Prep Files - I guess we're doing this!

Prep Files - I guess we're doing this!

Back in January, I made a post about deciding not to do a bodybuilding competition - it’s expensive, stressful, and not exactly objective in terms of the judging criteria. To be really blunt about it, a lot of competitors also have some kind of eating disorder, and I don’t want to go through that again after dealing with bulimia in my early 20s.

But you know how it is when you have an itch you just have to scratch? Even though I’d unfollowed a lot of professional bodybuilders in January, there were still a few fitness influencers that I followed, and TikTok and Instagram continued to show me more of them. I know comparison is the thief of joy, but lately when I look at those kinds of images, I just think “I could do that.” It’s possible that I’ve just cracked and am totally delulu, but I don’t think so. I’ve put in my time at the gym, and I’ve got the muscles to prove it. I’ll need to lose 15-20 pounds to be competitive, which doesn’t sound fun, but it doesn’t seem as insurmountable as it did a year or 2 ago.

I still have the same concerns about competing as I did a few months ago, but here’s why I’m not letting them stop me, and my vision for what I want my bodybuilding prep to look like.


“Competing is too expensive.”

Competing in a bodybuilding competition isn’t cheap, and can be insanely expensive if you let it be. Costs include:

  1. NPC card - $150 (good for 1 calendar year)

  2. Entry fees - $100-300+ per division

  3. Competition bikini - $300-500+

  4. Hair and makeup - $250-300

  5. Tanning - $150+

  6. Coaching - I don’t even know. Potentially $1000s per year

The only things on that list that you absolutely have to do, though, are pay your fees, so that’s what I’m planning to do. Hair and makeup, tanning, and the bikini will be DIY, and frankly hell will probably freeze over before I’d pay someone to tell me to eat plain rice and chicken and do 2 hours of cardio a day. All total, I’ll still probably end up spending about $500, but that still feels more reasonable to me than the $1000s that some competitors pay.

“Bodybuilding is just a beauty pageant with muscles.”

A bodybuilding competition is, in fact, a beauty pageant with muscles, which means that whether I win or lose, the outcome is totally subjective and largely outside of my control. That thought used to scare me - how will I feel if I lose? Will I be able to keep a healthy perspective, or am I going to spiral?

The thing that’s helping me feel more comfortable with competing, whatever the outcome may be, is realizing how silly a bodybuilding competition is. Seriously - watch a video of a bodybuilding competition, and try and tell me it’s not goofy as hell. The tans, the poses, the specific way you’re supposed to walk away from the judges so that your glutes don’t bounce too much. I believe that I’ll be able to deliver a competitive physique, so if I lose because of the rhinestone placement on my bikini… well, it’s hard to take that particularly seriously.

“Bodybuilders all have eating disorders.”

The extreme diets are what I like least about bodybuilding. I do think that a lot of bodybuilders have eating disorders, or at least eat in a way that looks pretty disordered from the outside - subsisting on pickles, mustard, and diet coke, pushing their body fat % so low that they no longer menstruate. Binge eating seems to be a big issue post-show, and even those who are mentally healthy often find they have physical side effects, such as hormone imbalances.

I’m planning to approach my prep a little differently from what I see from other competitors. It seems like within American bodybuilding, there’s a distinct food culture that revolves around a very limited diet - chicken, rice, shredded lettuce, gimmicky protein foods. I’m planning to eat how I normally eat, focusing on whole foods and lots of veggies, but still enjoying my favorites (ice cream and fried chicken) in smaller portions.

While it’s possible that I won’t “lean out” enough to be competitive, I’m not super worried about it for a couple of reasons. !) I tend to show muscle a lot, even at a higher body fat. 2) My healthy-ish relationship with food is more important to me than winning.

The Plan

Ok, so I’m competing - now what?

May-August: Maintain + Grow

Right now, my weight is sitting at around 149 - a little lighter than I normally am, but maintainable. I’d like to stay at around this weight for the next few month, keeping my diet consistent and really pushing my training. I’m feeling pretty good about my physique, but I’d like to round out my glutes and shoulders a bit more before I start trying to drop weight.

August-November: Cut

My goal weight come stage time is somewhere between 132-137, depending on how things are looking. That’s a bit higher than the normal weight range of a competitor my height (that would be more like 121-129), but I literally cannot imagine what I’d look like at that weight. A skeleton made of beef jerky is the image that comes to mind…

That gives me 3 months to lose between 15-20 pounds, which works out to losing .5-1.5 pounds a week. I considered doing a shorter cut, but I think having 12 weeks to do a slower, gentler cut will be easier on my mental state.

November-December: Hit the Stage

To get the most out of my NPC card, I’m going to do 2 shows this year - the Midwest Gladiator November 2nd and the NPC Mid-American Winter Classic on December 7th. Both are national qualifiers, and while I’m trying not to get my hopes up, the fantasy is that I place well, go onto nationals, and get a pro card my first time out. (That’s not what’s going to happen, but shoot for the moon or whatever, right?)

Show #1 is what I’m most excited for - originally it was the only one I was planning on doing, with the goal being to just do it and get it out of my system instead of wondering what it’s like to compete. I don’t want to spend $150 on an NPC card just to use it once, though, and doing a second show where I can make adjustments and correct mistakes seems like it would only improve my chances of success.

Final Thoughts

I still feel deeply ambivalent about this sport, if that wasn’t clear from literally everything else that I wrote. But I’m a competitive person, and I’m also just really fucking proud of the work that I’ve done these last few years. The physical changes are obvious to the point that strangers comment on it (which is a whole other topic that I’d love to come back to another day), but it’s the mental changes that are having the biggest impact on my life.

Lifting weights has shown me that I can push myself. Even when it’s hard, I show up and I do my best. I can set small goals and achieve them in a specific time frame. I feel so much more comfortable in my body than I ever have before. I want to win, but it’s not just about that; competing will give me a stretch goal to work towards, and that something I’ve realized I need.

I don’t know how competing is going to impact me, but I feel confident in my ability to handle what comes - even if I’m doing it looking like an Oompa Loompa in a sparkly bikini.