Whew! What a Journey!

I was born with a competitive spirit. I started playing soccer at age 5, begged to learn how to slide tackle at 6 and received my first red card at age 8. I play hard, I play tough and I play to win.

My journey into Fitness Competition Land began in September of 2010. I was checking out Stacey Cooper's and BootyCampSB's Facebook pages one day and stumbled upon the infamous before and after pics. I was intrigued. How did these transformations happen? Are these women even real? Can real women get these bodies or are they reserved for super models, gym addicts and pro athletes? I have to admit that I didn't believe for one second that I could be one of those "after" women, but curiosity (and let's be honest...those booty pictures) got the better of me and I called Stacey anyway.

Stacey met with me and explained the diet requirements and the time commitment. During our meeting , I was convinced that the pants I was wearing were going to give away the fact that my life had become sedentary. I was sure that Stacey the Personal Trainer and Bikini Competitor would think that this girl with the chubby thighs who poured herself into pants that used to fit, was going to fail. This former athlete and fitness enthusiast had become lazy and unmotivated and it showed. I felt intimidated by the girls walking by as we chatted in the gym lobby and I was convinced that Stacey was having this meeting with me out of obligation and would certainly not accept me into this program. Apparently, a my lack of fitness was tied to more than just an abundance of Rusty's pizza. It was a direct result of the lack of confidence and general feeling of unhappiness in my personal and professional life.

Then she asked me if I would like to participate and start training for the December 2010 show.

WHAT???????

She really just asked me that? I had zero muscle tone and more booty than I had ever seen in my life and she wanted me to join her group of bikini competitors? I hesitated and then said "sure" before I could really stop and think about what it would entail. I was locked in...still not completely convinced that I was going to be able to put in the insane work required or look good enough to actually compete.

The program was exhausting and I loved every minute of it. I lifted weights 4 times a week, did my morning and sometimes evening cardio AND did a carb cycle to melt off that pesky fat. It was blood, sweat and tears (no exaggeration). My lack of focus and lethargy in life slowly became strength physically and mentally. I loved the positive energy from the other girls at the gym and looked forward to every session. I loved the sore muscles, the piles of sweaty gym clothes on my bedroom floor AND the looks and comments I got about my body and overall attitude. People were noticing the transformation and it felt amazing. My boss who was holding a department meeting once stopped mid-sentence, looked at me and said, "wow, I can see the difference in your face already!". I was traveling along an unknown path and I was ROCKIN it! I ate my chicken, egg whites and broccoli like a champ and endured many funny comments and looks as I carried my Tupperware everywhere I went. Even with this new self-confidence, I was scared of the competition and didn't register for the show until the week before.

During this three-month training program, my dad became very sick. He suffered 2 strokes and endured a very complicated heart valve replacement surgery. I was traveling 8 hours from SB to Nor Cal every other weekend and packing my food with me. The mental stress took it's toll on me, but everyone at the gym knew what was happening and became an extended family. The outpouring of love and support was amazing.

Also during this training, my husband and I separated after seven years together. All the momentum and energy I developed quickly became an endless fog of tears and physical and emotional pain. The pain was real and it lasted for months. I went to bed with it at night and I woke up with it everyday. I carried the weight of loss and grief with me every day. I missed work, sleep and meals. I was depressed and it showed. The muscle I had built was slowly fading and I was losing weight quickly. The emaciated look is not okay for bikini competitors, and Stacey stepped in.

She let me talk about it. That was all I needed. I just needed to talk about and try to feel like a normal person for a few hours. I needed to know that I was not alone and that there were others who had gone through this incredibly traumatic event. Stacey and her other clients gave me support that some of my long time friends did not. I looked forward to the gym because I was building new friendships with some amazing women. It had become more than the bikini competition. It had become an evolution of my life and the people in it. I thank God everyday for Stacey and these women because of the love and support I received from them.

After a lot of thought, I decided to continue training. My loss of appetite wasn't ideal, but I tried to keep on the high protein diet. Honestly, that diet probably kept me from getting really sick. The training program gave me a heathy focus and allowed me to physically release the frustration and pain that I felt. I worked as hard as I could and made it to that competition. I wore my suit, my new muscles and also my new-found sense of strength and self worth. I had no idea that I was capable of training that hard for that long while enduring the most difficult year of my life. Exercise really can be an amazing form of therapy.

I always say that I trained for three months, gave up sugar, alcohol and countless hours of sleep for that one "after" picture. But in reality, I trained and sacrificed for a renewed sense of physical and mental strength, a new life for myself AND all of the wonderful women I adore and love.

And now, when I put on jeans that once lived in that pesky donation pile, I send a text to Stacey Cooper and I thank her for giving me back my health... and my impressive booty.

Road Trip!!

This girl has the routine down!! Now can I have a break? Please??

Welcome to Bikini Competition Training! Here is your life for the next 12 weeks:

~ Wake up.

~ Cardio.

~ Eat.

~ Work.

~ Eat.

~ Lift Weights.

~ Eat.

~ Cook/weigh/plan meals.

~ Eat.

~ Eat.

~ Relax.

~ Eat.

~ Sleep.

~ Repeat again and again and again.

Sunny San Diego

Bikini Competition training isn't easy. It takes tons of planning and lots of patience for the grueling schedule that depletes all sources of energy. Each day can be a struggle of timing meals, reminiscing about your fading social life and trying to adhere to the workouts you committed to at the start of the program.

But...there is a bright side! Hello abs!! This is the time in the program when the body is making drastic changes. Fat is melting, muscles are building and stamina is increasing. Flexing in public mirrors is totally acceptable at this stage in the game. It's a little reward for all the skipped office cupcakes, missed happy hours and all those delicious ice cream dates that mysteriously turned into "Greek Yogurt with 1 Cup of Blueberries" dates.

So this last weekend, I decided to reward myself for all of my hardwork. I skipped town and landed my happy arse in sunny San Diego!! I packed my meals and gallon of water in the car and off I went in search of some quality time with the BFF and some sun for my pasty behind.

BFF, Paul and I in San Diego

Can you sprinkle a little fun into the uber demanding training schedule? Absolutely!! It will take some planning, but it can be done! Sometimes a change of scenery can do wonders for that waning dedication that was so vibrant 5 weeks ago.

Health isn't only about muscles and time spent on the treadmill. It's also about taking some time out to relax and enjoy your life and laugh with the people in it.

My timeout is over and I am READY to jump right back in! Week 5 is underway!

Just a Little, White Lie. Right??

Committing to a 3 month program of strict dieting and a tiring gym schedule defintely has an effect on one's social life. Simple ideas of dinner and a movie or a spontaneous weekend road trip become a game of timing, planning and stretching the truth a bit.

Lying is never good. One lie becomes five very quickly and the stress of having to remember all of these tall tales is too much for me to handle. Honesty really is the best policy, especially since all my lost sleep and extreme energy expension leave me with very little brain power each evening anway. But, sometimes this training program has forced little, teeny untruths to leave my mouth at any given moment.

Apparently, now, I have....kids. Whoops!

I was at the gym and got a message from a friend inviting me to a movie, which started 20 minutes after my weight class got out. First thought...panic!! I was supposed to eat again and didn't bring food. Second thought...I have wanted to see this movie for awhile. Third thought....I wonder if I can find suitable food in the next 20 min to sneak into the movie theater??

So off I went in search of an acceptable, diet-friendly dinner.

~ Sandwich? No.
~ Pizza joint? Definitely not.
~ Thai Food? Not enough time or patience.
~ Natural Cafe?? Maybe so!

I power walked into the Natural Cafe in all my spandex, straight from the gym glory and ordered food for my "kids". I get tired of servers giving me the stink-eye as I ask for food that is plain, very specific and sometimes chopped into pieces. Servers hate it, so I made up some kids. Perfect!!

I ordered 2 Turkey Patties, chopped into bites with lettuce and tomato only. "Please leave off the dressing, onions, bun, cheese and ketchup". Then I asked that this creation be packed in a small plastic container for my "kids". No one gives you the death stare when you are ordering for your kids. They want to give you a medal of honor for being such an accomodating and thoughtful parent.

Then off I went into the movie theater, with my illegal, chopped up and naked skeleton of a turkey burger in my giant purse. I ate it quite happily as my friends chowed down on their nachos. Then, as they went off into the night to grab drinks and hang out, I took my tired self home to bed so I could rise and shine for my 6AM gym date.

Honesty is always the best policy...unless you are in Competition training.

King of Bandaids

My dad is the King of Bandaids. When you are cursed, ah-hem, blessed with a daughter who grows up thinking she is Evel Knievel, you have to be.

As a child, my knees were always skinned from falling/sliding/wrestling and the rest of me proudly displayed war wounds from tree climbing/dirt bike racing/skateboarding/every other activity I thought I should master. He wiped the tears, wrapped the sprained ankles and prayed silently that I wouldn't break any bones before mom got home. He watched every soccer game I ever played in from the pigtailed age of 5 until the teenage angst-ridden age of 18 and never failed to complete fatherly duties of helping me peel off my sweaty, mud-soaked shinguards, socks and cleats after every practice or game. It wasn't completely necessary, but it was comforting knowing that I could sit there sippin' on a well-deserved smoothie while dear old dad did all the dirty work. I'm sure I asked for help when I was still rockin' the pigtails, but some father-daughter rituals just stuck.

He is also the reason I write. I will edit this Blog post 20 times before I will be able to sleep, thanks to dad's lessons in grammar and voice. My dad is a published author and even though I frequently rolled my eyes and secretly cursed him under my breath, he would never approve a paper I had written unless it was correct. Did it make sense? Were all the tenses correct? Was the grammar intelligent and appropriate? Most of the time I was just throwing a last minute paper together for class before 90210 came on, but to dad, each paper was a creation of greatness. His passion for writing wasn't exactly contagious back then, but it slowly became one of those father-daughter rituals that just stuck.

So, while I celebrate Father's Day pretty frequently these days given my Dad's challenging health issues, the official Father's Day is fast approaching. Each conversation we have now reminds me of how lucky I am to still have him. I'm not yet ready to let go of the one person in my life who helped me build go-carts and skate board ramps knowing that I was going to eat it and that he was going to be there to help me pick up the pieces.

Happy Father's Day to the King of Bandaids...

and thank you for helping me pick up the pieces.

Grip it and Rip it!

Every girl knows the importance of accessories. Some are functional, some are fashionable and some are torturous (hello, new hot pink heels!). I have been waiting a few weeks for my latest gym accessory and they are finally here!

I always wondered if weight lifting gloves were really necessary. I really don't care if my hands have calluses and I really never realized the point. After wearing them for one class with Stacey Cooper....I GOT IT! Gloves do more than protect hands from calluses and bruises. They improve grip which can in turn, improve form. When my hands would hurt from doing 60 bicep curls with 15 pound free weights, I would use my back, shoulders, etc. to compensate.

Bad idea.

Not only does that take the tension away from the targeted muscle group, it also puts you at risk for injury. That could be why I get nasty knots in my back from time to time.

So, from now on I will use my new black and hot pink lifting gloves. New workout clothes are often just the motivation we need to get movin'. If you look good, you feel good and that added bit of energy can go a long way. So, pick up some new running shorts, new gloves or a sparkly headband if it gets your lazy arse out of bed to strut your sexy stuff at the gym at 6 AM.

AND...ladies....after spending several hours a week in sweaty gym clothes, you are definitely going to have to throw on some of these from time to time....

Enjoy!!

21 Days to Change a Habit??

I'm not a morning person. Ever. I am the queen of comfy blankets and snooze buttons. I sleep like a rock most nights and rarely ever get up during the night. I am also very proud of my abilities to sleep while at the movie theater, on an airplane, in a car or under a nice, shady tree on a hot day. I rarely have trouble sleeping in hotels or while visiting friends. Yep...it's one of my many talents, which may or may not include Narcolepsy. :-)

I am currently in Week 4 of the 12 week Fitness Comp training program. I lift weights 3 evenings a week, do early morning cardio 4 days a week and due to scheduling issues, I had to change one of my weight lifting days to a 6AM class. Uhhhhhhhhhhh...WHAT?? Did I mention that I like to sleep?

So, I set my alarm for 5:15 AM and only hit the snooze a few times before I got up and headed out the door. I was actually on time, which isn't like me. I slept in my gym clothes the night before to decrease the task list for the morning and increase the last few moments of sleep. Not sure if my method is genius or pure laziness, but I do it nonetheless.

The class was difficult, but I was awake. I wondered if my early morning cardio sessions were actually becoming part of my new routine. Was I actually getting used to the grueling morning schedule and becoming a morning person? The jury is still out, so I will go with maybe.

As I was leaving class, one of my fellow Fitness Comp trainees said that it takes 21 Days to change a habit. Funny enough...today is day 21. Our bodies are accustomed to certain habits, good and bad and apparently it takes time to change them. If the Queen of Sleeping can actually train herself to get her happy arse out of the comfy, cozy, warm bed and head to the gym, liftweights for an hour and then be home for breakfast by 7:15 AM, then anyone can.

Now if I could only find 21 days to lay off the nail biting. Hmmmmm....

Life or Something Like It

This girl has big ideas. The more impossible the goal, the more I want to achieve it. I wake up with a list of short and long-term goals buzzing around in my brain and spend the day living off of the energy that comes from the mere thought of completing these near-impossible feats. I cram as many activities into my weekly schedule as possible and often end up exhausting myself in the process. So, what's the lesson here? Take the time to take care of your health and body before taking over the planet. I should write that down and remind myself everytime I want to pick up yet another sport, book club, networking group, charity event, volunteering opportunity, fitness challenge, etc. etc. This girl needed a break and one was given to me, whether I wanted it or not.

My last post was an introduction to my next round of training for a March fitness show. The last round of training Blogs had tons of readers, which is immensely encouraging and envigorating. The "6AM Booty Shorts" post gathered countless comments (shocking) and I still get emails inquiring about my dad's health after a challenging 2010. This Blog has created a virtual buddy system, which I plan to continue as I embark on this journey for the second time. The March show didn't happen, which leads me to that pesky break from life and everything in it.

Stacey Cooper, my trainer often says, "Sometimes, life just gets in the way". True story. And while fitness programs can be a good distraction, sometimes you have to consider your physical and mental health before committing to a program this intense.

Life got in the way for several girls who planned to train for the March show. Some got injured, a couple gave up, a few got divorced, one had a sick relative, a few got divorced, one discovered she was expecting (yay!!), one bought a house and a few got divorced.

I went into this program in January thinking that all my frustration, anger, nervous energy, emotional confusion could be poured from directly from my brain into a yoga mat funnel, ending up tidy and organized after a good workout.

Nope. Wrong. Fail. Try again.

I started out strong and then I hit the wall. Emotions need to be dealt with in all sorts of ways and if you don't deal with them properly, your body will step in. The body will sloooooooooow you down. This process results in loss of appetite, which results in lack of sleep, which results in a lack of energy, which results in Alisa getting lectured by Stacey Cooper about looking like a zombie while trying to put up twice the weights I normally would.

Was it that obvious? Apparently so.

Here I am in April, ready for another round. For reals this time. Today marks day one of the 12 week program and my next show will be June 25th. I am ready, excited, and I am more realistic about what I can handle.

So, strength isn't always about the size of our muscles. It's also about how we choose to handle life...or something like it.

This girl is BACK and ready to WORK!!!