I was there for my husband. No, not because he was on stage, oiled up and flexing his muscles, but because he had coached someone to compete in one of the women's categories. Did you know there were different categories at bodybuilding shows? For women, no less? I didn't. Oh, my husband had tried many times to tell me all about the competitions and the various levels and the fact that not all the women are the huge she-male, musclebound, unfeminine type, but I wouldn't believe it until I saw for myself.
Lo and behold, there they were - lots of women who looked like women, all (or most, at least) in fabulous shape. Depending on the level at which they were competing, they were in different states of leanness and muscle size and definition, but, with the exception of a couple freaky-weird people I'm still not convinced were actually women, they didn't look alien to me. They didn't look like women trying to be men. In fact, they looked quite good. In further fact, I was a little jealous. (Lethal combination of competitiveness and vanity kicking in. Damn.)
My husband has been trying to convince me to enter a competition for some time and train to get myself into prime physical shape. I've resisted so far. It's not that I don't want to put myself through the training required; I actually love the idea of pushing myself, mentally and physically, to get into such shape. I've resisted for two reasons:
1) I had the image of a true female bodybuilder in mind and I have no desire to get into that kind of physical shape. I like being a girl and looking like one. I like my muscles just about the size they are, thank you very much.
2) I just cannot imagine myself parading across a stage in a bikini and high heels, oiled up and tan, with a full face of makeup and hair blown out in a big do. SO NOT ME!
So, what did I find when I actually attended a show? Oh, yes, I did feel a little odd-man-out even in the crowd. Many of the female attendees were nearly as made up as the contestants and were wearing tight jeans, heels, revealing tops, and there I was in my cute vintage blouse, black pants and converse sneakers.
In truth, though, it wasn't as bad as I thought. As far as the contestants went, there were women who looked like men but there were also women who looked like gorgeous, fit women. There were women who were so spray tanned that they looked orange or green-brown, but most could actually walk down the street without turning heads. There were quite a few women who were so made up and had such big hair that they looked like muscled beauty pageant contestants, but there were a few who looked more like the gal who lives next door with a little extra blush and lip gloss.
So I'm thinking......maybe this would be fun, maybe this is something I should do before we move......maybe, maybe, maybe. I'd choose the Figure Competition level, which means being super lean and being judged solely on muscle symmetry and tone (not size - meaning, no huge bulging bodybuilding muscles).
I actually started the diet and training a couple weeks ago to get myself into shape, just in case, and now I'm just about ready to register for a competition in San Francisco in October. Gulp. Will I actually do it? Stay Tuned.
