oxygenmagAU Jan/Feb 2018 117
E
arly in May 2017, I found myself focusing
on preparing my body to compete in the
IFBB Victorian championships. It was
a decision I’d made in February when I
attended the qualifier show for the Arnolds. I’d sat in
the audience at my first bodybuilding show surprised
and excited.
I was surprised at how encouraging an environment
it was — the cheering alone blew me away. That’s
when I had the thought that excited me: ‘If I, a chick
without any hands or feet, competed ... that would be
a pretty powerful moment’.
And so my reason for competing was born. I would
compete to prove that if you believe in yourself,
anything is possible.
I made the decision knowing that my prep would
be more difficult than most and that there would be
daily challenges. I knew this, because I wouldn’t be
the average competitor. I was born without hands and
feet and live with chronic pain, but I made a promise
to myself that no matter what, I would get up on that
stage.
TWENTY
WEEKS OUT
So began my twenty-week prep. In the beginning,
not much changed. I had a trainer who I felt confident
with to coach me through prep; my diet and training
was on point. All that changed initially was adding
cardio.
That didn’t stop the beginning of prep feeling
daunting, though, as I didn’t know what to expect.
I kept fixating on the number I would
weigh on stage and constantly asked
my coach if I would come in
conditioned enough. I think
this anxiety was coming
from weighing around
130kg as a teenager.
I was told that I
would be ready to
go on stage leaner
than I had ever been
before in my life,
and yet my mind
couldn’t trust it. I
felt that I couldn’t
trust my body. That
I wouldn’t see any
changes in what seemed
such a short amount of
time when I had spent years
trying to lose weight.
These thoughts of self-doubt
made me want to quit before I had
even started. They also rang true in
another sense. They were my eating disorder talking
down at me.
I have lived with it from my early adolescence.
Listening to the soft whispers of cruelty. It has taken
me from being obese and overeating right through to
starving myself and believing that food is the ultimate
enemy.
It was not until I started lifting weights in 2016
that I was able to change my view on food. I began
to understand that food could be used as fuel for the
body, and when I ate a balanced meal, my workouts
improved. This was the ultimate motivator.
This shift in mindset also meant that while I started
my comp prep at around 65kg, I’d made it a priority to
not fixate on my weight as a number, but rather focus
on progress through my physical appearance.
Even though I’d made a promise to myself that, no
matter what, I would get up on that stage, I also didn’t
want to trigger my eating disorder — so, for the first
time in my life, I learnt how to lean on the people
around me and used them as a support network. I also
put what I was going to look like on stage in the back
of my mind and focused on the present moment. I fell
into a good routine and settled into prep life.SEVENTEEN
WEEKS OUT
My prosthetic foot completely snaps off. It happened
in the middle of the gym while I was dancing around
being free and happy.
Boom! My world shattered. I was in prep for a
bodybuilding comp: I needed my prosthetic legs to
work so I could train, so I could do cardio, so I could
keep on track.
At the hospital the next day, they
told me that it would be nearly
two weeks before I had
access to a new foot. To
say my stress levels
went up would be an
understatement. I
sat at home crying.
I felt alone,
thinking about
how most people
don’t have to
deal with this in
prep!
Am I pushing
too hard? Is it
worth it?
Questioning
whether it was
worth it made me snap
back into focus. Life has
challenges and it doesn’t
stop just because I’ve made the
decision to compete. So I took it in
my stride (so to speak!) and focused on what I
could do until a new foot was available.