Dealing With Disappointment

I competed last weekend at the Yorton Cup up in Baltimore, MD.  This was my first show in a new federation, the OCB.  I moved to the OCB to escape the rampant drug use, sex exploitation, rigged judging, and general bullshit of the NPC/IFBB.  I enjoyed my first experience with the OCB for the most part.  Here's a recap of my weekend:

The Yeager Bombs traveled up on Thursday, and we settled into the host hotel.  Holy ghetto, batman.  I've stayed in some piece of shit hotels in my day, but this one was definitely top 5 in terms of the worst places I've ever stayed.  Jim and I were originally assigned a room that smelled so strongly of weed, you'd swear Cheech and Chong were the previous occupants.  We moved rooms, and our new room was skunk-free, thankfully.  There was only 1 working elevator, which caused major headaches for everyone trying to go from their rooms to their cars.  I ended up using the stairs for the majority of the weekend.  Not easy to do when you're carb-depleted and covered in tanner.  And not wearing any panties underneath your long t-shirt.

Aside from the ghetto fabulousness of the Laurel, MD Quality Inn, the OCB was damn organized.  We had rolling check in times that ran smoothly and efficiently, and we were in and out faster than Kim Kardashian's marriage.  We also had to take a polygraph test to rule out drug use.  This was my first time being hooked up to a polygraph, and it was a bit unnerving.  I have absolutely nothing to hide, as the only supplement I've ever taken is creatine.  But being hooked up to blood pressure cuffs, finger cuffs, and some weird band around your rib cage makes you a bit nervous.  Some of the questions were hilarious: "Have you ever stolen a large sum of money?"  As opposed to a small sum?  WTF???  But.....I like the polygraph.  Even though I'm sure you can fool that thing, it does make me feel like there's an added layer of protection against competing with girls who are sticking needles in their asses and shaving their facial hair.  I'm sorry, but if you win a show after you've cheated, you don't deserve it.  Plain and simple.  I don't play that shit.  Play fair.  Play right.  Earn your win.  I busted my ASS in the gym for over 2 years in order to gain a mere 8lbs of muscle.  I ain't trying to get bested by someone who hasn't worked as hard.

My spray tan, done by the lovely Heidi with LSR, went flawlessly, as usual.  I was a new race on stage, which is just the way I like it.  I j'adore LSR - 2 coats, max, no smudges, no streaks, dries fast, and you can sleep with clothes on and roll around like a lunatic and you won't have any weird marks in the morning.  And the best part?  The shower to shower fresh that they dust all over you when you're done.  The whole no deodorant thing is a pain in my ass, and the powder is such a nice touch that goes a long, long way with me (and with Jim, too!!!  No one likes a stinky girlfriend!).

Show day arrived, and I was nervous.  I'm always nervous.  I have horrific stage fright, and shows always give me anxiety.  I woke up feeling and looking good, minus the nerves.  I put on my suit, did my hair, got my makeup done by my girl, Katy, and headed to the venue.  The venue was pretty nice - much nicer than I expected considering it was at a local high school.  But I tell you what - I've NEVER seen an auditorium like that at any high school.  It was nicer and bigger than some auditoriums I've been in at state level NPC shows.  Well done, Lauren High School, well done.  Pre-judging for our show didn't start until 2:30 pm, which was a NICE change from the 10am NPC stuff.  I didn't have to get up at the ass crack of dawn, I could take my time getting ready, and I was well-rested.  My girls were backstage with me, and we got busy waiting for our turn to go on stage.  Little did we know that our turn wouldn't be until 3 hours later, and that we'd have no time between pre-judging and the night show.  It made for a VERY long day, and it was so, so uncomfortable.  We didn't go on until about 530, and the night show started at 6.  So we had no time to rest, no time to go back to the hotel and put our feet up, no nothing.  It made for one of the longest days of my LIFE.

Me before my spray tan.  Right.  On.  Point.

From the back.  High, round glutes!

During pre-judging, we were all brought out on stage as an entire class.  So all 7 hussies in my class filed out on stage together and got into our first pose.  They quarter turned us to the right through 1 full rotation and then moved us.  More specifically, they moved me to the center spot.  For those of you who don't know much about competing, you ALWAYS want to be in the center.  When I got moved, my girl Ryan screamed, "DAMN RIGHT," which made me laugh.  It echoed across the entire auditorium, in true Ryan fashion.  My love for that ho knows no bounds!  They turned us again, moved us around again, turned us some more, then I got moved again to the left of center, then we were turned AGAIN.  Now, this is what I like about the OCB - they move you alllllllllll around.  You truly feel like you're being judged fairly, and like you're really being compared to the other girls.  I saw the judges looking at me, pointing at me, whispering, gesturing, writing, etc.  Sometimes, in the NPC, judges TEXT on their damn phones while you're posing.  True story.  I've seen it with my own 2 eyes.  After pre-judging was over, I looked at pics on LA's camera.  I immediately liked what I saw: I was, hands down, BY FAR, the most symmetrical girl on stage.  I also had the best ass and the most muscular legs.  1 of the other girls had a great lat spread, but her posing sucked, and anyone can have a wide-looking back when they hold their arms out 20 feet from their body.  Truth be told, I thought I had it.  I thought I had it in the bag.  It honestly didn't even seem like a contest.  And I'm not saying that because I think I'm all that and a bag of chips.  I'm saying that because I brought my best physique to the stage EVER and I looked better than the girls in my class. 

I am 3rd from the right.  Look at that ass. 

My ass is the one on the right.

Imagine my surprise when, at the night show, I hear my name called for 3rd place.  Please don't misinterpret this as me being ungrateful - my goal was top 3 in my class, so I accomplished my goal.  And 3rd place is great!  But, when you know that your physique should have CLEANED UP, it's hard to settle for less than 1st.  I did my best not to let my disappointment show on my face.  I congratulated the 1st place finisher, as she truly was a nice girl, but I was on the verge of tears a couple of times up on that stage.  The 1 really really bad thing about competing is that 8-10 weeks worth of ball-busting work are culminated on 1 day, within a matter of minutes.  It can be very anti-climactic if you don't do as well as you wanted.  To me, I felt like my entire contest prep was a waste.  I wanted to throw my trophy and stomp off and throw a tantrum like a little girl; I'm not a little girl, and I faced it like a woman.  I put a smile on my face, smiled at the judges, congratulated the winner, and went on with my life.  I don't even think my friends, the YBs, or even Jim truly knew how upset I was. 

Accepting my trophy

2nd place is on the left, 1st place is in white

This prep was not easy for me.  I started my prep at 152 and got down to 132.  I think I probably hit the stage in the high 120s.  That's 20 effing pounds in 10 weeks.  Do you understand those numbers?  Do you know what is required to lose that much weight in such a short period of time?  I'll tell you what: grueling MET work, interval sprints that make you want your mommy, and 100% dietary compliance.  So that combined with the fact that my physique was on point nearly put me over the edge.  I didn't let my emotions surface until I got into the shower.  Once the water hit me and splattered LSR all over the walls, I let it go.  I cried.  I shook my head and said, "How???"  More importantly, I asked, "Why?"  Why did I put myself through prep, only to finish 2nd runner up?  I put my head and my hands and I cried.  It felt good to release those tears.  Sometimes I'm too stoic, and I knew that this was not one of those things that I should keep inside. 

After a few minutes, I started feeling a little less sorry for myself, and I thought of my girls: Lauren, Nicole, and Ashley.  Lauren competed at an NPC show last year and got robbed.  Her physique was bangin' and she didn't even PLACE.  I thought about her, and her struggle after that show.  I thought about her journey and what this show meant to her.  Lauren placed 4th in her class at this show and finally got the hardware that she deserved, and I was so happy for her.  Then I thought about Nicole and Ashley, who were both first-time competitors. Both girls had a tough prep, and getting up on stage was such a great accomplishment for them.  I think, although difficult, they enjoyed the process, and they enjoyed themselves on stage.  I was proud of them for having the balls to get up there and actually compete.  They worked their asses off, and I am happy to be a part of the Yeager Bombs with them.  Then I thought of Leigh Ann.  LA's pregnant ass got on a plane and flew up to Baltimore to be with us.  She handled a minor Jan Tana crisis for the other girls, brought extra clothes and food, looked us over in the morning to make sure we looked ready, tweaked our posing, calmed us down, glazed us, sprayed our suits into place, yelled for us in the audience, took pics, took video..........there's nothing LA DIDN'T do last weekend.

Me and L-dogg with our hardware

YBs backstage!!

YBs with LA

Being an ass

In thinking about all of this, I realized that the Yeager Bombs were successful.  We had an amazeballs coach, we were all healthy, happy girls, and we all accomplished our goals.  Sure, I didn't win my pro card, but there were so many other things for which I should be thankful.  I am still upset about not finishing higher, but I'm getting over it.  I'm using it to help me "play pissed," as my dad calls it.  Historically, when I'd get pissed off during a soccer game, I'd turn into a goddamn banshee and just destroy people.  I'd sprint faster than anyone on the field, move people off of the ball effortlessly, and kick harder than Mia Hamm.  I'd usually get pissed after a girl would do something unfair to me, like pull my shirt to keep me from making a play, or elbow me in the ribs when the ref wasn't looking.  My dad always used to see these things, and he would always yell, "PLAY PISSED, BETH!!  PLAY PISSED!!!"  With those words, a fire was ignited, a rage took over me, and I became unstoppable.  So now, I will play pissed.  I will push, I will fight, I will out lift, out sprint, and out shine everyone else.  I will come in harder, leaner, better.  And I will win.