sassy69
TID Lady Member
- Aug 16, 2011
- 1,067
- 398
I thought this was a great & very real summary of the competition lifestyle and managing the extremes of it. For any new competitors, this rings soooo true. I can't tell you the importance of keeping an even keel in your actions as well as perceptions and behaviors going thru prep to post prep. By definition, it is extreme, but you can still accommodate the extremes w/ some patience, common sense, realistic expectations and understanding that the whole thing is about phases and managing the goals and transitions between the phases and goals for overall better health and ability to go forward. The things we're manipulating to get on stage are the things that fundamentally make up who we are - thru diet, ultra focused training, and ultra restrictive schedules of recovery, stress - we are stripping out all the other "average" stuff in our lives and getting down to what makes us survive, what makes us female and what makes up the personalities and biochemically operating machines that we are: hormones - stress hormones, sex hormones - all the things that our body uses to manage our moods, our body's optimal functioning, our ability to survive and reproduce. Going into showtime is usually so well-defined and focused, but coming out of a show, there's usually no plan, and you're leaving your body to figure out wtf is going on when suddenly it is left in a very survival-threatened state and your expectations aren't set up for what follows. Just as we do all of the stuff we do to manipulate our body chemistry (ultimately manipulating your hormones .. and I'm not speaking strictly about steroids) - post show, the body has to some how get back to "normal" (find homeostasis) while you're not quite sure what to do next - your impulse is to go pound every food you've restricted from your diet for the last 4 months while expecting your body to stay as great as it looks for all the work you put in. And then suddenly it doesn't stay that way, you have no more show to focus on, so suddenly there's no structure to your day, you don't "have" to diet & train & cardio like you were, you are looking softer as each day goes by, and you're noticing you have lost your "purpose", your drive and now you're getting depressed, even tho your trophy & photos from all your work are sitting in front of you in all their glory. Everyone around you probably stopped talking to you weeks ago because you were so focused on prep and everything you did came w/ constraints. And now even your competition buddies have moved on. WTF?
Enjoy:
Link: http://jen-fits-playground.com/2011/05/the-big-comp-is-over-so-what-now-2/
The Big COMP is over - So what now??
So what now?
The big day is over.
After months of preparation, managing every detail, 2-a-day and sometimes 3-a-day cardio sessions, increased lean protein requirements, decreased carb requirements, less fruit, more water, less sodium, less dairy, less whey and protein powders, more sleep, less energy, more nerves, less bodyfat, more excitement – it’s finally over.
I can speak for Figure only, but I would assume it’s the same for both bikini and bodybuilding as well. From the moment I decide to compete and fall within that 3-month “golden” window, my life changes. Everything becomes about the show. My diet, my look, my physique, my workouts, my energy, my shoes, my jewelry, my hair, my nails, my waxing/shaving, finding the next bathroom, everything. It can be a very selfish and self-absorbing sport. I acknowledge that. Even when I’m amidst the process I can sense it. I’m always thinking about it – nearly obsessing about it. And it’s bound to rub off on those around me.
My husband feels it.
My family feels it.
My friends feel it.
My life suddenly becomes part of their problem because “I” (the friend with strings) comes with requirements. I am more than vocal where I want to eat, what I want to do, what time I need to be home, when I want to go to bed, and most certainly where’s the next bathroom I can “pee”.
My life becomes even more structured than it already is during the off-season and my friends and family members feel the adverse effects of it.
Here’s an example. Not too long ago we went with some of our closest friends to Coldstone – a place I’d NEVER go during contest prep. I ordered the medium size deluxe version ice cream with all the extras – my favorite. My best friend’s husband commented on my appetite (this isn’t new – now that I think about it my other friend’s husband did the same thing on the cruise – I can eat). Anyway, I reminded him of all the months I didn’t partake. of. anything. With which he commented, “Yeah, we like THIS Jenny better”. I understood his frustration. When I’m competing I’m not as fun. Sometimes I don’t even like myself.
But the big day is worth it. Every challenge, trial, and temptation leads up to that one single-most anticipated day. And there’s no denying how memorable and satisfying competing can be. There’s nothing like it. It’s surreal. You’re at your best physique-wise. You’re gorgeous. You’re wearing a stunning blinged-out suit. You’re dolled up. You feel every bit a barbie and Ms America combined. And you feel strong. And shapely. Sports Illustrated doesn’t have anything on you. You’re every bit as sexy, and you have the delts and the abs to prove it. The day of the show is the sum of all your hard work combined.
But after the show? Then what?
I’m usually on a cloud for about a week after. I’m still excited. I’m still floating around from the memory. Everyone’s still asking me how I did, how I placed, how I felt, to see pictures. I’m still tan, and many times my muscles are fuller after the show because I’m no longer restricting my body from some of the “taboo” foods. For the first week my body is thankful for the break. I don’t run. I don’t really train, and I definitely rest.
But beyond a week? Then what?
It’s usually about that point I start to feel a little lost. For me once the show is over I wander a bit. After months of living, breathing, training, and eating by a very strict schedule, it’s the first time I’m once again on my own. And odd as it sounds, I don’t know what to do with myself. Granted I managed to take care of myself for 37 years before I ever competed, but competing changes things. It’s rigorous and a lot of hard work. After my first show I felt sluggish, unproductive, and let-down.
Most competitors refer to this as the post-comp blues.
A lot of women fall in to depression.
Many women lose themselves in food. They start eating anything and everything they possibly can because their diets were so restricted for several months. At first their bodies burn it off as quickly as they consume it, but it catches up. I’ve had some competitor friends who have ballooned up – gaining anywhere from 15 – 35 pounds – finding themselves bigger than they were before they decided to compete.
Then there are some women who go the other extreme and continue to watch their diets oh so closely, cutting as many of the extras out as possible – fats, or carbs, or calories, or any combination of them. This was me last year. I loved the way I looked at competition so much that afterward I continued to log everything in Livestrong, and I had this sick mental game going on in my head that tried to restrict as many fats as I could. It was twisted. If I could get my fats to 10% and lower, I was happy. If I could keep my calories to 1600 and lower, I was elated. I knew what was right and wrong, but mentally I didn’t care. I wanted to look a certain way. It wasn’t until I bottomed out last Fall and discovered I had hypothyroidism after the Top of Utah marathon that I realized I’d done my body more damage than good. It was the wake-up call I needed. And now I’m happy to say I get my fair share of calories and fats. **smile** I only share this with you because it can happen to ANY of us.
The reality is…competition is a lot harder after the show than beforehand. No one can understand the mind games but you, so it’s incredibly important to have a game plan.
I think the key is to realize that #1 you are completely normal if you are concerned after the show about gaining weight, gaining body fat, and losing definition. I’d venture to say every competitor is concerned about this. It’s just the reality. The fact that you acknowledge it will hopefully help you address it head-on.
Don’t try to live up to unrealistic expectations. Your friends will comment about how incredible you looked at the show. Take it in. Enjoy it. But realize it’s not realistic to maintain that look. Don’t expect it of yourself, and don’t let them expect it of you. We should all be proud of our days on stage, but to stay that lean year-round is not healthy. Women compliment me all the time on my shows pics, or pics I’ve had taken within month or so of competing. They ask how “they too can get that physique.”. I remind them (quickly) that those pictures reflect a very small window of time. They are not realistic of what Jenny looks like year-round. Sure, I still have definition, and I still have my muscle base, but there’s a lot more softness and cushion that comes with it. Don’t feel you need to live up to other people’s unrealistic expectations of you.
Have a plan…a meal-plan that is. This will help you from over-eating and from under-eating. Ideally have that plan ready to implement within a few days after the show. Enjoy those first couple of days. Indulge. Have a few treats. Enjoy the things you restricted yourself from. You deserve it. You worked hard for them. But then get back on track. I’m not saying completely go back to the restricted eating program you had before, but have some guidelines. Identify how many calories, carbs, fats, proteins, and sugars you want to maintain on a daily basis. What are some of the foods and meal options that fit within those macros? If you can’t figure it out, seek help. You want to have a variety, several options in your “arsenal” you can pull out on a daily basis to keep your diet interesting, exciting, AND clean. By having that plan (or plans) ahead of time, you have something to refer to after the show – which is when you’ll need it most. Remember you don’t want to overeat or undereat. I’ve seen both.
Lastly, set a new goal. I really feel this is important. After training and prepping for so long for such a big event, it’s normal to feel a little depressed and melancholy about it being over. Set a new goal. It could be another show, another hobby, another endeavor, adding more muscle, running a race, or something completely different all together. Have something to focus on that grabs your interest, time, and energy. The more you are focused on working towards a new goal, the less likely you’ll be be sad about the show being over.
Competing is a huge feat. It’s a wonderful example of mind and spirit over body. It’s beautiful. For any of you who have competed or are competing, you should be so proud of yourself. Have no regrets. It’s one more quiver in your hat, a bucket-list item.
The post-comp blues are normal. You can get through it though, and with proper planning and acknowledging it for what it is, you’ll be on a better track than without. Each of the three seasons I’ve competed (the spring, the fall, and again the next spring) I’ve learned many new things about myself. It’s gotten easier. I now know going forward what to expect, what to do, what not to do, and how to avoid the mistakes I’ve made in the past. And I’ll compete again. Next spring. Hopefully this time smarter and more aware and better prepared than in seasons passed.
I hope this random post in some way helps you too.Good Luck competing GALS. I’m with you all the way!
Enjoy:
Link: http://jen-fits-playground.com/2011/05/the-big-comp-is-over-so-what-now-2/
The Big COMP is over - So what now??
So what now?
The big day is over.
After months of preparation, managing every detail, 2-a-day and sometimes 3-a-day cardio sessions, increased lean protein requirements, decreased carb requirements, less fruit, more water, less sodium, less dairy, less whey and protein powders, more sleep, less energy, more nerves, less bodyfat, more excitement – it’s finally over.
I can speak for Figure only, but I would assume it’s the same for both bikini and bodybuilding as well. From the moment I decide to compete and fall within that 3-month “golden” window, my life changes. Everything becomes about the show. My diet, my look, my physique, my workouts, my energy, my shoes, my jewelry, my hair, my nails, my waxing/shaving, finding the next bathroom, everything. It can be a very selfish and self-absorbing sport. I acknowledge that. Even when I’m amidst the process I can sense it. I’m always thinking about it – nearly obsessing about it. And it’s bound to rub off on those around me.
My husband feels it.
My family feels it.
My friends feel it.
My life suddenly becomes part of their problem because “I” (the friend with strings) comes with requirements. I am more than vocal where I want to eat, what I want to do, what time I need to be home, when I want to go to bed, and most certainly where’s the next bathroom I can “pee”.
My life becomes even more structured than it already is during the off-season and my friends and family members feel the adverse effects of it.
Here’s an example. Not too long ago we went with some of our closest friends to Coldstone – a place I’d NEVER go during contest prep. I ordered the medium size deluxe version ice cream with all the extras – my favorite. My best friend’s husband commented on my appetite (this isn’t new – now that I think about it my other friend’s husband did the same thing on the cruise – I can eat). Anyway, I reminded him of all the months I didn’t partake. of. anything. With which he commented, “Yeah, we like THIS Jenny better”. I understood his frustration. When I’m competing I’m not as fun. Sometimes I don’t even like myself.
But the big day is worth it. Every challenge, trial, and temptation leads up to that one single-most anticipated day. And there’s no denying how memorable and satisfying competing can be. There’s nothing like it. It’s surreal. You’re at your best physique-wise. You’re gorgeous. You’re wearing a stunning blinged-out suit. You’re dolled up. You feel every bit a barbie and Ms America combined. And you feel strong. And shapely. Sports Illustrated doesn’t have anything on you. You’re every bit as sexy, and you have the delts and the abs to prove it. The day of the show is the sum of all your hard work combined.
But after the show? Then what?
I’m usually on a cloud for about a week after. I’m still excited. I’m still floating around from the memory. Everyone’s still asking me how I did, how I placed, how I felt, to see pictures. I’m still tan, and many times my muscles are fuller after the show because I’m no longer restricting my body from some of the “taboo” foods. For the first week my body is thankful for the break. I don’t run. I don’t really train, and I definitely rest.
But beyond a week? Then what?
It’s usually about that point I start to feel a little lost. For me once the show is over I wander a bit. After months of living, breathing, training, and eating by a very strict schedule, it’s the first time I’m once again on my own. And odd as it sounds, I don’t know what to do with myself. Granted I managed to take care of myself for 37 years before I ever competed, but competing changes things. It’s rigorous and a lot of hard work. After my first show I felt sluggish, unproductive, and let-down.
Most competitors refer to this as the post-comp blues.
A lot of women fall in to depression.
Many women lose themselves in food. They start eating anything and everything they possibly can because their diets were so restricted for several months. At first their bodies burn it off as quickly as they consume it, but it catches up. I’ve had some competitor friends who have ballooned up – gaining anywhere from 15 – 35 pounds – finding themselves bigger than they were before they decided to compete.
Then there are some women who go the other extreme and continue to watch their diets oh so closely, cutting as many of the extras out as possible – fats, or carbs, or calories, or any combination of them. This was me last year. I loved the way I looked at competition so much that afterward I continued to log everything in Livestrong, and I had this sick mental game going on in my head that tried to restrict as many fats as I could. It was twisted. If I could get my fats to 10% and lower, I was happy. If I could keep my calories to 1600 and lower, I was elated. I knew what was right and wrong, but mentally I didn’t care. I wanted to look a certain way. It wasn’t until I bottomed out last Fall and discovered I had hypothyroidism after the Top of Utah marathon that I realized I’d done my body more damage than good. It was the wake-up call I needed. And now I’m happy to say I get my fair share of calories and fats. **smile** I only share this with you because it can happen to ANY of us.
The reality is…competition is a lot harder after the show than beforehand. No one can understand the mind games but you, so it’s incredibly important to have a game plan.
I think the key is to realize that #1 you are completely normal if you are concerned after the show about gaining weight, gaining body fat, and losing definition. I’d venture to say every competitor is concerned about this. It’s just the reality. The fact that you acknowledge it will hopefully help you address it head-on.
Don’t try to live up to unrealistic expectations. Your friends will comment about how incredible you looked at the show. Take it in. Enjoy it. But realize it’s not realistic to maintain that look. Don’t expect it of yourself, and don’t let them expect it of you. We should all be proud of our days on stage, but to stay that lean year-round is not healthy. Women compliment me all the time on my shows pics, or pics I’ve had taken within month or so of competing. They ask how “they too can get that physique.”. I remind them (quickly) that those pictures reflect a very small window of time. They are not realistic of what Jenny looks like year-round. Sure, I still have definition, and I still have my muscle base, but there’s a lot more softness and cushion that comes with it. Don’t feel you need to live up to other people’s unrealistic expectations of you.
Have a plan…a meal-plan that is. This will help you from over-eating and from under-eating. Ideally have that plan ready to implement within a few days after the show. Enjoy those first couple of days. Indulge. Have a few treats. Enjoy the things you restricted yourself from. You deserve it. You worked hard for them. But then get back on track. I’m not saying completely go back to the restricted eating program you had before, but have some guidelines. Identify how many calories, carbs, fats, proteins, and sugars you want to maintain on a daily basis. What are some of the foods and meal options that fit within those macros? If you can’t figure it out, seek help. You want to have a variety, several options in your “arsenal” you can pull out on a daily basis to keep your diet interesting, exciting, AND clean. By having that plan (or plans) ahead of time, you have something to refer to after the show – which is when you’ll need it most. Remember you don’t want to overeat or undereat. I’ve seen both.
Lastly, set a new goal. I really feel this is important. After training and prepping for so long for such a big event, it’s normal to feel a little depressed and melancholy about it being over. Set a new goal. It could be another show, another hobby, another endeavor, adding more muscle, running a race, or something completely different all together. Have something to focus on that grabs your interest, time, and energy. The more you are focused on working towards a new goal, the less likely you’ll be be sad about the show being over.
Competing is a huge feat. It’s a wonderful example of mind and spirit over body. It’s beautiful. For any of you who have competed or are competing, you should be so proud of yourself. Have no regrets. It’s one more quiver in your hat, a bucket-list item.
The post-comp blues are normal. You can get through it though, and with proper planning and acknowledging it for what it is, you’ll be on a better track than without. Each of the three seasons I’ve competed (the spring, the fall, and again the next spring) I’ve learned many new things about myself. It’s gotten easier. I now know going forward what to expect, what to do, what not to do, and how to avoid the mistakes I’ve made in the past. And I’ll compete again. Next spring. Hopefully this time smarter and more aware and better prepared than in seasons passed.
I hope this random post in some way helps you too.Good Luck competing GALS. I’m with you all the way!
