One Week Out

It's that time - GO TIME.  I got my hair did, my nails did, and my game face ON.

This week was oddly easy.  I breezed through my MET lifts and my cardio like they were nothing.  I made leg day my bitch with Lauren, zipped through my 400 HIIT sprints in 45 minutes (6 miles in 45 mins, y'all - that's insane for the tail end of contest prep), and I turned down pizza and cupcakes like they were dog shit.  I'm settling in for peak week, although my trainer doesn't really take any drastic measures during the dry out week.  Some carb, water, and salt manipulation and BAM - insta-sexy.  No drugs, no diuretics, no bullshit voodoo magic that most other trainers employ.  Yet another reason that I heart LA.

Mentally, I feel like I should be freaking out more.  I'm at complete peace: I've put in all the hard work, I've done all that I can, and I've been 100% compliant on my diet for 10 straight weeks.  I can only control the effort, not the outcome.  What happens next Saturday is out of my hands at this point.  I have no clue what the other girls will look like, I have no clue whether or not the judges will like my physique, and I have no idea how many girls will be in my height class.  I think after going through this process 3 times now I am far more accepting of the unknown.  It is what it is.  Give 100% all the time, every time, and let the chips fall where they may.  That's all you can do.

A lot of people ask, "Doesn't that bother you?  Knowing that you work so hard for over 2 months, to potentially not place?"  Sure, it's a risk every competitor must take.  But I'm not in this for the trophy.  I'd love one, don't get me wrong, but I compete to prove to myself that I have the ability to do something that 99% of America does not.  My willpower is unmatched.  My determination cannot be beat.  My work ethic cannot be outdone.  It's a lot of work for 1 very short day, but the PROCESS is what this is all about for me.  Competitors who place so much emphasis on placements are in for a big let down.  BIG.  And I feel sorry for them, really - to place so much of their self-worth on a $40 trophy just seems sad and pathetic to me.  I am not Beth Polisson: figure competitor.  I am Beth Polisson: daughter, sister, girlfriend, mother to Trotter, friend, spin instructor, white-girl dancer, foodie, chef, project manager......I define myself by more than just competing.  This is a HOBBY.  For those who base their lives on this, what happens when the heels come off?  What happens when the suits are sold and the stage is no longer your home?  Then what?????  IT makes me depressed for those people just thinking about it.

So, win or lose, trophy or no trophy, I am victorious.  And, win or lose, I still get to EAT PANCAKES, BITCHES!!!  The next time I post here, I hope to have a trophy and an IFPA pro card in my hands - until then someone please, for the love of God, go have a pumpkin spice latte for me. 

Teamwork and French Fries

3 weeks out: I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...............I repeat this mantra every day.  I am nearing the end of "hell weeks," and I'm feeling pretty good.  I still have not really suffered any strength decreases, but my energy has diminished pretty significantly.  I take more frequent breaks during my MET workouts,  and my sweat levels aren't as high as they used to be, but I'm ok with that - I have been expecting it.  My hunger is absolutely out of control, so I've added in a 7th meal of 1c of egg whites when I feel like I need it.  Egg whites!  So exciting!  Pfffffft.  I despise egg whites.  Have you ever SMELLED them?  I made the mistake of holding them up to my nose yesterday, and I damn near soiled myself. 

One thing that I have been acutely aware of recently is the importance of the girls in Yeager Bombs.  I knew this would happen, which is why I wanted to start the group in the first place.  Yes, figure competitions are entirely individual - you are on stage by yourself, your placings are based on YOUR physique, and you are accountable for yourself during prep.  Every Sunday, the Yeager Bombs get our sweat on together, and it's so, so helpful.  To have Ashley, Lauren, Katy, Nicole, and Amy in there with me pushes me in ways that I cannot really express.  They feel what I feel, they think what I think, they push how I push.  It's incredibly motivating.  Additionally, during the week, I coerce Lauren or Nicole to lift with me, or Ashley to run sprints with me.  They fall for it every time!  Heehee!  Our workouts are so tough, that just having someone there with me, experiencing the same pain, is a bit of a comfort.  I know I can look over at Lauren grinding out another torturous set of step-up crossovers and I'll immediately feel better about the pain in my legs and my own shortness of breath.  When the road gets this tough, having a good buddy along the way does wonders for the psyche.  I feed sorry for people who don't train with groups during contest prep.  I went down this road alone once, and it sucked BIG TIME.  3 of the girls I train with will be in my class, and sure, it'll suck to be up against them, but I honestly don't care who wins.  Do I want it to be me?  Obviously.  Will I be upset if it's Lauren or Nic?  Nope!  My triumphs are their triumphs and vice versa.  This is the way it should be.  I have always been a very team-oriented gal: it's just the way my brain is wired.  At the end of the day, if Lauren or Nicole wins my class, I'll be backstage, jumping up and down in my heels, squealing like a little girl when they're on stage for the overall title.  I will take pride in their victory.  Because at the end of the day, this isn't Beth vs Lauren vs Nicole: this is the Yeager Bombs vs the other bitches on stage.  I want a victory for my TEAM.  Last year, when Melanie won the overall fitness title, I CRIED - I was literally so happy for her that I cried.  That's what it's all about, my friends.

Now onto the fries.  My hunger is absolutely out of control these days.  White potatoes are on my meal plan, and I so look forward to chowing down on my delicious spuds every night.  I often vary the way in which I prepare my 'taters, and this week, I made them into french fries.  Now, before you get TOO excited, understand that I am at a point in prep where I can't really put anything fancy on my food.  So if you think these are going to taste like the shit you get at McD's, think again.  But they get the job done.  And for those of you who want to talk about Glycemic Index, save your breath - I have no time for the GI, and I think it's a bunch of buuuuuuuuuulshit.  I don't really care that white potatoes are higher on the GI than sweet potatoes.  Why?  Because I workout, that's why.  And because they're higher on the satiety index than sweet potatoes.  And right now, I care way more about how full I feel.  Enough of the broscience, here's my fry recipe:

5 white potatoes, cut into thin fries
sea salt/pepper
oregano
garlic salt
PAM evoo

Preheat oven to 425 and spray cookie sheet with PAM.  Place your fries on the cookie sheet and spray them with PAM, as well.  Sprinkle on all of your spices and bake for 20-25 minutes.  Check them to make sure they don't burn.  When done, take them out and stir them around a bit.  Move the rack to the very top of your oven and turn on the broiler to high.  Broil for about 5 minutes to finish them off and to make them crispy.  You have to watch them like a damn hawk to make sure they don't burn.