I remember two powerful moments from my first bodybuilding competition. Standing in a line of bodybuilders about to walk on stage was like squatting at the airplane door, strapped to my jump master and the door opens. I know what's coming. I want it, but I'm scared as hell! This was it! And I was ready! I knew inside there was nothing I would have done different. I had prepared to the best of my knowledge and ability. Training never slacked. I stayed true to my diet, short of nibbling a couple ears off the kids Teddy Grahams, but I had finally gone all the way with my biggest fitness goal, standing there at 4.25% bodyfat. It was an awesome feeling. I'll never forget it.
Posing on stage for the first time was 10x harder than I imagined. The combo of adrenaline, nervousness, and squeezing every single muscle so tight had me shaking like a fool. It surprised me! In seven long minutes, it was all over. "Great looking class." The judge said. That was our queue to exit the stage.
Walking off stage felt like a rockstar moment. I never imagined what a rush it would be! Adrenaline is my drug of choice. I've always loved it. This was akin to jumping out of an airplane or being 20 yards from a screaming bull elk with your bow drawn, shaking so bad because of one fear...blowing it! I didn't expect to like it so much. But it got me!
My memory was not of just being proud of myself, but I distinctly remember feeling proud of every competitor I was out there with. All of us put our bodies through some serious pain and effort to get there. They were just a bunch of my brothers working to become the best version of themselves too. That was pretty cool! I remember wanting to tell them I was proud of all of them. But I didn't. I just kept that to myself. I think I just puffed up my chest, flexed my lats and said, "Good job bro."