My Journey
I started lifting in the fall of 2012. It was the first time I found a form of exercise that I actually enjoyed. I didn't have to force myself to go to the gym. Instead, I looked forward to it. I literally sat at work all day daydreaming about what I was going to do at the gym when I got off. Every day I spent lifting was another chance to challenge myself, another opportunity to be better than the person I was the day before, and another day closer to achieving my goals. I was instantly hooked on all the feelings of motivation, strength, and confidence that lifting awoke inside of me.
I spent a year in the gym before stepping on stage for the first time. Roughly half of that time was spent in a caloric surplus building as much muscle as possible, and the other half was spent in a long and slow fat loss phase dieting down for my competition. Even in competition prep, where many people tend to feel miserable and sluggish, I felt alive. Implementing flexible dieting and performing minimal cardio allowed me to live a balanced life without my prep consuming me. Finally stepping on stage was the cumulation of all my hard work. It felt so rewarding. I loved it. I placed 4th, but to me, it felt like 1st. As cliche as it sounds, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be, doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. From the minute I stepped off stage, I knew I couldn't wait to do it all over again.
I would have loved to have more time to build, and looking back, that's really not that much time to make gains. (Muscle building in the natural athlete is a slow process. I'd be lucky to gain about 1 lb. of muscle per month, which is what I'm working on now.) But I'm also glad that I decided to compete when I did, because it opened my eyes to something I'm truly passionate about. Never in my 25 years of life have I been so intensely interested in (perhaps obsessed with) something.
I've trained and coached myself since day 1. I've spent an extraordinary amount of time researching my questions, finding scientific and evidence based answers, and fumbling through trial and error. (I sometimes feel like a mad scientist, using my body as my science experiment, but there really is no substitution for trial and error.) I love researching training and nutrition. Just like the training itself, where every day is a another day to improve, researching presents ever growing opportunities to learn. I will never be done learning.
I sometimes become frustrated with the constant bro-science and gym-lore that just refuses to die in the fitness industry. Not just sub-optimal training or nutrition protocols, but I mean outright dangerous practices with serious implications.
Perhaps the one that sticks out most in my mind is guru competition prep coaches prescribing low-calorie cookie-cutter diets and meal plans, along with excessive cardio, setting their athletes up for post-competition binge/guilt/restrict cycles, rebound fat gain, disordered eating patterns, and metabolic adaptations... I'm sure I'll touch on this in future posts. I often say that this lifestyle saved my life. Learning about proper nutrition saved me from my own disordered eating patterns, so when I think of this same lifestyle creating those problems for others, I have a huge problem with it.
Realizing the unhealthy side of this lifestyle (and that these guru techniques are full of shit) motivated me to coach myself on my own journey and to prove that health and competing don't have to be mutually exclusive. I cringe when I hear what some of my fellow competitors are doing to themselves. (Or should I say, what their coaches are telling them to do.) People deserve better, and I feel the need to pay it forward and to spread the word that THERE IS A BETTER WAY.
So I guess that's where I've been, my story, and where I'm coming from. It also leads me into where I'm going and what I want to do with this blog. Like I said, I'm never done learning, and I want to share my knowledge and my journey along the way.
I spent a year in the gym before stepping on stage for the first time. Roughly half of that time was spent in a caloric surplus building as much muscle as possible, and the other half was spent in a long and slow fat loss phase dieting down for my competition. Even in competition prep, where many people tend to feel miserable and sluggish, I felt alive. Implementing flexible dieting and performing minimal cardio allowed me to live a balanced life without my prep consuming me. Finally stepping on stage was the cumulation of all my hard work. It felt so rewarding. I loved it. I placed 4th, but to me, it felt like 1st. As cliche as it sounds, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be, doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. From the minute I stepped off stage, I knew I couldn't wait to do it all over again.
I would have loved to have more time to build, and looking back, that's really not that much time to make gains. (Muscle building in the natural athlete is a slow process. I'd be lucky to gain about 1 lb. of muscle per month, which is what I'm working on now.) But I'm also glad that I decided to compete when I did, because it opened my eyes to something I'm truly passionate about. Never in my 25 years of life have I been so intensely interested in (perhaps obsessed with) something.
I've trained and coached myself since day 1. I've spent an extraordinary amount of time researching my questions, finding scientific and evidence based answers, and fumbling through trial and error. (I sometimes feel like a mad scientist, using my body as my science experiment, but there really is no substitution for trial and error.) I love researching training and nutrition. Just like the training itself, where every day is a another day to improve, researching presents ever growing opportunities to learn. I will never be done learning.
I sometimes become frustrated with the constant bro-science and gym-lore that just refuses to die in the fitness industry. Not just sub-optimal training or nutrition protocols, but I mean outright dangerous practices with serious implications.
Perhaps the one that sticks out most in my mind is guru competition prep coaches prescribing low-calorie cookie-cutter diets and meal plans, along with excessive cardio, setting their athletes up for post-competition binge/guilt/restrict cycles, rebound fat gain, disordered eating patterns, and metabolic adaptations... I'm sure I'll touch on this in future posts. I often say that this lifestyle saved my life. Learning about proper nutrition saved me from my own disordered eating patterns, so when I think of this same lifestyle creating those problems for others, I have a huge problem with it.
Realizing the unhealthy side of this lifestyle (and that these guru techniques are full of shit) motivated me to coach myself on my own journey and to prove that health and competing don't have to be mutually exclusive. I cringe when I hear what some of my fellow competitors are doing to themselves. (Or should I say, what their coaches are telling them to do.) People deserve better, and I feel the need to pay it forward and to spread the word that THERE IS A BETTER WAY.
So I guess that's where I've been, my story, and where I'm coming from. It also leads me into where I'm going and what I want to do with this blog. Like I said, I'm never done learning, and I want to share my knowledge and my journey along the way.
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