DON'T!

Here's an article I wrote, for some extra motivation...


It's 3:30 AM. You're all alone in your kitchen, nothing but a single nightlight struggling to illuminate a space entirely too large for its wattage.

You're in a state of confusion, eyes blurry, body numb, mind battling with itself resulting in a blunt headache.

Sleep. Every part of your body aches for it, nothing more. Your head nods forward, your heavy lids put up a fight as you struggle to open your eyes. Once you do, they fixate on the enormous blue bottle of BCAA's.

That bottle's always there, your faithful partner in crime. When the silence seems to scream, amino acids have a loud voice.

Listen...do you hear it? They're telling you to get your ass in gear, stop pussyfooting around and down a few of 'em prior to getting those sneakers on and running out the door for your hour-long cardio session.

Listen. Hear that sound? That's your heart beating.

The blood running through your veins has a purpose; it's there to feed your cells. Your tissues, organs, muscles. Don't just stand there; give it a reason to keep making its circles through you.

The brisk air hits your warm skin, the moonlight beaming down harshly as if questioning your reasons for being up at such an ungodly hour. Your body quivers, begging you to go back to bed just for a little while...and once again, you ignore it.

Any weakness you had slowly melts and trickles to the ground with every deliberate step you take.

You're on a journey with no place for self pity or limitations. This is your life, this is who you are. Strong, powerful, brave, and every other antonym for weakness you can think of.

Without a soul anywhere in sight, you try to remember why you're doing this to yourself. In this solitude, the moonlit sidewalk takes your mind on a journey.

You begin recalling incidences you'd long forgotten; like that time in college, when a professor gave you a B on a paper that took you eight weeks to complete. He handed it to you with a grin and a memorable statement: "if I were grading based on effort, you'd get an A+ for sure!"

Effort. That word is loaded with more meaning than you ever thought possible.

Eight weeks researching the generation and spectrum shifting of spallation neutrons? Try going back to the gym for your second cardio session, third trip that day — when your body is so weak and carb depleted, you see stars circling around your head as soon as you step on the treadmill. You grasp the handles to make sure you don't fall off, but the thought of giving up never even crosses your mind.

That's effort.

Leg day, you're doing squats. It's an all-out set five; you're on your nineteenth rep of twenty. Heavy bar pressed into your skin, your eyes swelling with tears, quads and ass burning as if they're on fire. Your heart feels like it's about to explode.

One more rep, you're not a quitter. Quitters don't win, and you're a winner. Rep 21, here you come.

That's effort.

You aren't hungry in the middle of the night, when you wake up to force down yet another shake. You sure as hell don't want that second can of dry tuna for lunch when the guy in the next cubicle is loudly devouring his third slice of pizza, but cheating on your diet is sacrilege to you!

You're at the holiday table with nothing but a plain turkey breast on your plate while the rest of your family, barely fitting in their chairs because of their lard asses, stare at you in disbelief while trying to convince you to see an "eating disorder specialist."

Your reaction is nothing but an irrepressible grin as you look back at them, their mouths full of butter-drenched stuffing. You thank God for making you different and start to wonder whether you're adopted, yet you don't say a word to disagree with anyone — it's pointless, in their eyes you're a freak.

You get an A+ for effort.

You're more proud of yourself now than you ever imagined possible just a few years back. You grew, changed, transformed — inside and out. You're a different person now than you were when your professor handed you that paper. You're confident, tough. A true winner.

Your feet keep hitting the pavement with even more determination and there's now a faint smile on your face. You remember why your alarm clock is set to go off at a time when all of your single friends aren't even asleep yet. It's once again obvious how much you love every minute of being...different.

The battle taking place in your mind just a few minutes ago has been replaced with clarity. That headache is gradually dissipating, allowing you to delve even deeper into your thoughts and memories.

"Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired and success achieved." You remember the Helen Keller quote you learned back in High School. It spoke to you back then, but you embody it now.

All those times in the gym, when you felt like you have nothing left, you were developing character.

That last rep, the one long after your muscles have failed and the last drop of Spike is gone. You're dizzy, out of breath, and are trying to find the strength to rack the weight...when you suddenly realize that you're about to compromise your workout.

It hits you that you still have one more weapon in your arsenal. The most powerful of all tools you've got: the mind.

You sit on the nearest bench, staring at the floor to stop the room from spinning. A sluggish lift of the head and you see a defeated warrior staring back through the mirror. Gazing yourself in the eyes, you make a single statement: you will do one more rep, or you're a gutless wimp.

The words penetrate your mind. An ocean of adrenaline washes over your body, sending chills up your spine...the eyes leering back are now emotionless.

Glaring past the mirror, you stare straight into the face of every bad experience you can remember. All those moments you felt fragile, spineless, wimpy.

A quiet smile begins to form with the realization that each of the painful memories just contributed to the five tons of gasoline poured onto a dull spark. You don't do another rep. You do three instead...and they feel light!

You've got character. A chuckle slips out, breaking the 4AM silence. Half an hour down, thirty more minutes to go.

Crossing the street to start the jog back, you pass a former coworker's house. Good guy...strong-willed, kind, patient, positive. Used to always tell stories of the "good ol' days" in the marines, how much the guys had gone through, how tough the boot camps were.

You've quoted his favorite saying hundreds of times over the years: "Pain is weakness leaving the body." One of your favorite quotes of all time — one that you not only understand, but have found yourself transcending hundreds of times in the gym.

All those times your mind screamed, just one more rep, when your body had thoughts of its own. Thoughts of lactic acid, burning through your pores in attempts to rupture through your skin; pain so immense that it felt tangible, screeching right back at your mind...telling it to quit.

One more rep. The mind prevails. Pain is weakness leaving the body, so you embrace it. Accept it for what it is — simply a mental barrier. Nothing more than an imaginary wall you've broken through time and time again.

Remembering yourself just a few years back once again, you're amazed at the way a person's spirit can be completely reshaped, strengthened by the iron and the lifestyle it creates.

You fight the urge to scream at the top of your lungs, making everyone see what a miracle it is to have the power of choosing your own path. The authority to create the body, the mind, the character you desire.

The power to take life by the horns and make it go your way is truly a sacred privilege; to abandon that control is a goddamn sin! Use it; make it your own...savor the endless possibilities!

Sprinting through the front door, you feel boundless energy; ready to take on whatever the day has in store for you. It's only a bit past 4:30AM, the world's barely beginning to awaken; you're already ahead of the game.

You can't wait to enter the gym with a vengeance today. You'll walk in as if you've been possessed, knowing your intentions and letting nothing in this world deter you.

The headphones will go on and as the sound of rock gets louder, you'll turn into the most callous, volatile warrior you can fathom. Nothing will have the power to distract you or make you feel weak; you're unstoppable.

You own this mind of yours, control it! If you do, at the end of the day you'll stand a little taller, grow a little stronger. and move one step closer to every one of your goals.

In the end we all make choices, often not having the prudence to realize their lasting consequences. Choosing to control your destiny is the most basic decision you can make.

Once the choice is made, there's no turning back. No warrior will willingly surrender all control.

Winners are not those who never fail, but those who never quit.

You're a winner.

Giving up is not an option.

Labels: Articles

You’ve set your internet home page to MuscleWithAttitude months ago. You don’t remember where Krispy Kreme is, and have forgotten the taste of what used to be your favorite dinner: Double Quarter Pounder with cheese. You now look forward to chicken and broccoli dinners followed by sugar free jell-o for dessert.

Boring, but it works. So well, in fact, that you look just like that girl on the cover of Oxygen this month! Hell, maybe even better. You wonder how she got there, and you just know you could do it too. If only someone were to show you the way, you too could be rich & famous, making millions while inspiring women all across the nation...no, the world...to follow in your footsteps.
Guess what? MWA has got you covered once again!

Today is your lucky day. One of the best known, most respected individuals in the fitness world, Mr. FitSights, aka Conor, himself is here to help you get started.
Conor is an exceptionally talented photographer who’s been working with fitness models and figure competitors for the past ten years. He’s photographed everyone from the very top pro’s in our industry, to those just starting out.

I personally am lucky enough to call Conor a great friend, and can tell you that he’s not only one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met, but also one of the funniest! If this guy doesn’t make you laugh...it’s time to give up hope. Needless to say, we had a great interview—one I’m sure you will find both entertaining and very helpful.


ON: First things first: the one question I get asked most often is, what steps should be taken by someone attempting to break into the fitness industry? I can’t think of anyone more qualified to answer this question than you, so how does a fitness model get started?

C: With MySpace, Facebook and other forms of online promotion being so readily available these days, the fitness model realm is getting more and more crowded every year. However, there are still many ways to make your mark on the industry, but just like most things in life, it takes hard work, patience, dedication, and a bit of luck.

The most important step is to refine your look and get yourself to a point where you want to take the plunge into the modeling world. In this industry, it helps to be personable, outgoing, and all of those admirable traits — but lets be frank — it's all about your image. Hair, face, skin, physique, smile and everything in-between.
So before you start building a portfolio, make sure you've got those aspects in place. Because if you do, you'll be able to work with better photographers sooner, build a more impressive portfolio quicker, and be on your way to becoming The Next Big Thing.


ON: Speaking of “better photographers,” how would a girl find reputable, trustworthy fitness photographers?

C: Reputation is everything when it comes to seeking out a photographer, so the best way is to simply ask your peers in the industry. Click around on fitness model pages on MySpace, and if you see someone with a photo that you really like, ask them who took it and how it was to work with the photographer.

Most people are happy to share good experiences with photographers, and also glad to share some horror stories. Always take those horror stories with a grain of salt though, because the photographer and/or model could have had an off day. However if the horror stories start to pile up, then you might want to heed their advice.


ON: How much should an aspiring fitness model expect to pay to have her photos taken by the photographer whose work she likes?

C: This is a tricky topic, because the old adage "you get what you pay for" doesn't always apply. When trying to schedule a photoshoot, the payment will usually be handled in one of three common ways — you pay for the shoot, you do an "exchange," or you are paid for the shoot. Allow me to go into a bit more detail on each one.

When paying for a shoot, you are usually working with a highly skilled photographer that will be able to bring the best of you and capture images you didn't think were possible. Services like make-up and hair are often a part of the package to ensure optimal results. Great care in styling, location and lighting are taken to make sure its worth the sometimes high price, which can range from a few hundred to a few thousand dollars. Usually you'll get all the photos, but only a certain amount are refined via Photoshop to make the model look absolutely flawless.

An "exchange" is usually characterized by the acronym TFP (trade for print), or TFCD (trade for CD). As a model, you are exchanging your time and talents for the time and talents of the photographer. The aim is for both parties to get what they want out of it — good photos for their respective portfolios. Depending on the photographer, the model can either be a newbie and use the shoot to gain valuable experience in front of a camera, or they might be expected to know how to work it if the photographer is more seasoned. In the fitness industry, however, most photographers you'll meet work in this general format, and are happy to work with new models trying to establish a more diverse portfolio.

Lastly, if you have a look photographers desire, there's a chance to get paid for a shoot. These shoots are typically for large, popular websites with members sections, so the photographer is paying you for your photos which they will in turn make money from. While its hard to say no to free money, make sure the photos are tasteful and flattering. Remember that even after you spend the money you earned from the shoot, those photos will still be floating around the internet for years to come.


ON: Scary thought, definitely enough to make you think twice about who you choose to take those photos! But what if there are still images the model doesn’t like; how does she prevent them from being seen?

C: This is a touchy subject. Depending on what the model release says, especially if you are being paid for the shoot, you don't really have a lot of control over this. Just try to work with a reputable photographer and you can avoid this problem — they'll either do their best to not take any disparaging photos in the first place, and will usually remove them from the internet if you ask.

I wouldn't try to have a photographer remove a photo because your hair isn't falling the way you prefer, but if a photo was taken during a lil nip-slip, then its usually grounds for a removal request.


ON: So a model release is the agreement a fitness girl should expect to sign at every shoot?

C: No matter what type of format the shoot is, always insist a model release is signed, especially if it's your first time shooting with the photographer. I must admit, when I shoot with friends whom I've worked with in the past I don't really bother with releases, but that’s only because the terms of the shoot are already known and established, so it's not as big of a deal.


ON: I agree, it’s always a good idea to get the legalities out of the way and make sure both the photographer’s and the model’s terms are clear and agreed upon. Once the photoshoot is over, would the model get copies of all images taken? Does the photographer keep copies, as well?

C: These aspects are all dependent on the type of shoot you are doing and what is agreed to in the model release. In general, if you are paying for the shoot, you will get all of the photos (or at least the cream of the crop) and you retain the rights to them.

If it’s a TFCD shoot, both parties get to use the images how they see fit, and if you are getting paid for the shoot, don't always expect to get the photos, although I see most people to operate paid shoots in the fitness world still give the models copies of their photos.


ON: When the model does have a few great photos, how does she get into fitness magazines? Do you think that’s a good way to begin a career in the fitness world?

C: There are two routes you can take to achieve the common goal of appearing in a fitness publication — either shoot with a photographer who routinely submits to magazines, or simply send in the photos yourself. The first option can be a bit trickier, because photographers who submit tend to be a bit more discerning with who they work with, but that's why it's important to work hard and refine your look before seeking out the upper echelon photographers.

The second option is actually a lot more painless than you'd think. Simply email your photos and a brief blurb about who you are and why you think they should run one of your photos to a contact from the magazine's website, and you just may end up with a shout out, a small profile, or even a request for an extended pictorial if they really like your look.

And remember there is a wide array of publications out there, from Max Sports & Fitness to Oxygen to FitnessRX to Ironman. Keep in mind the "look" each magazine showcases for female fitness models when deciding what types of photos to send in.


ON: Our aspiring fitness star is now in the magazine of her choice. She’s on cloud nine, but can she expect to get paid? Is it true that even cover models don’t always get paid for their work?

C: Don't expect to retire to a mansion along the bluffs of La Jolla from the money you make as a fitness model. With any luck, you'll be able to make enough money modeling to buy lunch at a restaurant along the bluffs of La Jolla, but even that isn't guaranteed. Some magazines will pay you a small sum of money to print one of your photos — $50 or so — but even that instance is rare.

A lot of the time, the alleged prestige that comes along with being featured in a publication is supposed to be payment enough for models. Fitness modeling is a route that can often lead to a bit of fame, but don't expect fortune to come along for the ride as well.


ON: Alright, let’s move onto the fun stuff: those details that make or break a photoshoot. What would be a good outfit to where to a shoot?

C: I'm a proponent of the mantra "wear the outfit, don't let it wear you." Pick outfits that compliment your physique, your structure and reflect your general sense of style. Try to shy away from outfits with crazy patterns or ultra bright colors because they'll draw attention away from your physique and the other elements of the shot.

If you know the location beforehand, keep in mind colors or styles that would mesh with your surroundings. Doing a shoot in a grungy alleyway? Grunge up your look with a ripped up, soiled tank top over a bikini top, some boots with a heel and a strappy leather wristband. Feel free to get inspiration from magazines, TV shows, music videos or wherever else you see cool outfits.


ON: “Cool outfits” sounds great, but where do fitness models get them? How many changes of outfits should be on hand? How about accessories?

C: A lot of people think they need to shop for photoshoot clothes at stripper stores, but I tend to think otherwise. I'm not a huge fan of that kind of style of clothing, and I think you can find sexy items anywhere — from American Apparel to Target. It's all about finding clothes that flatter your shape and show off your physique. Save the stripper clothes for the bedroom (or work — hey, I'm not here to judge!).

While I'm not a fan of stripper clothes, I'm a huge advocate of accessories. They help to break up the usually large expanses of bare skin that fitness models tend to show off in photos — for good reason, of course. So spice up that skin around your neck, arms, wrists and waist with some accessories that not only compliment you, but also what you're wearing.

The amount of outfits is dependent on the time you'll be shooting, but I'd recommend about 2 per hour of shooting, just to be safe. It's always better to bring too much and have options than have too little and be forced to wear things that may not go too well with your location.


ON: What about hair and makeup, are there usually makeup artists and hair stylists at shoots? If not, do you have any tips on what makeup and hair looks good in photos?

C: If you are paying for a shoot, makeup should be a part of the fee, or at least be a recommended option available for the model. On all other types of shoots, you're usually on your own in that department. If you aren't comfortable doing your own makeup for a shoot and want something more dramatic, head down to a MAC or Sephora counter and let the experts there do what they do best.
Your makeup should mesh with the rest of the elements of your shoot — location, outfit and mood. Don't get ultra-dramatic smoky eyes and long lashes and then wear a sundress while frolicking on the beach. Go into it with a plan, and when it doubt, look at those same sources of inspiration (mags, TV, music videos) for helpful hints.


ON: Are there any grooming tips you can give to an aspiring model? Nails, body hair, skin...anything you can think of.

C: Well, unless you're going for the very niche market over at furryfitnessmodels.com, I'd try to minimize the Sasquatch look as much as possible. Remember that photos are taken from all different angles and zoom lengths, so bringing a crisp, clean, polished look to the shoot will only benefit you.
When you have stubbly pits or busted-up nails, you may have to alter your posing to avoid exposing them, so its best to grant yourself the freedom to situate yourself however you'd like by taking care of those things ahead of time.


ON: Sounds pretty basic! What if the girl has scars? Does she need to wear outfits that hide them, or can they be touched up in photos?

C: Anything and everything can be touched up in Photoshop, but don't expect the photographer you work with to be skilled enough to take care of these things. I've seen the whole gamut of no touching up and color correction, to the obliteration of pores and skin texture due to a hefty dose of blur tool.
When a photo is touched up by someone that a deft Photoshop technician, you won't know it's been touched up. There won't be any indication of a scar, a pimple, a stray hair. It will just be the physique, in all it's natural glory.


ON: So if a model breaks out two days before a shoot, should she just pretend it’s not there and carry on, in hopes of getting that huge pimple on the tip of her nose photoshopped out?

C: If something comes up before the shoot — a rash, rogue pimple, serious bloating, etc — simply contact the photographer and see how he feels about the problem. It's best to let him/her know in advance, and the shoot can either be rescheduled, cancelled, or perhaps the problem can be overcome. The sooner you get the word out about your little (or big) problem, the sooner a decision can be made on how to proceed.


ON: How about a tan; is it necessary for a fitness model to wear stage color to a shoot? If not, is it a good idea to have a natural tan, or does it not matter?

C: Having a healthy, bronzed exterior always enhances a physique in photos — but to a point. Stage tans can look muddy and splotchy, and there's always the problem of matching your face to your newly applied dark skin tone. Try using a tanning process like Mystic Tan, which will give you even coverage and a nice color.


ON: I have a few flawlessly tanned, very well groomed, gorgeous friends who are still painfully shy and would love some tips on how to relax in front of the camera. Any ideas?

C: Well, for some people it’s hard to feel natural while standing half naked in front of a stranger...and for others, its nothing. As a competitor, you should be comfortable and proud of your body, so although I don’t recommend wearing your posing suit to the grocery store while picking up some chicken breasts, wearing a bikini at a shoot shouldn’t be anything to get nervous about.
The photographer you’re working with should be able to calm any nerves as well. Personally, I usually break the ice with a little old fashioned comedy...but who knows what other photographers do. Juggle? Break-dance? Yodel? I’m sure everyone has a different approach.

ON: Told you he’s funny! Thank you Conor for taking the time to help debunk some fitness industry myths and help us all take better pictures. Your time is very much appreciated.

For more of Conor’s work, please visit his website, www.fitsights.com.

Labels: Articles

… And there it is… “Ehhh …ehhh …ehhh”… Its 3am once again as evidenced by the penetrating monotone, rusty nail on the chalkboard screeching sound. That damn three dollar electric alarm clock from Radio Shack, bought back in 1998 (note to self: time to get one of those cool Feng Shui Zen clocks that supposedly wake you gently wake you up over time). Have to get moving; don’t want to be late for my personal training client at 4am. No worries girl; grit it out and stay focused…be dedicated.

Time for me to get to the computer and check all the emails since last night asking the same thing: “How do I tone my core?” Maybe these people should just ask me for the winning Trifecta of the 5th race at Del Mar racetrack. I would probably give them a better answer. Still, they insist on doing as they always do; take my sincere advice about diet and training and make it look like one of those Steve Martin arrows through their heads as I sense it go in one ear and out the other. Why ask for advice if you are just not going to follow it?

Maybe I’m just grumpy, or maybe it’s the bland chicken I am washing down with plain cold broccoli, but as I watch the cable news channels I see it all again: reports of restaurants proudly proclaiming “Zero Trans Fats” and commercials screaming that you should “Get your daily recommended allowance of Calcium from Ice Cream!”

I give up watching TV and decide to go online, instead.

As I read through different websites, I keep seeing all these food diaries posted by women who desperately want to get in shape, lose weight, get toned…however I notice a trend: women posting their daily meal plans consisting of sugary juice, pizza and nightly muffins! I’m sorry to break it to you but the only thing you are going to get by eating muffin bottoms is a muffin top!

All you have to do, is take a look at the diets of bodybuilders, figure and fitness girls. There are thousands of them...and each one looks incredible! Just read the diets they post. Chicken breasts, eggs, cottage cheese, tuna, and protein powder are staples; along with some EFA’s and carbs from oats, brown rice or rice cakes. Look at how detailed their diets are; right down to the exact weight and caloric break down of everything they take in for the entire day.

Does the “I eat because I am unhappy, and I am unhappy because I eat” crowd really not see any discrepancy here? Or are they purposely trying to be like the horse with the blinders on, headed straight for the dangling carrot in front of its face, just like in that cartoon; going in the wrong direction, totally ignoring the advice of the trainer/jockey. Oh the horse was motivated as heck and eager to jump out of the starting gates like a rocket, only it lost its focus and strayed off course.

Just as I find it hard to swallow cold broccoli at 4am, I find this whole eat what you want and get in shape mentality equally difficult to masticate. Yes, I said masticate…get your mind out of the gutter. As my gag reflex (stop it already) kicks in, I’m reminded of a story: Indiana Jane and the Temple of Fried Ice Cream.

There once was a very sweet, pretty lady named Jane. She had every reason to be happy, except one. You see, Jane was overweight—obese, actually. She tried everything to lose the weight...but it just wasn’t happening!

She’s been on every diet at least twice, but no matter how motivated she was starting out, she just never lasted for more than a couple of weeks. Once she’d start to make poor food choices again, she would regain the couple of pounds she worked oh-so-hard to lose...and now it was beginning to get tougher working up the motivation to start over yet again!

Jane didn’t want to be fat! She just no longer knew what to do to lose the weight. She blamed it on her genetics, her kids, and finally...her thyroid condition. It obviously wasn’t her fault the weight wouldn’t budge! I mean she really was motivated every single time she started on a diet...if it weren’t for all those factors beyond her control, she’d surely have been a tiny lil’ thing right now! You know—look like one of those figure girls, winning all her competitions!

Yes, that’s how motivated she was.

Once, after coming across some photos of such figure competitors on the internet, she decided to do more research to find out more about them. Jane had to prove to herself that they were indeed genetically gifted individuals! She’d feel better knowing that none of them had the issues she’s struggling with. Surely, none of them have kids. And naturally, none were ever overweight at all!

The results of her research left her flabbergasted. Jane was even more depressed and at a loss upon learning that many of these figure girls are in actuality mothers, and plenty are over 40 years of age! She even found that a few looked twenty years younger on stage than they did just five years ago, when they were over 100 pounds overweight!

The sadness came over her. She felt herself drowning in a sea of despair, getting swept further away from her goals with each dark wave of chocolate she devoured.

So...blaming the kids is out. Thyroid—plenty have gotten over that, as well. If others have been able to lose hundreds of pounds prior to getting on stage...what was stopping her? She needed to find out. It was finally time for a journey so out of character she wasn’t sure she would ever be the same again.

Jane declared that day to be the day she finally conquered the secret of the temple and defeated the enemies causing her to stray from her intended goals. After a grueling day of work as an archeologist, it was time to once again enter the temple and try to change her fate.

Upon entering into the familiar world, our heroine began dodging waves of ice cream cascading at her from all sides. The mounds of sharp chocolate morsels, and rocky road marshmallows furiously tumbled at her. The frigid cold searing brain freeze she received from being so close numbed her and made it hard to think. They were telling her to stop, relax and enjoy their soothing comfort. Maybe she should just adapt to her shape, take it for what it is? Maybe she could just be one of those “happy” fat people?

The Temple of Fried Ice Cream became increasingly difficult to traverse as night fell. It was now dark; Jane’s vision became uncertain. Should she give up? Should she give in, yet again?

Not our Jane, she would venture on, ever so forcefully moving forward. She reached over and grabbed one of those flaming marshmallow torches she used to munch on; however this time she used it to light the way to freedom. Jane needed to recover the lost secret of the temple and return to her past glory—her former fit body she was once so proud of.

As she pressed on, Jane kept gazing over the photos of these flawless women hanging on the inside of the temple’s walls. The temptation of solid milk chocolate piles and soft serve rainbow sprinkled custard ice cream all around her was overwhelming, and causing her to feel sick. Sick and tired...of all this motivation just not helping her reach her goals at all! She was beyond frustrated. She was angry. Angry...and determined.

Her heart racing, her lunges feeling as though they’re about to explode, Jane felt like screaming... announcing to the entire world of a discovery she just made inside of herself. Having made her way through the precarious maze of cheesecake covered canyons she was finally at the end of the temple, face to face with her arch nemesis – Fried Ice Cream. It held the secret she needed to know. It was a fierce struggle that lasted for what seemed like an eternity. Would Fried Ice Cream again win the battle?

Today was different. It was our heroine’s turning point. Suddenly, Jane was overcome with power emanating from deep within her soul. A profound strength she never knew she had, existed all along. It was impatiently awaiting to be uncovered...determination.

When the smoke and dusty air cleared from within the brick walls, only Jane would be left standing. Proud, with an enormous smile livening up her face, feeling weightless for the first time in ages. Our heroine flew into action, grabbed a heavy duty construction size garbage bag, and went for the refrigerator door.

Out came the frozen TV dinners, the pizza, the sausages...all ten types of cheese, her soda, twinkies, jelly and yes…it was the end for her starch adversary…the Fried Ice Cream. It had put up such a persistent fight for all these years yet it melted into oblivion screaming “Oh cruel fate, why dost thou mock me.” A fateful end it met that day.

Jane was now laughing gallantly. Her mind seemed clear; she suddenly didn’t want any of what she previously could never imagine living without due to “cravings!” CRAVINGS? She kept laughing; she couldn’t begin to imagine letting herself cave into such silly things anymore! She felt superhuman...determined...

This feeling was intoxicating. She was now living her new life. Evil Fried Ice cream had been defeated at long last. From that moment forward, NOT the day after—her new self would never let her wait that long! It was then or never.

Jane proudly signed up with a trainer that day. She got a grocery shopping list off a respected fitness website, and restocked her fridge with chicken, fish, vegetables, and rice. There was now a food scale on her counter, where the enormous basket containing various kinds of breads used to be.

The desire to be regimented was now an engrained part of our heroine. Sticking to an actual plan was the only way she would satisfy that yearning. She could no longer fathom grabbing the first item she laid her eyes upon and starting to eat it out of stress or frustration. Jane had regained her long lost ways, she was now equipped with the secret of the temple. She boasted triumphantly to all her friends and all rejoiced in her success.

I sit here now, two years later, looking at photos of my client Jane on stage. She did it. Just a few months ago, she competed in figure. Lost all her weight, didn’t “fall off the wagon” once. She’s now too determined to let that happen!

Jane reached her goal. There she is, her smile lighting up the stage, her eyes twinkling with pride as she looks at her audience. She’s fully aware of the fact that she is now an inspiration—she is that woman, the one who lost over 100 pounds of weight, standing tall in a barely-there bikini, looking 20 years younger than she did just two years ago.

She battled her demons, the ones inside her—and the ones in her kitchen. She fought with the chocolate and the pasta, the ice cream and the pizza...she WON.

She also learned a crucial lesson. Motivation and Dedication are two totally separate things. Unless a pronounced distinction between them is made, one can never hope to succeed!

Motivation will make you set that alarm and get you out of bed at 4:30am that first morning for cardio. Dedication will keep you getting up at an ungodly hour, day after day, when your body feels numb from the cardio and your legs feel as though they can not take another step.

If you’re only motivated to tone up, you’ll stick to a diet of chicken breasts and brown rice for a week, before complaining that you just need to have Chocolate Cookies...and caving in.

Dedication is when you would rather eat the ass out of a dead donkey than force down the 300th dry chicken breast washed down with water, but you do it anyway—and complaining never even crosses your mind.


Motivation is not enough. You absolutely need to be dedicated. Jane was…Are you?

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I am an athlete. My life is consumed by my sport. I spend it eating six or seven times daily, training a couple of hours per day, and doing copious amounts of cardio. I make sure I get my eight hours of sleep, and carry a gallon of water wherever I go.

Open the biggest cabinet in my kitchen—you’ll see a few jugs of BCAA’s, surrounded by 3 huge containers of protein powder (to assure that I NEVER run out), glutamine, and a collection of smaller bottles with colorful caps inside.

Look around. Staring back at you, on the countertop, is an enormous box of oatmeal from Costco…along with a bottle of Se7en and Hot Rox Extreme, and at least 10 more gallons of water.

Now open my fridge. Awww…were you looking for a soda?? SORRY, all I got is chicken, eggs, broccoli and some steak for that special occasion. I SAID I’m prepping for a contest!!

You were hungry and HAD to stop by Micky D’s because there wasn’t anything healthier around? I understand. I would do the same…if I didn’t have a trunk-full of pre-made chicken with rice and a purse-full of tuna packets with me at all times! Does your lady run to the restroom to “freshen-up” at work? I do the SAME!! Except “freshen-up” means “down a shake” in my language—not “reapply mascara” as it does in hers.

Does your idea of a party involve beer?? I know how to party too!! My idea of a good time involves a squat rack and a bucket for vomiting after each grueling set…

Didn’t mean to get carried away, just wanted to introduce myself. Hi. How you doin’? My name is Olesya Novik. I’m a figure girl. I compete in figure competitions. You know the ones. Some like to refer to them as “bikini contests” that feature girls with “no athletic ability.” Just a bunch of “cardio bunnies” prancing around the stage in high heels. I’m one of those ladies.

Why the bitter undertone, you ask? Come train with me—or better yet, spend a day living my life—and you will see why I’m fed up with reading articles and posts all over the web stating that competing in figure requires no “special abilities, athleticism, or discipline of any kind.”

I get upset any time someone who knows NOTHING about my lifestyle goes on a board to post that figure doesn’t belong as a division of any bodybuilding federation since women competing in it aren’t “real athletes.”

My life as a figure competitor is stressful enough just knowing that unlike the bodybuilding division of my sport, figure doesn’t have any set rules or requirements. While bodybuilders look to simply gain as much mass as humanly possible and get ripped to shreds prior to getting on stage, I have to determine a way to be ripped—but with no visible striations, and have very full—but defined muscles with no water OR thin skin.

My physique can not just be muscular—it has to be aesthetically pleasing to the judges of that particular show. I have to be perfectly balanced—create the illusion of a wide back, a tiny waist, capped shoulders, sculpted legs—all without looking like I have too much muscle in any portion of my figure. I have to look curvy, but strong. I push beyond physical boundaries to get my body unnaturally lean to show off the musculature I work so hard to get. I then have to work on ways to look “full” to MASK that leanness, so as to maintain my feminine appeal.

So what makes bodybuilders more “athletic” than us figure girls, anyway? Is it the fact that they get to walk barefoot on stage, and we have to pose while cramping up in heels? Or maybe it’s the fact that they don’t have to worry about their hair looking perfect, their makeup being flawless…their false lashes staying in place through the day, and their blush being visible on an orange base?

Wait, I know—it’s the fact that male bodybuilders get to hike up their bikini bottoms to show off the striations on their glutes, while I have to Bikini-Bite the barely-there “V” of the bottom portion of my suits to my ass and pray it doesn’t get unglued as I’m trying to balance in my 6” heels while looking graceful in my walk, remembering how to pose perfectly and SMILE!! All while trying to not fall because OUCH…my left leg cramped up! And WHOA…the bikini bite didn’t hold up too well…

Guess what? My barely covered booty is now disqualified from the competition.

Here we go again—back at the drawing board. Pack on some muscle to balance out my physique a bit more. Some old school training does it best for me—yep, those same Deads, Squats, Rack Pulls, Chins…those Barbell Rows and Bench. Those are what I do, just like the Bodybuilders. Just like the “real athletes” of my sport. I bust my ass, lift over twice my weight in most of those compound movements I listed. Just like them. I have deep scratches on my shins, calluses on my palms, long bruises on my back—where the squat bar rests. Yet somehow, according to so many posts on the net, what I do requires “no discipline.”

It’s nothing more than a bikini contest. And it’s time to step on stage. I’m walking slowly, approaching the entrance, grabbing onto the bottom of my suit as I walk—NO WAY IN HELL will I let that Bikini Bite fail on me this time! As I press the suit into my skin, I feel myself getting more nervous—and overwhelmingly excited at the same time. My entire body feels weak, dehydrated, shaky. I can barely see because of the heavy makeup covering my eyelids. My right foot has been cramping up ever since I got into my heels…and all I can think is…SMILE. Try to.

Be graceful, FEMININE. You’ve spent hours covering up the scratches from those Deadlifts, the bruises from the Squats to look flawless—like a lady should! Now it’s your turn. GO! SMILE! Don’t flex too hard! Don’t trip! Rock the hips when you walk! NOT THAT MUCH—watch the Bikini Bite!!

WHEW. It’s over. I did it. The prejudging is done. Time to rest, re-touch my makeup, remain “dry” yet full-looking, fix the hair, and not ruin the tan—which means stay away from water. ANY water. Well…I’m faced with a bit of a dilemma. I DO want the perfect tan—with no drip marks anywhere on my body—for the night show. But nature calls. I’ve GOT to pee. I’m NOT a male. My anatomy makes it impossible to just “stand & aim.” I need to sit, and risk splashing water onto my perfectly tanned bottom. Yes, this too requires ingenuity. I end up peeing in a plastic cup to avoid any marks on my tan.

As soon as I’m backstage prior to the night show starting, I begin helping other girls with their dilemmas. One ruined her tan by not being as resourceful as me when she had to pee. Another competitor had the look of death on her face because one of the straps of her suit broke. Armed with a sewing kit, a few of the girls jumped to help her—while a few others (myself included in this group), went to comfort her and convince her that all would be OK!

As I was thinking of ways to make her understand that what was happening to her was in no way a life-or-death situation, something occurred to me. I DID want to win. Badly. But this isn’t what amazed me—the reason for my desire to win is what was truly surprising!

Unlike male bodybuilders of my sport, I would NOT be rewarded for my efforts in winning the show with a cash prize. All I would be getting is a plastic trophy. The trophy, along with recognition for being the best athlete on stage that day. That is what meant a lot to me. The Squats, the Deadlifts, the Rack Pulls…the bruises, and cuts on my shins. All the vomiting on leg day. All those times I was up for cardio at 3am, before eating a cold chicken breast on my way to work an hour later. ALL WORTH IT, for that recognition!!

I placed first at the show, which, of course, made me happy. In all honesty, however, it’s the weeks leading up to the show that taught me a whole lot about why I love my sport. I learned a lot about who I am, and how determined the iron, the treadmill, and that chicken breast have made me. I learned that I definitely do not give up easily! And hell, if I can lift those 350lbs for sets of 13 reps…I sure will have no problems dealing with just about anything else life throws my way!

A human body is a machine, controlled by the mind. If the mind believes it, the body will achieve it. At least that’s how MY mind works. You know—the mind of an athlete…

Labels: Articles