Competition morning. Things are moving fast. As soon as I get my tan on, the expeditor shouts out, “Middleweights!” My first thought, “Almond Joy!” It’s a tradition. I rifle through my bag for pre-workout. No shaker! I eat a dry scoop of high octane powder, and a mouthful of water. I swish and gulp without a shiver. Within seconds, George and I are pumping up.
The middleweight line up is stacked with little jacked dudes. Under 5’6” is ideal. I’m five inches over ideal. 13 thick muscle machines, built like R2D2 and me, C3P0. But looking at the conditioning of the other competitors, I still think it’s possible to squeak into the top five. I'm hoping my symmetry, conditioning, and good posing will make up for my lankiness.
We step onto the freight elevator, like gladiators descending to the arena. (Minus the swords, plus the elevator.) The Niacin Jeff gave me to make my veins pop kicks in and I feel my face burning up. I should have only taken one! I ask George if I’m red. He laughs and says “Holy spit! Beet red!” My skin is on freaking fire and I feel like picking a fight!
We step to the line under blinding lights. I’ve never been more fired up to pose. We quarter turn and the judges shuffle us to the side of the stage without a chance to perform our mandatories. “Chopped liver please move to the side of the stage” is how I heard it.
George steps to the line in front of me. They turn and he faces me. I remind him to hit his glutes. They tighten up. He turns to the side, “suck it in”. He sucks tighter. I make it my job to coach him on the stage. I’m so caught up watching him, I forget to squeeze my legs, until I notice a judge eyeballing me, and I tighten up. When it’s my turn on the line, George coaches me back. I’m sure the judges and other competitors think we're wacky. But the tag team moment will be a fun memory.
I barely get a second look from the judges. The short, thick dudes with cannon ball shoulders are the victors. George is much tighter than one week ago at the state show. His posing is stellar and it earns him a 4th place trophy. A great accomplishment for the Emerald Cup. Jeff also wins a few hard earned trophies from his divisions.
After pre-judging I’m sitting on the steps outside, licking my wounds. A spectator I met earlier, James, approaches me and with intensity and says, “I just wanted you to know that YOU LOOKED F***ING AWESOME UP THERE!!!” He says it with more sincerity than I’ve ever received in a compliment. He and his wife are convinced I deserve first place. They were impressed with my symmetry and proportions above anyone on stage. Imagine that. I wish James and his wife were on the judging panel!
His compliments made my day. Not because he said I looked good, but he said I inspired him. He has never done a show, but is planning on doing one this year. And seeing me up there polished and peeled made him want to work hard to bring his body in polished for the show. He had an inspiring "I can do this" moment.
I'm appreciative that James took the time to seek me out and tell me how he saw it from where they sat. He is an average Joe like me. Isn’t it awesome that the guy who placed near the bottom, unknowingly has the power to inspire someone in the crowd! Don't get me wrong, I want a trophy, but to inspire others has power and meaning far beyond a trophy. We exchanged info and James is probably reading this blog about himself. Thanks James! And good luck at the Seven Feathers Classic!
In a nutshell, I find it highly worthwhile to pursue goals, connect with people, and inspire others to grow. Every one of us will inspire people just by GOING FOR IT! Whatever that thing may be. We never know who is watching, and how we might be the example that inspires them. The more people I connect with in this amateur bodybuilding world, the more I am inspired! Because it is average Joes and Janes, men and women who purposefully put themselves on a path to excellence! Nobody gets there by accident.