BEYOND OBSESSION

Beyond Obsession: A Pro's story

There has been a lot of talk on the message boards lately about metabolic damage, and specifically, who is to blame for the perpetuation of contest-dieting-gone-wrong. People finger-point at trainers and gurus, but I say, why not rest the blame on the ultimate decision-maker: the individual who is competing.

I had an epiphany of sorts a while back. Have you ever been in a fabulous, swanky, chi-chi nightclub when it closes down, and they turn the lights on to kick you out? And what looked glamorous and filled with beautiful people is suddenly grungy, dirty, and full of drunks? That's sort of how I feel about my years of contest prep. Looking back, I realize that what I THOUGHT was focus and dedication and admirable work ethic was actually just stupidity on my part. And, that's a hard pill to swallow ... because I don't ever like to admit I am wrong.
I've been in over 15 shows and spent over 6 years of my life dieting for fitness and figure competitions. I've started my prep within 5 lbs of stage weight, and I've started it 30+ lbs OVER my show weight. I've done high carbs/low fat, carb cycling, ketosis, low intensity/long duration cardio, HIIT cardio, sprints, intervals. You name it? I've probably had it in my program at some point along the road. What I DIDN'T do was take care of my body and use common sense ... until recently.

You see, I was a woman obsessed ... obsessed with winning. Obsessed with getting a pro card. Obsessed with being harder/better/faster/stronger (okay, now I'm singing Kanye and seriously need to stop LOL). Anyway, you get the point. I thought the harder the program, the more restrictive the diet, the better I would be. Sure, for the short-term? My 100% adherence and religious dedication to my contest prep worked wonderfully. However, at one point in my competitive career, I did 7 shows within an 18 month time frame ... and guess what? My body stopped responding. No matter what I did? The weight wouldn't come off. Less food, more cardio? No problem. Push me harder. Starve me. I WANT this. I CAN do this. My trainer said, 'Sandi, enough's enough. You need to realize you are asking something ridiculous of your body. I'm not going to continue to push you because clearly, your body's giving you a huge 'f*&% you'. Take a vacation. Enjoy life. Focus on other things for a while and then come back to the diet. There's always another show.' NOT the words I wanted to hear; in fact, the ONLY words I wanted to hear were the announcement of my name and number by Sandy Ranalli-Williamson in center first callout. So, what did I do? I did extra cardio on the sly my next prep. And, when THAT ceased to work? I hired a new trainer.

Fast forward thru an offseason where I kept my weight within 7-8 lbs of stage weight ... because I did 'compensatory cardio' for all my off-plan eating. (As if an hour on the stepmill can even begin to erase a massive cheat meal, but that, my friends, is another rant altogether.) At the end of it, I sustained a major, crippling injury where I was unable to do little more than sit on the couch and eat for 3 months. I couldn't even put my foot on the gas pedal to drive, much less step down and grind like a hamster on a piece of cardio equipment. I couldn't even sleep at night I was in such severe pain. I felt like I'd lost everything in life that I held dear. So what did I do? I made a pan after pan of homemade brownies and drowned my sorrows in ghiradelli chocolate peanut butter chip oblivion. 30 lbs later, I slowly rehabbed myself to the point where I could do a simple cartwheel on a trampoline. At that point, I started my diet for the next pro qualifier. 10 weeks later, I was in the first callout, nailed my routine, and narrowly missed obtaining a pro card.

I continued down the road of dieting and cardio for another 2 months, only to narrowly miss again. I was absolutely crushed; I mean, beyond devastated. Crushed. I felt I'd given up so much for this. And, after months of endless dieting, I was suddenly without a meal plan; without a purpose. So, I slowly progressed myself back into a more 'normal', more sustainable way of eating. I learned to be more self-reliant and to listen to my body. When it said, 'I'm tired'? I'd rest. When it said, 'I'm hungry!", I'd eat. Then, the contest prep cycle began, and all that independence and inner strength went right out the window - again. My common sense was replaced with a ninja-like, laser-sharp focus where I stopped thinking and again did EXACTLY as I was told.

Looking back now at those experiences, I think I am definitely in a place to speak about the potential hazards of competing. I sort of walked the razor's edge of impending metabolic damage, and I place the blame for that firmly on my own shoulders. No trainer, no guru, no nutritionist, no one but ME. I prioritized competing and winning over my health and general happiness/well-being. No one MADE me do 3 hours of cardio a day or live on zero carbs or do walking lunges for 20 minutes to hit that stubborn glute fat. Nope, I CHOSE to go down that road, and I blame no one but myself. I CHOSE to do a million gazillion shows and not to gradually increase my calories to maintenance and cut my cardio for offseason. I CHOSE to prioritize my 100% adherence to my prep over my marriage and my friendships. I don't do that anymore.

Some might say I'm a hypocrite for advocating 'do as I say and not as I did' because now, I HAVE that elusive IFBB pro card. Some may say, 'Sure, easy for YOU to say that. You're a pro now and you CAN relax.' I say that I'm not 'relaxing' or 'taking the easy way', but rather? I like to say that I'm training SMARTER. I bust my a## in the gym. I religiously follow my nutritional plan year-round. And, do you know what? I love competing now more than ever because now, it's not my life: it's my hobby. My love. My 'baby'. It brings me more enjoyment, more personal satisfaction, more fulfillment than ever before. Wanna know WHY?

These days, my diet is more balanced. I'm doing cardio 2-3x/week, and I'm 3 weeks out from a show. I have yet to do a two-a-day cardio (nor will this ever be in my plan) or eat a single protein source more than 2x in a single day. When I get to a show, I have energy to actually enjoy the company of the other competitors backstage. And, I don't have this burning desire to eat everything that isn't nailed down once the show is over. My husband, my friends, and my family now SUPPORT me in my competitive endeavors because I actually have time and energy to do 'normal', social things. I don't vanish into diet 'lockdown' anymore; I live a relatively 'normal' life. Heck, at 3 weeks out, I was at World of Beer having a grand old time! Granted, I had my food, not a beer, but you get my point.

The point to this long ramble is that competing CAN be fun ... if you let it. By taking care of your body, feeding your metabolism (rather than damaging it), and listening to your body when it tells you it's on the verge of breaking down, you CAN enjoy a long competitive career AND still wear your skinny jeans in the offseason. (Oh yes...the offseason! Did I mention I no longer have 2 wardrobes: skinny and fat? Nope, same clothes year round.) You CAN have it all and you CAN win shows while doing it. It's not a war of who eats the least or does the most cardio; it's a contest of who presents the most aesthetically appealing package onstage on any given day. But, more importantly than that? I say it's a battle of internal victories; a battle to make this way of eating and training a lifestyle, where the show is just a pit stop along a larger journey.

Hopefully, others can learn from my experience and honesty. I know that in an industry where external perfection is prized above all else, we sometimes like to pretend we are also perfect on the INSIDE. I'm not too proud to admit that I'm flawed and insecure and have made more than my fair share of mistakes. Nope, nope, just like my physique, my inner beauty is a work in progress as well. Every year, I learn a little more, I get a little stronger, I get a little wiser. My mistakes make me who I am, and even though I don't like to MAKE them? I choose to own them and use them to make me better.
- Sandi