Let's go to school; my body and how I view it vs. other's opinions

So I'm one of those skinny folks in the world that doesn't like being reminded that I'm skinny. In fact, as I've gotten older, I hate it. Just like (I really don't like using this word) fat people generally don't like being called fat, I don't like to be called skinny. I look at my body everyday, lived in this thin skin for 29 years so I kinda know how I look by now. I don't need a constant reminder. But I had to look at the people that were dishing out the reminders. People who weren't happy in their own thick skin. Yeah, I said it. Now, I can make fun of myself; I know my body, the quirks & things that generally make me look odd. Other people doing it though, I can't say I love it too much. I think it's because the place that some people come from with their criticism is a mean spirited place to tear and/or wear me down. Criticism is ok but coming from people that don't have to live with the results OR aren't happy with their own selves so they take it out on people who are happy with themselves and their bodies is comical but sad. Why put me down? If I haven't said anything negative about your body why say anything about mine? And if you're not happy with your body why take it out on me? Here's a tip, honey boo boo: do something about it!

I've decided, rather than tear down these individuals as they tried to do me, I would educate them, take them to school. I can show better than I can tell, so I decided to turn what they tried to deem as ugly, awkward and negative into something beautiful and positive. And look at me now! I'm healthy and I'm in fitness modeling, and my "skinny" body is actually appealing to some people. Who knew right?

I don't want this to sound like an angry post or come off as condescending and braggadocios. It's more of a teaching tool. You have no idea how long I've had to live with people who have told me my skinny-self wasn't much and I needed to eat more meat. Well, I do eat but I eat healthy and in moderation. 

At the end of the day, I use all criticism to push and motivate myself that much harder. I never thought I would become a teacher but I guess I am. It's a grueling job and my pay may not seem all that great but my reward is turning the ignorant into conscious believers. Life is a lesson and class is definitely in session. 

When will the aching stop?

I've been working out non-stop for roughly a year.  Before then, my workouts consisted of an aerobic class here, a yoga class there, pole dancing to spice it up and kick boxing, just to throw in a little variety.  Nothing ever stuck.  But once I turned my life over to complete fitness and decided I needed to workout on a more consistent basis, I hired a trainer and got serious.  At that time, I didn't have enough motivation to workout myself, so getting a trainer seemed to be the most logical thing to do.  I knew my body would ache for awhile because I was just starting out and my trainer felt I could take it because of my boyish frame and athletic build (giggle).  There would be days where my arms wouldn't move.  They would lock at the joints and my muscles were extremely tight.  Other days my legs were weak as water and I had a hitch in my giddy-up.  It literally felt like my body ached from my eye lids to my toenails.  As the weeks went by and my body became more susceptible to the workouts, the aches and pains gradually wore off.

Now that I'm in fitness modeling, the workouts are more grueling, intense and rigorous.  The days where my arms were unmovable and I wreaked of Tiger Balm were upon me once again.  I couldn't figure it out.  I thought since I was becoming more fit and active that I wouldn't have to feel as much pain as I did when I first began working out.  But I realized that I've only been doing this a year and the weights my trainer put on me were increasing. Nonetheless, Tiger Balm is readily by my bedside and I stay soaking in a hot bath on those particular days. 

I couldn't help but think, so this is what it's like to be an athlete? It hurts like hell but I guess if I'm going to be a part of this life the aching won't stop for a while.  I think I can get used to that.  It hurts so good, but I would never tell my trainer...

Allow me this one moment; reflecting on my motivation in fitness modeling

I think the reason I want to succeed so much at fitness modeling is because never in my life have I had something that I was truly great at.  I never had anyone praise me for anything besides scholastics and writing, and even then I never really received accolades and true admiration for it.  This, fitness modeling, is something that I can say I stepped out of my comfort zone for and succeeded, or at least feel as though I can go all the way.  I've always wanted to be great at something, always wanted to succeed at something.  Always wanted something that I didn't have to share with someone that just belonged to me.  Something my parents could tell our family and their friends that, beyond college, their daughter did this and it made them proud.  Right now, all they can honestly say they're proud of is that I graduated at the top of my high school and undergrad class and received my masters degree.  I'm not doing all of this for anyone but myself but I can't help but think I'm doing this for all the underdogs of the world, the ones that are too scared to step outside the box and try something different because of what people will think or say about them, the voiceless and unmotivated that need someone to carry the torch.  Well, if I am that sacrificial lamb, so be it.  I just want to succeed.  I just want to be great.  To me, it's more than just my body that is on display.  It's my heart.  Underneath all the glow of the lights, the hair, mounds of makeup, the spray tan, and oil covering my body, I want my inner-self to shine through so they, the judges and everyone else viewing me, can see that there's more to me than what they're seeing on stage.

I just had to get that off my chest......

I am who I am...period; refusing to conform for a sport despite the competition

I can't change who I am.  I've been this way since day one.  I'm a little weird, I have a somewhat awkward build to my body, I love to laugh, I love having fun and I refuse to conform to certain standards people have set to succeed at something.  I know the last part sounds like an endless rant carved out of a movie or dramatic television show but it's the truth.  Many people don't know this about me but I never felt accepted in any circle.  I always felt like the odd man out, the loopy one, the one who always did things just a little bit differently then everyone else.  That's true, no denying that.  I'm ok with not fitting or being accepted in any circle now.  Truth is, while I may be the odd man out I'm at least the one trying to obtain something and not trying to fit into a circle, and enjoying myself in the process.

People seem to have my life planned out for me.  Go to college, go to graduate school, get a good job, get married, have children.  I've always done what others have expected of me and when it comes right down to it, I wasn't enjoying myself. I was determined to shut everyone's mouth and just do what I wanted to do, no matter how unconventional or out of the box it may seem.  This is why I chose to do fitness modeling.

This is a completely new journey, something I never expected nor saw myself doing.  But I figured, while I have the body, the legs, the energy and gravity on my side why not go for it?  I love trying out new things, just to see what I'm good at, and not caring one way or the other about other people's opinion.  So many times I've stopped myself from doing something because of what others may have thought about it.  But then I realized, if I can accept people for who they are and what they do, I should be too.  After doing a couple of shows and telling a few people what I'm doing with fitness modeling and seeing and hearing the ignorance, I had to stop wanting people to accept it because the more they talked the more detached I became from them.  They were slowly becoming unglued from my world and I didn't want to shut everyone out completely, like my parents, for example, who don't necessarily agree with this. 

Even in doing fitness modeling I have found there are certain things that one should do in order to be included in the circle.  Cardio 2-3 times a week, eat rice cakes with peanut butter, eat every 3 hours, meal plan for the entire week, pump your body full of vitamins and supplements, and drink gallons upon gallons of water.  I eat right, I exercise regularly.  I take supplements and I do everything that my body allows me to do.  But I don't do everything that is "required".  For instance, I hate peanut butter, I can never remember to take pills, even if I have an alarm set; my body cannot handle eating every 3 hours and while I love drinking water, drinking 2-3 gallons of it makes me want physically ill.  Does this make me less of a fitness model?  Do the awards and recognition I've received so far mean nothing now?  I don't think so.  One thing that was left off the fitness modeling requirement list is to have fun, which is what I do. 

At the end of the day, this is a hobby of mine, something that is out of the norm and the one thing in my entire life that has fulfilled me.  I may not fit in the "fitness circle" either and after years of experience of not fitting in circles, I'm ok with that.  I don't need to conform and fit into a specific group to feel accepted.  I'm doing what makes me feel happy and not changing for anybody and that is how I intend to succeed.  Period.

Stress is for sissies...take it out in the gym!!

If stress is for sissies, I'm one of the biggest sissies in the world.  When I'm stressed, it seems as if the whole world is pressing on my shoulders and I can't do anything about it.  When it's there, it seems to hang until it tires itself out and I can finally relax and get peace, but that comes at a price.

My first fitness modeling competition was a disaster.  First off, I didn't want to do the show.  I was actually talked into doing it by my trainer and my coach.  I decided to go through with it anyway because it would be good "exposure", whatever that means.  Needless to say, I was stressed beyond recognition.  Not only did I feel as if I didn't have everything ready for the show (bikini bite, supplement intake, hair done, makeup, suit, hotel reservations, tan, need I go on??) I had an even bigger issue to deal with in the form of mother nature and her monthly "check-in".  I tried explaining all of this to my trainer, who happens to be a male, and he looked at me as if I had 12 heads.  Why couldn't he understand what I was going through and why I was lashing out the way that I was?  Because he's a man and they don't understand anything.  Simple as that.  Hormones raging, nerves jumping, pressure raising; this was the perfect storm.  Needless to say, I was devastated and angry.  I was heavy, puffy, sloshy, and did I mention STRESSED?!  But there was nothing I could do at that point but deal with it.  I no longer had control over the situation.  The only thing I could do was get one thing done at a time, ignore my trainer for the moment, and find some inner peace to get through the weekend.  I learned from that instance what I needed to do if I was ever faced with a difficult situation like that again.

When I'm stressed, I have a tendency to get very anxious and everything I can think of comes tumbling down on me and, for the moment, I lose control.  I felt this very recently right before my third competition.  The stressed started at work and spilled into the one place I get relieved from stress, the gym. My iron therapy, as it's so aptly called, was not working.  The stress continued to mount each time someone tried to "make me feel better".  I tried holding it together because I didn't want the effects of my stress and aggravation to be an all out shouting match.  I remained calm and held it together as long as I could but I still didn't feel better.  I rushed through the workouts only to be more aggravated.  I was crumbling.  Self-doubt began to weigh on me about my next show and how well I would do and look and everything else I could think of that would add more pressure fell on me.  Finally, I said enough is enough.  This is ridiculous.  That night, I sipped my dandelion root tea, said a few prayers, and went to sleep, with hopes that everything would smooth over the next day.  And it did.

Stress is a beast. It's not fun when you're going through it, but coming through that storm is the greatest feeling.  A sense of relief and peace is restored and you feel complete again, regaining all control that was inevitably lost during your sissy rant.  When I feel I don't have everything together for my competitions, I use everything around me to build my stress and it begins taking a toll on my body and my performance.  I didn't realize until this last competition.  This is probably the most difficult situation I've had to undergo since graduate school, and because I feel as if there is no one I can go to that will hear and understand what I'm going through (besides the people who are also fitness models and coaches) it makes it that much harder.  That's why it's so important to have support going through this and thick skin.  Nonetheless, this stress thing is just something that I have to work through if I ever plan on getting to the top and getting any better.  I have to hold it together, somehow, and not lose control in the process.  How can I call myself a fitness model then act like a sissy?  Last time I checked, sissies didn't have defined muscles and washboard abs...I'm just saying.

The turtle in my belly; downside to lifting heavy with my body

The little knot right above my belly piercing is the turtle head.

What would you think if you saw a tiny knot poking from your belly, at the very top of your navel region?  Some would immediately think there's a problem and to rush to the emergency room.  Others would try nursing it or research what the issue may be then call their family doctor to schedule an appointment.  Me, I'd look at it and say, "I have a turtle head poking out of my belly!"  This strange yet proud exclamation shouldn't be taken lightly.  I was concerned for all of two minutes while I carried on a lengthy conversation with my friend on the phone.  At one point, I thought, hernia, but dismissed it because I didn't know enough about a hernia to lay claim to that notion.  So I continued yelling out "I have a turtle head poking out of my belly!" to my friend, who wasn't sure what to say at that moment.    

When the pain persisted I called the people I knew would have the answer to my problem, my parents.  Neither one have gone to medical school nor have had any formal training in the field of medicine, but they'd know what to do to make the pain go away, at least until I spoke to a medical professional.  I was told to eat something, take a hot shower, rub some alcohol on my belly and keep still.  A trained medical professional probably wouldn't agree with my parents methods but it worked for the time being.  I asked if they thought it might be a hernia and they said possibly but I should make an appointment to be on the safe side.  I knew they'd know what to do. 

The turtle head went in his shell and for the next few days I felt fine.  Until,  one night during one of my intense workouts (by intense I mean heavy lifting and lots of complaining) the turtle poked his little head out again.  This time, I was lucky enough to have a physician in the gym working out as well.  What are the odds of that happening?  She felt around and assessed it to be what I thought all along, a hernia.  I scheduled an appointment for the following week and was told it was a possible umbilical hernia due to physical strain.  I explained to my doctor that I was now in fitness modeling and my workouts consisted of heavy weight lifting.  I was told I needed to slow down.  My body couldn't handle that much strain and that if I continued I would eventually have to have surgery. Stop.  He had me at surgery.  I wasn't about to go through that.  Fitness modeling is cool and all but not worth having surgery over.   

My trainer decided to slow down on the workouts, giving me more reps with less weights.  Still intense but he gets a little more creative so that I don't lose all the muscle I gained.  I made an agreement with the turtle that I won't strain as long as he didn't bring on the pain.  He complied and has kept his little head back in his shell, for now.

Wherever my toes go, I follow....except on stage

I can stand perfectly erect, chin up, chest out, hands at my sides, knees pointing as forward as they can (they're the knobbiest looking knees you'd ever care to see).  My feet, on the other hand face each other.  That's right, I'm pigeon-toed.  I'm a solid 5'8, all legs, small torso, boyish body, athletic build, the tiniest ankles practically in the world, freakishly long arms, sticks for legs and size 10 feet.  Add the fact that I am pigeon-toed to all of that and you have a very interesting looking specimen. I never thought it was such a big deal until I became self-conscious about my outward appearance and how the rest of the world saw me.  If I saw myself like this, what did everyone else see? 

My workouts are quite comical, to say the least.  I often take pictures of myself working out in the gym and post them on Instagram or Facebook and notice how I'm even pigeon-toed when I workout.  Lunges, step ups, squats, running on the treadmill, you name it.  If it's a workout that involves my feet and movement, please believe the toes are talking to each other.  I have tried to train my feet to be straighter, but it doesn't work. 

Normally, this is something that can or should be corrected when you're a child.  Clearly, it wasn't, so I'm dealing with it as a twenty-something year old adult.  All of the physicians I've talked to didn't see where it was a problem because it wasn't affecting my walk or posture.  But it was affecting me!  When I decided to do fitness modeling I said to myself, "how on earth are you planning on walking and standing straight on stage, in front of people, without your feet talking to each other?  The only thing I could think of was talking to myself, not out loud, to stand straight and appear as regal as I possibly can without looking clumsy.  Almost like people from other countries who sing but don't sing in the same voice as their native country (more popular and international songs world-wide, that is).  Any other day the toes lead and I follow.  But on that stage, I run the show.  I tell myself "suck in your stomach, smile, look at the judges, pose, smile, suck in your stomach, look at the judges, turn, pose, turn, smile, look at the judges, keep your feet straight, smile, keep smiling, pose (it hurts like hell but you're doing it right if it does), keep smiling, keep your feet straight, now walk off stage without tripping because all of your cool points will be lost." 

Once I'm off the stage and the lights are no longer shining on me, I'm back to following my toes.  Honestly, I don't know how that works but it does.  I swear, my life just can't be simple!