the anti on my no carb days and coping ok, I will start dropping out so much of the red (beef and roo) meat and even chicken (won't miss it~ sooooo over it) and stick to mostly egg whites and white fish. Maybe now is a good time to start warning people of my inevitable absent-mindedness. I'm usually totally on the ball, but lately I have started to forget stuff. I'm feeling incredibly time~poor. It's a bit stink really, when you feel harrassed by your own life! HAHA! Not long to go now, peeps. The hard part is just beginning, but I'm also deliciously aware that I am on the downhill slide. It's a bitter sweet feeling to be honest! Buuuuuuut ~ BRING IT! I'M IN IT TO WIN! Woooooop!  

6 Weeks Out~ Pass me a cup of concrete, please.

Holy crap~ feels like only yesterday I was writing "7 weeks out"!. Time flies when you're starving and delerious. Last wednesday saw the beginning of my NO CARB days. Give me strength, if by the end of the day someone had of said,"Kia, come out the back here, I've organised for someone to shoot you.", I would have gladly accepted. Seriously. I cannot believe how much difference 1/3 cup of oats can make to my day. In my defence I had a massive 48hrs before I'd even begun. I have a joke now that when it comes to working for the footy teams, I am the unit magnet. Tuesday night I had a job with the All Blacks and while I was stoked (yet totally professional, of course. I didn't gaze lovingly at him once.) to work on Sonny Bill, before the last 45min session was about to start I took the opportunity to dash to the loo. I came skipping back into the room to see what I can only describe as a man mountain wriggling out of his shorts. I stopped dead as he swung around to look at me. Brad Thorne. We took eachother in~ me peering up into the wild blue yonder, him bending over and still squinting to see my face. He shook his head, "I'm so sorry." I sighed and put my hands on my hips,"Didn't you get the memo?"...."?"...."Forwards are supposed to come at the start of the evening~ not last!" Lucky for me he is probably one of the nicest guys you ever want to meet. Still, I didn't even get home until 11 and had to be up at my usual 5am the next morning. High intensity cardio with no carbs actually felt pretty good. I don't really like to exercise with any food in my belly which all of my trainers have been horrified by. So I didn't really think it would be a big deal. Until I got to 3pm and felt like someone had flicked the 'powering down' switch and I still had 4hrs of massage to do. I dragged myself in my door at 8pm. Skulled a protein shake at 8:03pm. By 8:11 I was tucked in bed mouth wide open, eyes glued shut and punching out some serious Zzzz's. I noticed last week I kept waking up with pins and needles where I obviously been sleeping so heavily I hadn't moved for hours!
Then I got up on thursday and wondered what all the fuss was about. I must admit though, when I weighed myself on friday I had lost 1.2kg, so I guess the suffering is worth it....still think it was all in my head though because I've just done two no~carb days in a row and have pulled up fine.
There has been a few changes. I've called it a day on my own yoga business and now only work at My Health Yoga on thursdays. The offload of pressure has far outweighed any sense of failure I might have been harbouring. Yoga is always going to be there. I don't mind waiting just 6 more weeks to be able to focus on it properly. I'm enjoying teaching only two classes so much more, too. As far as what it means to my training, I can now dedicate my mornings to doing my own stuff and really get the most out of it without rushing. So I'm glad I made the decision.
In the gym I've started to not wear my headphones so much. For a couple of reasons. First, people talk to you more if you don't have your iPod blaring. Sometimes it great to have the aversion if you want to get in, do your shit and leave. But now I can relax a bit, I'm finding I'd like to converse with my fellow gym junkies. Some of them, anyway. After bitching about equipment hogs I noticed as I was on the cable fly a dude hovering to the side. I said I only had one more set and he shyly asked if we could share. I felt like the new kid at kindy! Sure! Finally~ someone wants to play with me! HAHA!
The second reason is my Implanon is getting really uncomfortable in my arm, and that's the side I wear my iPod on. With all the fat gone from my bicep area, the rod is starting to press into the muscle which is annoying. I'd get it removed but buggered if I'm going to do anything that's going to affect my hormones at this stage in my preparation.
I did such a massive leg session with Adam last week. I thought I was going to feel my sit bones break through my butt cheeks evey time I wanted to sit down. I love that pain, though....the kind that makes you question how bad you need to sit down to pee. One of my friends loves to say to me,"Kia, pain is weakness leaving the body". Heh~ I love that saying too now.
I'm finding I'm starting to plan my lifestyle beyond comp. How would I like to eat and train differently. I think straight after I'm done I'm going to do a serious detox. Although I'm doing this all as organically as I can, this much protein and supplimentation can't be good for you in the long run. Then I think I'll adopt a whole and raw food approach. I'd like to say I'll go totally vegan like my sissi, because I just love the food. But I think it might also be nice not to have any restrictions for a while. Ease my way into it, like. As for training, I've got rugby on my mind. After doing something so insular for so long, it would be mad to have the team atmosphere. I loved playing when I was in England. I totally sucked at it, but I don't care! I'm just as fast as I ever was and that's what counts when you're the one with the ball! This week I finally get to up the anti on my cardio and incorporate two sprint/ stair sessions. My thighs, bless them, whilst being massively muscley.....are still MASSIVE. Hooray for all that long distance cycling I used to do! Tomorrow I start with the Miami stairs....those of you from these parts know what I'm talkin' about. The hill of death. Not sure just how enthusiastic I'll be by this time tomorrow night about this change in my programme!

7 WEEKS OUT~ THE PRETTIEST OF THE MERMAIDS

I picked up my costume last tuesday, and what can I say......I'm in LOVE! If this competition is about who gets the be the prettiest of the Mermaids~ I will win~ NO DOUBT. Of course my arse will have to halve in size to fit it.....and I don't even want to talk about the front bum. On wednesday we had a family dinner that I proudly showed it off at, and my Uncle Bilby pipes up over all the cooing and ahhing, "Well, I hope it's not out of turn of me to say that I hope you've had a brazillian?" Oh my fucking God! HAHAHAHAHA! I didn't even know he knew what that was. After we'd all picked up our jaws and stopped pissing ourselves laughing, I assured him that as much as it goes against every fibre of my being to have my hair ripped out en masse via hot wax, yes~ I did indeed have the nether region under control.
And so the visionary begins. I'm sure everyone at the gym thinks I'm just that chick who really digs her own music because I spend a lot of time double fist pumping when I'm on the stationary bike, but really that's me practicing my acceptance speech for when I win.....yussssss!
Last week marked the start of fat burners. Lipolyze....where HAVE you been all my life. It's not essentially that I think it's been a great fat burner, more a saviour of my mind. It is an AWESOME appetite suppressant. I realise that doesn't seem to be a normal thing to say~ but what I'm doing is not normal. I have to eat every three hours and sometimes my work schedual doesn't factor to that. My metabolism is so well trained now that I feel a minute beyond the magic three hours induces gut wrenching nausea. Last week it felt so good to be able to reach that mark, eat and be satisfied, and get on with my day. I had a new edge of serenity, and if that's all the magic pills give me, I don't mind. The rest I can do for myself.
Last week I embarked on a mission to make my cardio more fun. Walking on the stairmaster for 45mins has moved from being a torturous challenge to murder on my knee. So with the help of Marcus Burgess (Heart Start Fitness) and my sissi, I filmed a 30min High Intensity Muay Thai session. Thank you so much for all the comments you guys made on Facebook about it~ I laughed so much at some of your comments! The support I'm getting from my friends has been phenomenal and I'd really like you all to know how much it can make a difference to my day. Man I miss hitting the pads! I'm gutted it hurts my hands so much for days after~ it just makes working too uncomfortable unfortunately.
In posing this week I finally perfected my 'relaxed' pose. It's pretty amazing watching how from week to week there are tiny little changes that mean I have to tilt my bum here now, drop an elbow there. I felt a total lightness of being this week. I've suddenly become more aware of the space around my body. Sometimes I feel like I could float away on the breeze, evaporate into the ether.... Of course that never happens when I'm driving. I've been told I morph into a different (slightly more angry) creature when I'm behind the wheel and it seems to be getting worse. Lucky I'm alone in my car most of the time because I don't think even the hardest sailor would like to hear what I have to say to most of my co~drivers. I've found playing the dulcet tones of Renee Geyer and Missy Higgins really helps tame the urge to grab a tyre iron and beat the living shit out of other peoples' bonnets at the lights. Other than that, I am a vision of tranquility.
I also started incorporating 100reps of back extensions to each workout to help taper in my lower back. Can I just say (the previous paragraph not withstanding), it takes a lot to get my back up but if those hackles rise......My gym is home to so many different walks of life and I'm not gonna lie~ there are quite a few knuckle draggers amoungst them. I don't know who said it (but someone did) "Manners don't cost". Do you think I want to be on the hyperextender burning the small of my back? Dudes who hog equipement for their ridiculous super sets do not get the right to squat down in front of my face and rudely demand to know how long I'm going to be. Especially on a low carb day. Especially on rep # 39. I might be 5'2", but if you get in my face~ you better be prepared to go the distance. That is all.
I had a hugely busy week at work which I love, love, love. The universe really does provide~ all you have to do is ask, be present, be thankful. I love that I can be at the end of my day, every muscle, tendon and ligament on fire; feeling like I can't even shape my words let alone bat an eyelash and have my last client just be....amazing. From somewhere you reach inside and find this source that you can draw up from your very roots and radiate out. My job is such a beautiful transferance of energy. I know the source isn't me. It's my clients'.  If I didn't have this job, this beautiful life with these beautiful people surrounding me~ I probably would have given up long ago. So saturday rolled around and I was spent. But happy. I don't really get people who are always chasing the quick buck. What's wrong with working for what you've got?
So I felt absolute pleasure spending sunday in retail bliss! My mission? To find a pair of jeans that fit my arse and my thighs at the same time. The difference a week makes! Last week I was moaning to my flatmate about my inability to do that because I must have been between sizes. She said to just go and get a pair of 'jeggings' (leggings that look like jeans). I gasped in horror. Do I look like I just stepped off the last train from Beenleigh? After slating the shit out of 'pajama jeans' on Facebook, I could not possibly invest in the unofficial uniform of our Bogan nation. So a few hours and about 50 pairs of jeans later....success! It's the simple things in life, I tell ya!
Seven.Weeks.Out. Holy Guacamole! Is that the flicker of a tiny light I see at the end of this long and winding tunnel???

8 Weeks Out~There's a hooker in New York & she wants her shoes back!

Eight weeks out.....ah mah God~ it's starting to feel a lot more real and I'm starting to get a little nervous! I was really feeling the burn of being eight weeks in as well. Quite emotionally spanked and if I'm honest, I felt like my brain was fried. Wednesday was a true hump day. On the tuesday I had a friend from my gym come in for a massage who said I looked like I'd really leaned up in the last week. I nodded and made the right noises, but in my mind I was think she was just being nice to me. Wednesday I went in for posing practice and all I could see was every little roll waving at me in the mirror. Kylie assured me I'm ahead of schedual, but again, in my mind I questioned how she could think so. I honestly felt like both girls were lying to me and getting up on stage was going to be the worst, most humiliating thing I could ever do. Once a tank~ always a tank. I went around to my Da's and said, "I just don't feel right. I know I'm being silly, but I can't help it!". Suddenly eight weeks didn't seem like long enough. But then thursday came and the world was a different place and I was ok again. I just don't understand why my life isn't one long, glorious skinny day right now....? Can I just say though, the negative things I write aren't the be all and end all. I am also having a tonne of fun and this four months is going to shape the rest of my life the nothing else has. I just want to make sure that I don't paint a through rose coloured glasses picture because in all honesty~ I'm on a total rollercoaster ride at the moment. But I'm ok in myself, because I'm aware of all these things and am getting through them one bit of crazy at a time.
On the up side, I did go and get my shoes on tuesday night. I dragged Tiff along with me and our first port of call was the XXX shop on the highway at Mermaid. My mum reakons I could make friends with a lampshade if I'm left alone with it for long enough, so it should come as no suprise that on walking into the store I laid a beaming smile on the first dude I saw and asked to be directed to the shoes.....of course he didn't work there and was clearly distressed that I had made eye contact with him, let alone engaged in conversation. Woops (We also saw him at the Den so immediately labelled him creepy!) . Can I just say~ Myers shoe department~ please send your employees to sex shops to educate them in the finer points of customer service~ they shit all over the service standard you provide. XXX didn't have any shoes, but she was very attentative and even gave us a stash of free batteries ( and everyone knows you can never have too many spare batteries, right?). Having our pockets full and myself with a nozzle full of lube  (I was a bit over zealous in my sniff test of the strawberry variety), we headed up to the Den at Broady where once again we were met with a vision of exemplary customer service. Hallelujah~ they had my shoes. Stunning 6" platform perspex and silver! As I strutted around the shop with my yoga pants rolled up and my 'I love New York' hoodie, I felt every inch tha strippa~ gangsta styles!
Actually last week was MASSIVELY EXPENSIVE!!!! A RUNNING TALLY WOULD INCLUDE:

• Bikini: $320
• Stripper heels: $100
• New trainers: $120
• Supps: $300 (gotta love running out of everything at once!)
• Fat burners: $80 (yep~ it's time....)

I started with the fat burners today because I've plateaued over the last 2 weeks and remain on 13% body fat.
Thank heavens I worked 7 days last week! Seriously~ doesn't anyone want to sponno me? I promise I'll win and thank you in my acceptance speech!...No? Sigh. Back to selling unnecessary organs then.
I actually had a rad end to my week. The whole weekend spent with the Melbourne Storm. Knowing the furor I created when I said I'd step over my own mother to get to Carl Stefanovic (I still think he's totally hot), I'm reluctant to put it out there....but ladies~ two words: Bryan Norrie. SWOON! I'd even move to Melbourne and suffer it's ridiculous weather for that one. And the moment finally came when I got to use a line I've been cooking up for ages. One of the teams managers has waved me over in the shed before the game, " Kia, Kia~ I'm sorry but I've got to ask you. What do you do?" . Me, "Pardon? I'm a massage therapist." Der. "No, I mean.....this!" Waving hands in the general direction of my body. "Oh! You know what, yesterday I just woke up and DAMN! I looked like this!!!" Kakakakakakakaka! Gotta love a bit of muscle envy from a dude. I thought I was piss funny, anyway.
Today I enlisted the help of my sister and my friend Marcus, from Heart Start Fitness to spice up my training a little bit. I did just a half hour Muay Thai session with Marcus and my sis was patient enough to film it for me. Sooooo much fun. God I miss hitting the pads! I am black and blue but with a huge smile on my face. Life is good, peeps. I said right from the start that I would stop if I felt like this wasn't what I wanted. But it is. I might complain sometimes. I might have mini (or EPIC) meltdowns over ridiculous things. I might trail off and loose my train of thought mid sentence......
But I'm still me. Still working hard and trying to live my life with purpose and meaning. And if anyone needs any batteries.....HOLLAR!!!!

9 WEEKS OUT~ IT'S BEEN......EMOTIONAL.

Have you ever experienced that awkward moment when you realise you are the subject of the "Hot or Not" debate? It's a bit shit really. As I walked into the change rooms last week I overheard three girls talking, "Her veins are gross, man. Popping out all over the place!". "Yeah, but her arms and back look amazing...". Voices trail and eyes slide to the floor as I walk to the lockers. That's when I realise they're talking about me. Wow. My face starts to burn and I realise both statements are true. Over the last couple of weeks I've really started to cut in on my upper body. Everything ripples. I can see the muscle striation across my chest and deltoids. And yeah~ my back looks amazing. Buuuuut~ I have veins everywhere~ even across my belly. It's kinda gross and kinda cool at the same time. I'm very aware I'm loosing my Princess factor. Bra's with underwire have become a distant memory. In fact I reakon pretty soon I'll just whack a couple of bandaids over the nips and be done with it. Hmmmph. That local tit guy is looking better and better...freaky kneecap eyebrows and all. Or I could just suck it up and realise that when I started out with this journey, it had an element of the experiemental to it. I was curious, more than anything to see what transformations could be made. The extraordinary adaptability of the human body. So~ sticks and stones, Bitches. As one of the footy lads told me when I relayed the story, "Kia, Haters gonna hate". Cliche but true.
Not much really changed last week training wise. I smashed my legs so bad on monday I had to cancel sprint training on wednesday and they didn't come right until sunday....I actually think I may have a little tear cause they were incredibly tight right from the very first leg press today. Combined with a massive back sesh and Adams' "ABS OF DEATH" I had my first week long full body ache. Lots of work and a lot more posing practice, I guess it's to be expected. Posing is getting better as I practice more. Tomorrow night to cheer myself up I'm going to go get my shoes to wear on stage. A pair of hot perspex 6"heels that are going to give the illusion that I'm walking on air as I strut my stuff and strike my poses. Bizaarly such fashion wonders are also favoured by strippers and sex workers so if you see me hovering around The Den tomorrow I swear  I am only there for the footwear. I probably won't even look at the Black Rabbit 2011 or spend time in the edible undie aisle just so I can check out the flavours of fruits I havn't been able to eat for the last two months. Yep. Definately just getting the shoes.
If he's looking down on me, I hope my friend Taurean is getting a giggle out of this. He probably would have come with me to assist in shoe selection if I had have had the chance to ask him. Taurean passed away last friday morning from an accidental overdose. My heart just aches that his life ended so suddenly. So shockingly. I got that call at 8am but had a day so full of work I just went into autopilot. It wasn't until the very last client was done and I was alone in my car that the tears could come. Taurean was such a lot of things to so many different people. To our circle of friends he was our, "Bub". No matter how much of a pain in the arse he could be ( he used to call me at least once a month at 3 in the morning, just to let me know he was "having the best night EVER"), like all crazy beautifuls, he was a lovable rogue and he will be sadly missed. Anyone who fails to sympathize due to the circumstances of his death all I can say is don't you dare judge someone on their weaknesses. Until you have walked in their shoes, you have no idea what tortures another has suffered.
So maybe this weeks blog can be less about me and my petty little angsts about this situation I have created for myself and my body and more about realising you get one shot. One shot to make your statement, however petite or grande is your choice. To live a life where you can be proud of your efforts and know that if it all ended tomorrow, you gave it 110%.
In loving memory of my friend, Taurean Pevreal. The boy with the ocean for his eyes and the sun for his smile. I will look for you in the moon, love always, your Miss.

 

10 WEEKS OUT~ HIGH/ LOWS?

First lets get the stats in! Pretty darn happy with the way things are going if I do say so myself. I had my BioScan last wednesday and results are: Body Fat % is down to 13.6% from 14.9%, and lean muscle mass has gone up 1kg. High fives all around. If you'd like to imagine me doing a lil' dance right now, you may. I know the hard part is coming, I'm almost just wishing it was here already. Maybe I'm just getting addicted to the pain! I've got to say, the internal dialogue is starting to get a bit full on. There are times when my work load is intense and the thought of training literally brings tears to my eyes. I lie in bed after the alarm goes off and think,"Why can't I just sleep in today?". Because I'm committed to my goal, that's why. The only thing worse than the pain of training is the pain of regret. The roll out of bed is the hardest part over and done with. After that I've never regreted taking that first step. The best part of an arduous journey is looking back and smiling at how far you've managed to come. So I've compiled a list of comp prep high/ lows......speaking from personal experience, of course. If anyone finds this caper an absolute breeze, I'd really like to meet them....and play a game of 'smell the cheese'....

•  Doing a set so punishing you have to give the equipment a little bit of a cuddle before you trust yourself to slide off it.
• Fish oil burps
• People talking to me while I'm on the stairmaster. Does anything about my face suggest I'm having a good time and am up for a chat? Now would you ever piss off, I'm almost at the top of the hill!
• Savouring every mouthfull of a cheat meal.
• Peeing like a racehorse.
• The shadow of a 6 pack and subtle lines of a V spot.
• Waking up to an alarm every morning.
• Catching the amazing break of dawn every morning.
• Looking at bananas with longing.
• Asking dudes if they're finished with their dumbells.
• Meeting a whole new bunch of inspiring and motivational people.
• Aquiring the time managment skills of a Swiss clock.
• Sundays!
• Not drinking~ this is a positive actually. I havn't missed it one bit.
• No carb crazies....it's only just begun....I might also add crying for no reason and feeling so high from endorphins, well~ I feel high!
• The last 2minutes of cardio.
• Seriously tiny stage costumes. You know, I'm pretty sure God wouldn't have put it there if he only meant for it to be ripped out with hot wax. That is all.

So the next two weeks is all about doing the little things right. Not becoming complacent and staying focused are at the top of my To Do list....are we there yet?

11 WEEKS OUT....I'M A POSER NOW.

Last week didn't go as badly as I thought it would. I went all out on the cardio and managed to smash away that extra two kilos with pure sweat and, yes, a few tears. Lesson learnt and 'nuff said~ time to move on. Tuesday I drove out with trepidation to meet the woman who was going to make me look fabulous on stage. I''m not going to lie. I will answer to the call of the 'Roughy Toughy Princess". As much as I love being kickarse, I also like to play with my hair and prance about in ridiculously high heels. So I was pretty excited that I was going to be able to design what I wanted. She swung open the door and led me to the lycra and sequinn mecca. 'Here' she said as her squinted eyes cruised over my body. 'This is your size, try it on.' I was about to ask how she knew but thought better of it. She was intimidating in stature to say the least......actually I was a little bit frightened! I held up the tiny triangles of spandex, dubious I would even get into it. Trying to make light of it I put it on and went with a flourish~ TAH DAH!!! She deadpans me. 'You have the bums on back to front.' Mortified, I wriggle them off apologising I didn't realise butt floss had a front and back. Silly me. Hallelujah, this got a smile and I can now say I am the proud owner of my very own gorgeous butt floss bikini! Yah! Can't wait to accessorize!
Wednesday morning is what I had truely been dreading. Posing practise with Kylie. I thought she'd take one look at me and know everything I'd eaten the sunday before! So we put on our big girl shoes and I watch as she slinks across the floor and glides through a series of poses. Meh~ doesn't look so hard. I have skill. I have grace. I have agility. We begin with my relaxed pose, the one I'm supposed to stand in while waiting to be told what to do on stage. Relaxed my ARSE. Painful is the only way to describe it. "Flare your lats, stand to the side....maybe the other side is your better one. Twist. A little more. Drop that back knee NO keep the front one straight. Ram that fist into your non~ existant waist line, keep your other hand soft. Now flex everything and SMILE." Holy snappin' duckshit, Batman. I rapidly forgot the skill, grace and agility and became keenly aware of my Spondylothesis (that's a spinal deformity for you plebs). Within minutes I sweating and trembling and wondering how the hell I was going to pull this off. One word. Practise. I shall harness my Yogi skills of contortionism and look at the posing as challenging asana. Hopefully the next 11 weeks will produce a vision more of elegance and less of Kung Fu panda.
Of course I am now catching myself checking my look in the mirror! How embaresssssssing!!! HAHAHA! I was working my triceps the other day and there I am watching them flex in the mirror. SHAME!
Other than that, there have been no more lapses in dietry behaviour and I'm generally feeling pretty good. I did have one incident that I like to call the 'No Carb Crazies'. I came back to my car after going to Woolies and hit the unlock button. I heard the locks' familiar click and tugged on the door. Locked. A group of guys parked in the space next to me. I press the button again. Click. Tug on door. Locked. Colour rising in face now as guys get out of car and watch as I press, click, press, click. "Auuuurgh. Why the fuck won't you open?" Yes the car is a cherry red hatchback. It's just not MY cherry red hatchback. MY car is parked three cars down. SHHHHHHHAAAAAAAME!!!!

12 WEEKS OUT~ THE UGLY TRUTH.

I really don't want to write this this week, but if it IS going to be an account of how I've been going with my prep, then I'd best be completely truthful, warts and all. Let's just say that I feel like an epic failure. I don't know why, but last week all preparation went out the window. I made the mistake of cooking off about 2.5kgs of chicken and even though I changed up all the vegies, it was enough to create a ground hog day effect and kinda made me loose interest in eating all together. The result has been disasterous.
To begin with, I missed a couple of meals on a few of the days. I was saying to Adam that I'm not gazing with longing at things I think other people would crave, like bread or chocolate..... I miss nuts and fruit!!! He said a small handful of almonds in the afternoon if I was flagging was totally ok and he sounded suprised I wasn't doing that already. I'm extremely literal~ if it's not on the list, I don't eat it! So after an uber long day in which I had missed a meal somewhere along the way, I was up at my mum's and literally ran to the pantry to cram a handful of nuts into my mouth. Just in time for my sister to walk around the corner and bust me. (Why the hell do I feel so guilty for eating some frigging nuts!...because they aren't on my list!) The guilt is ridiculous.
My second melt down was due to my lack of headspace last week. It takes me FOREVER to leave the house now. I've never owned so much tuppawear. Doing the 20 point check list : meals 2~4,  protein shake, BCAA, Define8, work clothes, soap/toothbrush/ moisturiser, towels, work towels & sarongs, sunglasses. Keys. Standing in my living room after checking aaaaallllll of these things are present, "Aaaaaruuugh!! Where the FUCK are my keys?". After retracing my steps to the fridge, yuh~ there they are. On top of meal 5. Sigh.
Training at least went really well. Killer leg  and shoulder sessions and a very funny cardio session with Adam ("Put your headphones in, I can't talk anymore" strike one for the stairmaster!). I had my now usual 12 hour sleep on friday night and woke up feeling amazing on saturday. And that is where the fairytale ends. I went to a cocktail party and watched as my oldest group of friends got smashed on Cosmo's and had a really great time. I answered a call and wound up dancing the night away at Shooters until 3am, still completely sober and having a rad time. Then, for reasons known only to my left side brain, as we were trawling home through the Mall I said, " Let's get pizza!!!!" MY IDEA. Why? I wasn't pissed. I'd drunk that much water my eyeballs were bobbing in my head. But I was in Surfers and my whole life, a trip to the strip meant a wad of greasy barbeque chicken to hammer down the 1000 drinks I'd just necked.
I woke on Sunday hoping it was a bad dream, and then proceeded to continue my good work of destroying my diet by meeting a friend for breakfast. I could have had coffee, but instead went for a fresh fruit platter. Ohhhh how evil of me I hear you sneer. After 5 weeks of no fruit, how do you think my tummy reacted to all of that fructose? To make it worse, I THEN went to Adams' engagement party and yammered on about how strict I'd been with myself blah blah......it gets worse....
I THEN went to The Magic Apple and got a protein pattie wrap with EVERYTHING including Gado Gado sauce (picture Homer salivating over donuts)....and a piece of vegan chocolate cake. It actually hurt to eat the cake but I was in it for everything now, so I took it to the limit.
Needless to say I woke up this morning feeling DISGUSTING. But don't worry, all of my efforts were rewarded with a 2kg weight gain. Tomorrow I'm going to meet the woman who will create my costume for me to wear on stage and who is a serious competitor in her own right. Wednesday morning I get to spend a whole hour with Kylie working on my posing in a bikini and high heels. Yay! YES~ that's SARCASM.
Lesson for this week is kids: remember the 5 P's
PRIOR PREPARATION PREVENTS PISS POOR PERFORMANCE.

Can't it just be thursday already?

13 weeks out~ DON'T TOUCH MY STUFF

I now understand why pregnant ladies freak out when random strangers try to rub their bellies. Adam told me  this day would come, comments on how I look and the like. But I didn't expect people to help themsleves to handfulls of me. I'd like to put it on the record, " You can touch me when I say you can. Not a moment before." I can't believe how many hands have slid down my arms and legs in the last two weeks, not to mention a couple of savage pokes to the belly just to check if my abs were tight! I'm a massage therapist so I'm down with being tactile, but I'm the one doing the touching and I'd like to think I make it very clear that it's a one way street. So that's my little rant done now.....but you have been warned~ DON'T TOUCH MY STUFF! On the otherhand~ I have had some mad conversations with a lot of the people I work with. Last week I had massive days working with the Canturbury Crusaders and the New South Wales State of Origin teams. The kiwi lads were facinated by what I was doing. Because it really is a science of diet and training techniques to achieve a very specific result. I had to giggle though when one of the lads suggested in all seriousness that I try Zumba classes to bring a "gracefullness to your hips". Hhhhhmn. Yeah~ nah.
Last week I went to my sculpting guru, Kylie Bruno at HPC to see what she thought of my progress. I'm not gonna lie~ the first time I stood next to this living godess in my bikini....under fluro lights, was somewhat of a traumatic experience for me. She was very kind in her comments, but the whole time I was wanting to die! After that first viewing I started my carb cycle diet and training splits every day with the programme Adam gave me. I stuck to that bloody diet like glue and smashed myself in every weight session. I actively avoided looking at myself in the mirror though so three weeks later I was pretty nervous to be back in front of the mirror in my bikini again.
Happy days! I'm on track! Even though this is not a numbers game (well it kind of is if you take your actual body fat percentage into account)~ your weight isn't the be all and end all, how you look is. After my last Bioscan though, I've lost another kilo and come in now at 58kgs. Kylie thinks my stage weight should be 55kg (including loss of water weight). Otherwise I may start to burn muscle. So yaya! I'm pretty stoked with that. It's given me the boost I needed to keep motivated. I also discovered I have a hernia. Quite disconcerting as I only know it's there now because I've lost some abdominal fat! What else lies beneath???

All in all, it's been a pretty rad week. I had my first sober clubbing experience. It wasn't as painful as I thought it was going to be although I did get accused of being a Cheerleader by the drunkest guy in the room and had to gently explain to another that my calves are a result of freaky genetics~ and no he couldn't come to the gym with me in the morning. Knocking back San Pelegrino's finest with a slice of lime and feeding off everyone elses' vibe wasn't so bad! Sitting at the bar sipping black coffee while the girls were downing champagne was a bit different, but I'm lucky I have awesome friends who support what I'm doing. Early on I had a horrendous experience where I almost felt bullied to have a drink and I totally understand now why my sister became almost reclusive in her competition preparation. I'm far too social an animal to stop going out, but I've realised that this is also probably the most selfish thing I've ever allowed myself to do. NOTHING takes preceedence over my training and eating schedual. And if people can't understand that I can still be a vision of awesomeness whilst sober, then I simply stop making time for them. My whole life I have attempted to make everyone elses' path the smoothest and not make waves. But not this time. At the end of the day, I'll be the one on that stage holding a huge freaking trophy.... ; )

14 weeks out....please don't take my cheat meal away!

Last monday got the week off to a cracking start! First, I dumped the entire contents of my protein shaker into my kit bag. Then I forgot my iPod (and everyone knows the quickest way to kill your workout mojo is to not have your own tunes)~ double distaster because I happen to be a Maria Sharapova~esque style of weight lifter. With my headphones in, I can't hear myself ~ sucked in to everyone else who can! Then when I finally got my shit together and actually made it to the gym floor, everything had been moved! Are you KIDDING me??? It took me 3 weeks to not wander aimlessly amid the equipment, pretending I knew what I was doing. Sigh. Monday was topped by Tuesdays' effort of protein shaking the inside of my car....which in hindsight wasn't so bad compared to the tuna salad I lost under the passenger seat on Sunday. It goes without saying I'm getting my car professionally detailed once this all over.
Thursday was D~day...weigh in and Bio Scan at HPC. Havn't lost that much weight which I was seriously bummed about, but happy days~ everything I've lost has been fat and lean muscle mass has even improved a couple of points. So at 14 weeks out I'm sitting on 14.9% body fat. 59kgs with 50.5kgs lean muscle mass. Should I be freaking out? I don't know! I've never done this before remember!!! In my mind I have a goal of getting to 7~8%....I reakon I can do it. I know my weakness is my lats~ how the frig do you flare your lats without looking like the back of a Mac truck??? I'll just have to get bigger ones. Pity your boobs don't get bigger with all this hard work. I just had to down size my bra....I don't really want to talk about it. Needless to say I'm devo'd. They bloody well better grow back! The local tit guy kinda freaks me out! I don't think you should trust anybody with your boobs who is obviously wearing their knee caps as eyebrows.
I have to say, until now I never really understood the cheat meal obsession. Is it wrong to plan what you're having for dinner on sunday night as you're doing monday mornings' cardio? I started out really well. My first cheat meal my sister and I cooked up a sensational vegan feast. My second was equally delicious but slightly less healthy, Pad Thai. The third.......I'm hoping Adam doesn't read this~ a mini tub of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food! Aaaaaaurrrgh! I seriously nailed the whole thing because I knew if I didn't, it would call out to me from the depths of my freezer for the entire week, until in a mindless frenzy I would get up in the middle of the night to finish it and my flatmate would find me in a sad, cold, chocolatey mess slumped against the fridge. WHAT? It could have happened.
So now comes the serious business of juggling work with training. Last week was the busiest week~ 20 massages & 5 yoga classes. I made it to 6pm friday night before collapsing into my bed. The kind exhaustion that makes you feel like you're in an induced coma and you know you aren't going to wake up for a long time. Boo Yah! Made it all the way to 6am saturday morning and I only woke up because in my brain fog I must have set my alarm. All I can say is, suppliments make everything better.
Next on the list~ posing. Time to step out of the comfort zone and get my flex on....watch this space!

Pre Competion Preparation

Well. Here we are at the moment I never thought to entertain. I started training at HPC Gold Coast with Adam Green in January this year. In our first session he asked if I would ever think about competing in a body sculpting competion. He was met with a straight up, "Hell no!". My sister had competed in 2008 and I remembered the tears, the mood swings, the hunger.....oh the HUNGER. Next to training and singing at the top of my lungs in the comfort of my car, eating is pretty much my favourite thing to do. So why would I embark on a four month campaign of depravity? Why indeed?
After two months of training with Adam I was noticing some pretty cool changes in my physique. Others started noticing as well. And so the seeds were planted. I work in an incredibly athletic field and am surrounded by a host of talented and inspiring athletes. I live in a world of massage, yoga and dencor rub. Personally I love pushing the physical boundaries.I have done some crazy shit in my time. I cycled from St Petersburg to Moscow. Horsebacked through Costa Rica. I lived on a farm in Italy that you had to hike for two hours up a mountain to get to and didn't want to come back down. I've done the Gold Coast half marathon (badly!!) and an adventure race through the hills behind Gosford. I bloody massaged for 12hrs straight after the floods!!
I was being asked constantly why I wasn't competing and so I started to think...and think....and think. I rely on my strength to get me through my work day. Would I be able to do this and still support myself? My body is strong~ but my mind? Did I have the disciplin to see it through? At the end of the day, I thought, 'Screw it. THIS is what Kia did next." What is life without challenges to rise to? 
So before I could chicken out I told everybody. And I mean EVERYBODY that I was going to do it. If I couldn't trust my self control~ sheer fear of the humilation of failure would be motivation enough.
And now here I am. Three weeks in and 2.5kgs and 2% body fat lighter. Let me share some of the highlights thus far......
Just incase you were wondering, getting thinner doesn't automatically make everything better. I used to be obese as a teenager. That isn't me being dramatic. I am 160cm tall and I was 84kgs. Loosing weight doesn't mean you suddenly have this amazing new image of yourself. Half the time I look in the mirror and still see teenage me. Maybe if we took the time to see ourselves as our friends and loved ones do~ the world would be a much less angst filled place. So it's still a struggle to simply say thank you when someone compliments the changes I'm making. 
This next bit is very important. VERY. IMPORTANT. Do NOT ever, EVER go and get a new tattoo when you've literally just lost all the fat off your back. Jesus wept~ I've never known pain like it. And before anyone leaves a smartarse comment that tattoo's are supposed to hurt, I know...I already have five. The icing on the cake was when the guy doing it asked if I had had an operation. Confused me," No. Why?" Him "Your skin is all loose and stretchy". Cue a flood of tears from moi, and one seriously uncomfortable Maori. 
Next, the high protein diet can initiate some unusual bodily responses. After the first two weeks I pulled back my sleeve and waved my arm under my brothers' nose. "Does this smell like meat to you? Do I smell like MEAT?"  A quick trip to the healthfood store later, supergreens tucked under my arm, I was ready to re~alkyline my body. P.S. it should be dually noted that supergreens (no matter how much Acai is added) taste like total arse.
Lastly, this is the reason why I am sat here in front of my computer. Nobody tells you how isolating training like this can be. I have spent the last 10 years searching for ways to out run, out smart, out play my depression. Training was the one area of my life I knew I would always win. HarderFasterBetterStronger~ that is my motto. I don't know why, but these last couple of weeks have been very dark for me. Suddenly I've found myself in this bizaar world of strength & beauty pagentry. What was I thinking? At the end of the day it doesn't matter how hard you train~ it's how you LOOK on stage. Shit. Physical fatigue is one thing. You suck it up and march on through. Mental fatigue can be cured by rubbing your eyes and getting some serious shut eye. But emotional fatigue sucks your very will to live. It makes you cry when you simply detest crying. It makes you not answer the phone. It creates apathy which is so much worse than being hyperemotional. It makes you loose the sleep that you need to heal. It makes 100 little voices make you question your very motives for wanting to achieve your goal.

I guess this is my IN YOUR FACE to those little voices. Primarily it is for me to be able to chart how I'm going week by week. Maybe someone will read it and laugh and cry along the way with me too.