6 weeks…we missed a few
She said…
I am so nervous as I begin to type this. Not because I don’t want to share what has taken place over these last 8 weeks, but because Vince is sitting directly across from me, so excited by the content he is about to produce that exposes the emotional roller coaster that has been a constant presence during this prep, not unlike Bell Zettifar’s internal war with his own emotions in the Rising Storm…that’s right, I made a Star Wars reference.
In my first entry, I referenced that the comparison and self doubt that usually settles in around the 6 week out mark for me had already begun. Well friends…let me tell you the dark path that took! As I began to type out all of the things that I either said out loud to family, or internally to myself, I realized how difficult my own thought process is to follow. My belief in myself somehow disappeared and was replaced with this constant voice in my head telling me I’m not ready, I won’t be ready and I should just give up. When I get this way, I go dark. I focus on the things I know I can do (i.e.: Work, clean, sleep), and pull away from everything else. This includes friends, social media posts, and updates to this blog.
I didn’t know what to say, I was embarrassed and disappointed in myself and wasn’t sure how I was going to pull out of this funk. I never stopped working out, or following my meal plan, but I just wasn’t seeing the changes I felt I should be seeing 14, 10, 8 weeks out, and time simply was not on my side. After many (read too many) conversations with Vince, my trainers and Vince again, and maybe one or two tears…I decided to focus on my goal and trust that I will get where I need to be, and try to enjoy the journey. I know I’ve said this before, (and thank you to all of my friends who apparently have the memory of elephants who remind me I said this last time), but…this will be my last season competing.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Bodybuilding as a sport, I thrive on the dedication and commitment it takes to get to the stage and find comfort in working towards a goal that I know will push me to my limits, and some days even beyond. There is however, more in my life that I want to do that doesn’t support the lifestyle required to compete. I want to travel with Vince, enjoy last minute weekend date nights out, eat birthday cake with my kids, and be with them as they reach their own goals and celebrate their success (shout out to Emily going to Worlds to compete in Florida in 4 weeks!!!!!). I love bodybuilding, and I will continue to incorporate it into my lifestyle, but it will play more of a supporting role in the future. You know, more like Neville Longbottom vs Harry Potter. (one Star Wars reference was enough).
Anyhoo, back to prep…we are 6 weeks out from WNBF Vancouver, and 10 weeks out from Winnipeg. My excitement is growing, as my energy is depleting. The cardio has increased, and the macros have taken a nasty nose dive, but…this is what is required and I’m committed (and driven by) the process. I have started to have prep brain moments that include turning on the oven to cook my ground beef on the stove, and wondering why after 10 minutes, it hasn’t started to brown, and washing clothes multiple times as I forget to switch them from the washer to the dryer is now a daily occurrence. (although, to be fair, I did this well before prep started too)
I am competing in the Figure Open and Figure Master class. You may be thinking Master class? That’s pretty hard core! Well, it’s simply because I’m old, and this is the name of my age class. You can however feel free to refer to me as ‘Master G’ if you’d like. It has a nice ring to it, and I’ve always wanted that as a nickname. The figure class is not as muscular as bodybuilding, but a harder (muscle) look than bikini. At this point in prep, I’m focused on losing excess fat while preserving as much muscle as I can in a deficit. If you are interested in the judging criteria of the figure class, I can go into more details in a later blog, but for today, I will leave you with this:
No one is motivated each and every day. When you lack motivation, rely on your discipline. When discipline isn’t enough, remain determined. And in the darkest days, when you feel like giving up, surround yourself with people whose belief in you inspires you to keep pushing forward. My circle may be small, but it is powerful.
I’m trying to figure out a way to end this blog on a light note, so I will just say this; I have no idea what Vince has written, but I am confident that at least 26% of it is false. I am a gem, and super easy to live with in prep…at least from my perspective.
He Said…
A wise man named Obi-Wan Kenobi once said, “Luke, you're going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.”
“We missed a few”? Missing a few is what you say when you’ve picked up the chocolate chips after spilling them on the counter and you find a couple. Missing a few is what you’ve done when you find a couple of extra matching socks in the lonely sock bin.
We missed more than a few, boys and girls. And we’re not sorry. At all. Not even a bit.
Now, that’s not the typical approach that anyone should take when trying to build an audience and maintain viewers and followers to your blog. BUT YOU WEREN’T HERE! YOU HAVE NO IDEA!! YOU DON’T KNOW THE HORRORS WE’VE SEEN!!!
Actually we’ve just been really busy. But you haven’t missed much and I can give you the run-down on the prep adventure really quick, as follows (no names to protect the individuals):
Week 13: This was a week of fish. Lots of fish, lots of complaining about not liking fish. At this point it was recommended that someone ask for an alternative.
Week 12: Let’s try different fish instead of tuna and salmon because these aren’t someone’s favourite and she keeps forgetting to take servings out of the freezer. Again, maybe ask for a change. Existential crisis commences. Average bedtime: 9:45pm.
Week 11: This is the moment I realized that we now have half of a freezer filled with various types of fish because someone wanted to try different fish and didn’t want mercury poisoning but ultimately decided to ask her food coach for something different and of course she said yes. Average bedtime: 9:30pm.
Week 10: Existential crisis and comparison with other competitors. Average bedtime: 9:15pm.
Week 9: Comparison with self commences and existential crisis continues but now we’re thinking that Fit Body just “isn’t for me” and honestly that’s a fantastic decision. Focus on Figure and kicks it’s ass. Average bedtime: 9:00pm.
Week 8: Ah yes, the week of “I’m quitting and I hate everything but at least I don’t have to eat fish” silver lining playbook. If there’s anything that keeps a competitor motivated, it’s the fact that they don’t have to eat fish. Oh! And cardio. Lots of new and exciting cardio. With techno music. Lots of motivational techno music. Average bedtime: 9:00pm but only to try and be respectful.
Week 7: Suit fitting and panic from suit fitting along with a dash of self-doubt and reflecting on past photographs and a sprinkle of “Hey did you want to do this HIIT workout with–” NO. Average bedtime: “I’m going to read in bed.”
And here we are six weeks out from the Vancouver show and ten from Winnipeg. You’ve missed nothing… And know that when Gillian reads that sentence she’s gonna go full panic-mode. You’re welcome.
Here’s the sitch this week, though, and I promise you I’m working on something special for the rest of the stretch. This week our happy little contender has been blessed with a 600 calorie deficit d-a-i-l-y. Yes, you read that correctly. 1,300 calories, two bouts of cardio and six weight workouts a week. I don’t envy her at all and let’s be honest, I don’t even envy myself. It’s getting real.
I actually laughed when Gillian made her dinner last night and measured out the pittance of chicken that was allotted to the meal. Remember that scene in Mickey and the Beanstalk where Mickey is slicing the bean at the beginning for Donald and Goofy to share and it’s paper thin and they all just kind of look at their portions and collectively get more sad? Yeah. That.
But when credit is due–I must first ridicule and since I’ve done that, let me follow it up with the simple fact that the level of dedication, effort and commitment (paired with existential crisis management) from my wife continues to impress and inspire.
Six more weeks of pretending that my own meals taste like cardboard and that the recipe “seems a little off”.
Six more weeks of saying that this scotch is a real let-down.
Six more weeks of eating ice cream out of the container in front of Gillian because why bother using a bowl because it’s not like she’s going to eat any of it.
Stay tuned, boys and girls. It’s about to get fun!
-v
14 Weeks out
She said…
What can change in two weeks? It turns out, quite a bit! I’m sitting here, at the start of yet another Winnipeg snow storm, grateful for the gym in my basement that allowed me to get my workout in, away from the threat of the freezing rain and blowing snow. Why do I live here again?
The idea of this blog was to give insight into prep life from both the athlete’s and their partner’s perspective. What I have come to realize over the past two weeks is that this is really an opportunity to detail all of the random, ridiculous things that come out of my mouth on any given day, as evidenced by Vince pulling out his phone and making a note to “keep that for the blog.” The joke’s on him though. I don’t have to be in prep to say stupid things…it just comes naturally!
In all seriousness though, the last two weeks have been a bit of a rollercoaster for me. I believe I referenced the mental struggle that sets in around the 6 week out mark? Well, it would seem that my brain has really kicked it up a notch, and I’ve begun to go down the wormhole of doubt much sooner than in my previous preps. I have seen an increasing number of social media posts of people competing this year, and it has caused some serious self doubt.
“They are already cutting?” “Look at her physique, she is gorgeous!” “Those shoulders are amazing!” “I don’t look like that.” “Ok, I’ve definitely put on muscle” “I can do this.” “Oh god…what am I doing, I’m not ready".
I have shared these thoughts with some people in my inner circle, and their logic is sound. I know what to expect this time around, so I’m looking for it. It makes sense. I know what is coming. I went into prep wanting to beat the 2019 version of myself. To compare pictures and see growth, and to look like I belong on stage with everyone else. So why do I bother comparing myself with them? It isn’t about them, right? It’s me. vs. me, and comparison is the thief of joy (thank you Theodore Roosevelt).
The previous statement is logic speaking, and I am not always logical. I want to push myself, to be the best that I can be, and to make my family proud. What if I step on stage and trip, and my shoe goes flying off, and I have to figure out how to recover, but there is not recovery. You may be thinking to yourself, that’s a weird fear to have…well, it’s happened before, it was a nightmare, and one that I would not like to re-live if at all avoidable!
So, for now, I am trying to focus on the things I have control of. Training, Nutrition and sleep. So let’s chat about that.
Training- well, my trainer hates me, and has hidden cardio throughout my workouts that really highlights my inability to breathe while exerting any level of effort. I legit tasted pennies last week when she had me doing a circuit that I’m sure was designed to cripple the strongest of humans.
Nutrition- remember the impeding threat of fish??? Well…it’s back! Salmon and Tuna for the next 28 days. Buckle up Vince!
Sleep- this is an area that actually is going pretty well. A little too well some days. I made it until 8:57 last night, and was quite proud of myself, until 11:30pm came around and my dog decided to just poop on the carpet beside our bed, and just looked at me like “Well what do you want me to do about it. Have you seen the snow out there? Would you poop outside with winds whipping at your butt and snow blowing so violently, creating an ice-cold bidet brought to you by mother nature? I think not!”
Overall, things are going pretty well. I’m hitting all my workouts, getting in 100% of my meals and trying to just sit in the now, and avoid focusing on things that sit outside of my control. May is coming sooner than I anticipated (current weather situation aside), and I am determined to crush 2019 Gillian!
He said…
Ok, before I start I have to grab my notebook. Yes, I take notes as the level of emotional abuse that I take during prep tends to push events from my mind and I just cannot keep up. If you know me, you’ll know that’s a joke.
If you follow us on Instagram (and you should) you’ll notice that I like to live dangerously. Most recently I fired a shot over the bow, so-to-speak, in what can be referred to as “pancake warfare”. Gillian had made her meal prep “protein vomit-cakes” as a part of her breakfast so I decided that pancakes ought to be part of my own wonderful Saturday morning breakfast. Homemade, fluffy AF, and potentially the best pancakes this side of your Gramma’s house (I dare not challenge the baking prowess of any grandmother).
Now you might be thinking, “Why would you do something like this? Didn’t you learn not to poke the bear??” And to answer you, I’ll say, “No.” My middle name is ‘Danger’ and making homemade pancakes 15 weeks out from competition, even though the cut had yet to start, garnered a scowl that someone in this relationship will deny ever happened. But we all know that in 6-7 weeks it’s gonna come up.
The following Monday, after a long day at work I had come home with our son and had started to make dinner. Liam is a growing boy that needs good, home-cooked food to help his development and athletic goals. Naturally, my goal is to help him succeed. As he crawls up the stairs around 6:00-6:30pm (typical dinner time), starving and needing food, I have only sad news. Dinner isn’t ready yet. Now, dear reader, you might ask yourself, “If he’s such a great parent and so concerned with his child’s well-being, then what is the hold-up?”
Well, let me tell you about the meal prep bully that is my wife. Gillian had run out of potatoes and demanded that the air fryer (the chosen method for her son’s meal) be relinquished and that her prep work be prioritized. She’s a monster.
The next weekend (Sunday), after what I am led to believe was the most brutal, demanding and taxing Saturday workout ever completed, poor Gillian was so tired, while standing next to a blanket, demanded that I fetch her that very same blanket. This wasn’t a joke. There was fire in her tired eyes.
The story thus far is, as you may imagine, a little bit exaggerated. But I will make a few points that will come straight from the hip—just like when Han shot Greedo.
It’s fish season. We went to Costco and bought up enough fish to choke a bear; a nice mix of tuna and salmon, as per the notes in Gillian’s latest update on the meal plan. Gillian proceeds to make her dinner on Sunday—a tuna steak in the air fryer—and after taking one bite, dumps the entire serving in the garbage, exclaiming “This is disgusting.” Admittedly, something went wrong in her cooking method. I’m not sure if it was because she cooked it from frozen, over cooked it so that the outside was rubber and the inside was still cold, or what… Mysteries are abound.
If having one meal plan in the home wasn’t enough, our daughter has now jumped on the bandwagon. Shopping for two sets of specific foods is my favourite part of the weekend (ask Gillian how many bunches of kale you can force into a plastic bag) and losing an additional 42% of the space in the fridge has been less than ideal.
There’s a lot of teasing that goes on in our home and it’s all out of love and support; it’s an effort to keep the mood light and distract each other from the potential downfall of self-sabotage. The phase of “look at this girl that is competing against me” has started and I hate to admit I’ve trash-talked each and every one of them. But to the balance of the competitors, I respect your efforts and sacrifices throughout your journey. But when I have to get my girl motivated, you’re clearly cheating and there’s something wrong with your biceps—I can’t put my finger on it, but you’ll never place higher than 8th. But, you know… With respect.
If you don’t hear from me in the next week or two, look for freshly disturbed snow in the neighbouring yard. I’ll be buried there.
As always, I’m full of it and the last two weeks haven’t been bad at all. Liam and I will be fine but thoughts and prayers are welcomed in the coming weeks.
Also, Greedo shot first.
-V
The Prep Chronicles- 16 weeks out
She said…
WEEK 3
Well, here we are, 16 weeks out from the WNBF Vancouver show, and 20 out from WNBF Winnipeg. When the itch to compete again became more of a constant, I started dropping comments to Vince to get his input. There were questions that needed to be considered. Is it the right time? Can we commit to this? Do we really want to go through a prep again?
His response, “If it’s something you want to do to, do it! I’m behind you.” This is not a surprise for any of our readers that know Vince. He is unwaveringly supportive and one of the greatest hype people you can have in your corner. Through his ever supportive commentary, I can’t help but appreciate that his inner-voice was likely saying…”Ugh…no!” paired with flashbacks of the emotional rollercoaster we all went on, whether we bought tickets to the ride or not!
Even with his support, there were a lot of things to consider. Work, the kids activities, time with Vince, my social life.
So how did I end up here today? Easy, drunk registration one early December evening…(kidding). Once I have decided I want something, it’s really difficult for me to walk away from it without it constantly nagging at me, challenging me to take on the task and prove to myself I can do it. And, to be honest, I never really had a social life. A trip to Costco once a week does not a socialite make.
Prep isn’t just about the athlete. Bodybuilding is a selfish sport. It’s true. You spend hours in the gym each week, your diet is even more important than the weight you lift, and has to be incredibly dialed in to achieve success. The final 4-6 weeks of prep is where you see the mental struggle set in. It isn’t an easy process for the athlete, or their families.
I’ve painted quite the picture here. My intent is not to make contest prep sound horrible, it isn’t. But I do want to be honest. It’s hard, but, it should be. It’s also an incredible opportunity to push yourself and commit to a process that takes you out of your comfort zone, and, I love it.
So how is it going so far? Well, I’m 3 weeks into prep and can confirm the following:
1) I really miss Swedish Berries
2) No alcohol isn’t really an issue, but it’s -82 outside, so I’m not really itching for a cold one just yet
3)I’m trying to stay positive to limit the material Vince has to write about in his section of the blog
4) #3 is really hard some days
5) I really do miss Swedish Berries
My food is still plentiful, so I’m not hangry…yet. Well, at least from my perspective anyway.
He Said…
Well, here we are. At the precipice of one of two things:
A fantastically hilarious blog that shows the perspectives of “supportive husband” and “competition-preparing wife”, or;
A step-by-step guide to destroying a perfectly wonderful relationship.
Truth be told, I’m really gunning for option #1. It’s too early to tell and Gillian still has a lot of food options, a reward meal each week and the option to put back a nice rum, scotch or glass of patience. So the footing is good.
The last couple of weeks have been a walk in the park, to be honest. Nothing much to complain about and there isn’t any cardio routine happening at the crack of dawn so my current alarm clock doesn’t sound like hardcore rap. Yet.
There isn’t even much to blog about other than setting the stage for the weeks to come. Neither of us are drinking but it’s early and I’m not overly interested in keeping this up for the duration of the next six months. I have two cabinets that are overflowing with wonderful whiskies, tantalizing tequilas and some majestic mezcal. Granted we normally only have two or three drinks a week so I’m not really missing anything at this point.
Gillian and I do not eat the same food. I don’t know that we’ve been on the same plan for a long time now that I think about it. There is the odd meal that we would share but I gave up counting calories and measuring portions a long time ago. In fact, I laughed to myself when Gillian tossed 0.28 grams of chicken back in the container while she made her lunch today.
Meal prep work is always a tad more fun when you’re a spectator. Gillian’s plain-Jane diet would be painful to the average person and in the coming weeks it will become more and more… fishy, if I recall correctly. I love fish, but there’s only so much I can handle. Oh gosh. The smell of the house… This place is going to smell like a coastal city market.
But I’ll focus on now. Things are good. The two of us still sit together and watch shows (down the road Gillian will be either doing cardio or sleeping); there are no signs of ‘hangry’-wife as the food is plentiful (down the road Gillian will become enraged with limited amounts of food)… You know what? I’m gonna end this here. The more I blabber on the closer I come to being prematurely tossed into a Sarlacc pit.
And you thought I’d finish a blog without a Star Wars reference…