Best in Show

In the end, what a day it was.  April 9, 2011.  The day I participated in a fitness competition.

What started as a lark, as almost a personal dare, back in November, turned out to be a journey of self-discovery, discipline, bravery, and arrival. 

At age 41, I showed up on that stage with my head held high.  There was no Master’s category (i.e. for old people).  Just a bunch of women, as fit as they can be.  Plus a lot of hair and make-up and spray tan.  Franky, I could have done without all that stuff.  It would have suited me better to show up in my volleyball shorts and do some jumping jacks and burpees for the judges.  But there doesn’t seem to be any competitions out there like that.  Yet. 

But the journey of getting really fit?  Of finding discipline and drive and dedication to push myself like I’d never done before?  Of owning, fine-tuning, and claiming my body? That part I loved.

The best thing I can do is show you some pictures.  My story of what it means to me and how it all fits into my fitness journey is still brewing.  That may take some time to settle. 

After the athlete’s meeting in the morning, there was time for general hanging around. 

You don't mind if I practice, do you?

Eventually it was time to get my “uniform” on.  My friends Sandy and Donloree were dream-tan, butt-slapping experts.  I miraculously turned a slightly scary shade of glowing orange/brown.  Apparently without this stuff, under the stage lights you’d be a glowing white orb with no discernible features.  And I’m a glowing white orb at the best of times. 

These girls are experts

Seriously, if those girls hadn’t been with me, I would have stood around looking confused most of the day.

They eventually lined us all up backstage.  As I stood in the line, I realized it was too late to turn back.  I was so nervous I almost peed. 

 

I'm up first? Are you kidding me?

 But the door opened, the stage guy waved me on, and I started up the stairs to the stage…

Enter stage left.

And the rest, as they say, was history…

Aaaand, here I am

 

Wait. Look. There's more of us.

 

And we turn around on command. Hang on, this is like a dog show. Why have Eugene Levy and Christopher Guest not made a movie about this stuff?

 I saw my husband in the crowd.  That made me pretty happy.   

Yes, I am actually doing this.

 

5th Place!

And then it was a wrap. The end of an exhilarating, extraordinary, crazy adventure of a day. 

And I gotta tell you, when it was over I have never been so happy to down a litre of water and cram some food in my face in my life.  I felt like a million bucks.  But a million tired, thirsty, hungry bucks.  I was pretty proud and pretty happy.  But I couldn’t wait to get home.  And start the scrub down to get that orange sh*t off me. 

When we got home, my husband had my treat meal waiting.  It wasn’t even really a meal.  It was cake.  A meal of heavenly chocolate cake.  I’d been planning on this guy for a lot of months.  My husband picked it up from the Purple Perk.  We sat at the kitchen counter at 11:00 p.m. and ate it out of the box with two forks and two big glasses of milk.  Totally glorious.  And I may or may not have eaten a second whole slice the next day. 

And I’ll leave you with this…

The mother of all cakes

Nutrition stats.  Calories:  a ga-jillion.  Carbs: don’t care. Fat: seven tonnes.  Protein: like none.

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