Tuesday, August 21, 2012
"That's my treadmill."
"Some slutwhorebag parked in my spot."
"He's on my bench and doing chest presses with bad form. I'm training for a show so he should move and let the real athletes use the equipment."
"She had the nerve to ask me what my diet is like. Doesn't she know I pay good money for that?"
"He's taking up my space to do a bunch of curls. I bet he's never even done a squat."
"She's fat, why is she even in the gym?"
SO F*CKING WHAT?!?!?! WHEN EXACTLY DID FITNESS BECOME JUST FOR THE FITNESS ELITE????
I am so tired of the elitist attitude I've seen/heard in the gym as well as bragged about on social media. People are actually proud of the snobby attitude they've developed. Really? We all had to start somewhere. We were all a little lost, a little overwhelmed, a little intimidated at first. We weren't born knowing proper form. The knowledge of nutrition we learn in school growing up is minimal... you know in environment that now considers pizza a vegetable..
because it has tomato sauce in it...
even though tomatoes are actually fruit...
What was I talking about? Oh yeah! Sharing. The gym is not YOURS. The space is not yours. The weights are not yours. That treadmill or stair master is not yours - even if you may use the same one 29 days out of the month if someone else gets on that damn machine at your usual time it doesn't make them a bad person. If someone isn't in great shape why do you question why they're at the gym? They're there TRYING to make themselves better! Why not walk by and say hi? Tell them you've noticed they've been working hard. MAKE THEIR EXPERIENCE MORE COMFORTABLE AND INVITING! Keep them coming back! Make a difference!
I'm not talking about the people who come there and sit on equipment just to talk on their phone or check out people. I'm talk about the people who are there legitimately trying. Bad form and all. They are TRYING. They deserve to be there. They have a right to be there. The gym is just as much theirs as it is yours.
People like they way you look, they come up and ask what your diet is like... and your response is to tell them you paid a lot of money for it. TRUE STORY. Yes you did. And most coaches make you sign a non-disclosure agreement as they should. No, you don't need to tell them your exact diet - it was custom made for you and likely wouldn't suit their specific needs anyway. But what you can do, is give them general knowledge! "I eat a lot of lean meats, veggies, complex carbs, healthy fats like almonds and avocado. Muscle Egg egg whites are ALWAYS stalked in my fridge! After I work out I have a 619 Muscle protein shake. Try the peanut butter, it's great!" See? Didn't give away my plan, gave them some tips. Gave them HOPE!
I'm a firm believer that knowledge isn't yours to keep, it's yours to share.
So help someone. Make a difference. Give some tips and pointers. LEARN TO SHARE!
Friday, August 17, 2012
Do you remember what your school cafeteria looked like? The tables all neatly arranged. Those little food trays? The almost too shiny freshly mopped floors that REEK of ammonia? And of course, the segregation. Every school cafeteria has a "cool kids table". The kids who dress nicer than everyone else, who seemingly always have something interesting and fun going on in their life, who can make your day by asking you to borrow a pencil because OH MY GOD that means they know you exist! That table is the topic of conversation, everyone dreams of getting invited to sit there.
And then there are kids like me.
The little nerd girl sitting alone silently picking at her sandwich, occupying the last 6 inches of bench, rarely even looking up from the table.
That concept DOES NOT GO AWAY. You'll see that in offices, and for me - in the fitness world. In the southern California competition circuit, there is a very obvious cool kids table. They're at every show either competing or watching one of the other "cool kids" dominate their height class, who do not accept anything other than first place as being a success. They're the ones who pop up in just about every picture taken at shows, who have the largest cheering section of friends - and even people who have never even met them but have looked up to them for years, are constantly asked to shoot with the top photographers, who have a ton of sponsors, who have amazing parties to celebrate their victories.
And then there are competitors like me.
I show up to the competition, excited if I even place (which I haven't). My success is just even being able to get up on stage. I get excited if absolutely anyone is clapping for me. I have one sponsor who are some of the most AMAZING and supportive people you'll ever meet. After the show, I go home, alone, and shower and sleep. And then I always seem to get a message on Facebook the next day, from some girl who competed in her first show - thanking me for making her feel more comfortable and less out of place. And saying she looks forward to competing at another show with me in the future because I helped her have a fun and amazing experience.
And then I realize how much I don't want to sit at the cool kids table. I'm fine sitting at the end of the nerd table - because I'll always move over and let you sit next to me.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
I am HUNGRY!
You know that all consuming feeling? You try to distract your mind, but it just gravitates back to one though? You want it more than anything, more than the air you breathe? The kind of hungry that courses through your body, you can feel it in your bones, in your eyelashes, in your soul?
I am HUNGRY!
But not for food, I hunger for the stage. I hunger for the tired body, for the smelly spray tan, for the drag queen makeup, for the bikini that costs more than my car payment, for the bright lights, for the hundreds of pairs of eyes analyzing every inch of my body. I hunger for the adrenaline rush of stepping on that stage and strutting the body I spent years sculpting and months revealing.
I will make it happen.
I will stay HUNGRY!
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
I am a gluten intolerant metabolically damaged sufferer of IBS with adrenal fatigue syndrome and a thyroid problem.
Okay, not really. But if I listened to the advice and diagnoses of everyone around me, that would be my current state. Yes, my progress is lacking, and by lacking I mean has come to a complete halt. MANY people in my situation would have thrown in the towel WEEKS ago. Not me. I just harness my inner "Little Engine That Could" and keep on chugging along. CHOO MF-ING CHOO!
So how am I overcoming all this? I talked to my amazing coach, Pete Ciccone of 619 Muscle. This is the whole point of having a coach. Having one voice to listen to, one plan to follow, one mind that is staying a step ahead of you and figuring out the best way to help you progress as an athlete. There is so much clutter between what you read and what you hear and unsolicited advice that people will toss your way because everyone wants to believe they know best. Anyway, Pete asked how I was feeling and I believe my direct quote was "I'm tired, hungry, sore, grumpy, angry, I hate everything and everyone and I want to die." And no, that is not me being over-dramatic. That is exactly how I have been feeling for the past 2 weeks. Anyone who knows me is aware that those are very un-Robinlike characteristics. So he re-evaluated my diet and training program and decided I need to eat more. HALLELUJER! Bring on the apples, grapefruit, pineapple and almond butter! Throwing a little extra coal in this engine and this "Little Engine That Could" will be the "Little Engine That Did"!
Thursday, August 2, 2012
I feel like crying. I want to cry. I have an OVERWHELMING URGE to cry. About absolutely nothing. There is nothing bothering me right now, nothing is making me sad or upset. I just can't shake the feeling that I am going to start crying at any second. But nothing is wrong.
But something has to be wrong. 10 minutes ago I noticed that my jaw was completely clenched. Like I'm stressed out beyond belief, on the verge of pulling my hair out. But nothing is wrong.
But something has to be wrong. My heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest. Like I am anxious or nervously panicking. But NOTHING IS WRONG!!!
And no, it's not PMS.