…scaring the shit out of me.
I know I’ve declared this goal once on Facebook, but then I became very quiet about it. The first goal, “compete in my first bodybuilding show by age 50”, was easy compared to this new one. I had a lot more control over the outcome of that one than I will over the outcome of the next one. There are a lot more variables that I can’t control for this one.
I’m going to whisper it. I don’t know if I’m really committed to it, so I don’t want to say it out loud…
“Turn pro by age 55.”
So, even though I’m posting on my blog, and maybe a few people will read it, it doesn’t count yet, OK?
It was told to me by a friend that she and a former competitor where talking about me and my first show a few weeks ago. My friend mentioned that this is my new goal and the former competitor told her that if anyone could do it, I could. That is making me braver. Still kind of sheepish about coming straight out with it, but confident enough that I’m going to half-ass commit to it by writing it down here.
Please indulge me as I go through my process of listing all the reasons why this is a stupid, crazy (or cray-cray, as Martha would say) goal:
First – who the heck do I think I am to set a goal like that? Bodybuilders who have been lifting ten times longer than me, have competed so many times, have never reached that goal despite paying their dues. I feel kind of cheeky and naive to even think about it after doing one local show. Not even a qualifier. Maybe I’m even being disrespectful to those veterans I admire. I don’t want to diminish anyone’s experience by thinking this is going to be easy for me, or even possible. But I am starting at 50, not 25. I don’t really have 20 years of competitions ahead of me. I need to move quickly if I’m going to do this.
Second – I can’t financially commit to it right now. I will have to compete many times and they won’t be local shows. There will be suits to buy, a coach to pay, travel and lodging, and the costs associated with the shows. Reality now is that we won’t be able to afford it. Unless I can make some money on the side. Write a book? Training?
Third – My first goal wasn’t to win my class, it was just to be competitive. And honestly, it didn’t matter what shape I was in. If I paid my money, I got to participate. Now, I’m making it my goal to win. That’s a slippery pig to catch, isn’t it? I have no idea who will be on stage next to me, except that I have to assume they will be at least 10 years younger. With a lot less stretched skin to pose around. When the time comes to compete again, I’ll be better than I was at the last show. And I’ll do that many times. And then I’ll start to win. And then I’ll get a pro card. It’s not complicated.
Fourth – I have no freakin’ idea what I’m doing. Maybe I’ll get tired of competing and won’t want to continue. Didn’t know what I was doing before, either. Just took one step at a time. Sometimes I could see the path ahead of me, sometimes not. I had to move on faith. So what’s new? That’s how God has the whole ride set up, right?
This goal is as scary to me now as the first one was to me two years ago. And like any really scary, really big goal I’ve ever set for myself, it’s real purpose is to push me forward every day. It influences the little stuff – like maybe next weekend, I won’t eat as much ice cream as I did today. I will do my “teacher-thang” and set some benchmark goals to measure progress toward the bigger goal.
- gain 10 pounds of muscle by June
- find a national qualifier show for next July
- stay lean (no ice cream binges)
- improve posing (First week back in the gym, I wanted to practice posing again.)
So that’s it. I’m about to fall asleep, so I’ll quit writing and send this up to the Universe.