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?
