There I was, a chiseled specimen of hard-earned lean physique, posing on a stage in full view of a panel of scrutinizing judges...waiting for a tangible validation that all these months of intentional hard work had indeed been worth it!
This is how I daily visualized my recent body-building competition. I broke each element down in preparation for the big event. Discipline became my life. Intentionally consuming higher amounts of food to build muscle, only to then reduce my food intake in order to lean out. I woke up early to lift weights. I controlled my environment, manipulated my mind - because I had the end goal in my sights.
One month ago, the trajectory was favorable. Muscles became defined as my body leaned out. I felt confident. Yet, circumstances beyond my control began interfering. At first, it was minor; a urinary tract infection (UTI). Once treated with antibiotics, my body was back on track. Yet, just two weeks later a seemingly innocent question hit me like a gut-punch. "Are you pregnant?" someone inquired. To my horror, my mid-section displayed what did look like a baby bump! Upon further exploration however, I discovered my insides were merely full of sh*t!
At this point, with only 2 weeks left until competition, the path took an abrupt turn, as I began to empty myself. Utilizing a series of stool softeners, enemas, smooth move tea, MiraLAX, and even an incredible Chinese abdominal massage (aka “poop” massage); I achieved the 'movement' needed to produce a clean and lean gut.
However, at 4 days until showtime, I faced yet another obstacle - dehydration. Both my calves and quads began cramping every time I practiced posing. Fear set in as I imagined walking on stage in 5-inch heels only to fall on my face due to severe cramping. And so, once again I shifted gears, and followed protocol for dehydration - adding Himalayan salt to my water and sipping Pedialyte.
With only 2 days left, just when I needed to minimize distractions and sail into the big day with confidence, I felt another UTI coming on. At this point, discouragement and exhaustion set in. The end goal began to appear blurry – it was there... but the lens I peered through was out of focus.
After a series of
rapid texting with my coach – I re-focused on these words: “this is a journey." Pondering this phrase while traversing the 9 hour cross-country trek to the competition site, I glanced down. Nestled just below my smart watch, a cuff bracelet with these words etched into steady steel read: “Find joy in the journey.” A new truth took center stage in my mind.
Even now, post competition, I'm asking myself: “Did I find joy in the prep journey?” ... or was I too focused on standing on stage in hopes of receiving an award?
Seasons of preparation parallel so many realities in life. I now ask:
Am I finding joy as I parent my 3 strong, young, alpha males?
Am I finding joy as I walk through these last few weeks before my husband deploys and I will be single-parenting for a year?
Am I finding joy in all the unseen work of motherhood: cleaning, cooking, laundry, etc.?
As I re-enter daily life, my heels and suit are now packed away. My medal joins the others on the shelf to collect dust. Yet, I cling to what I've learned - with a circumcised heart. I poignantly walk away knowing I can find joy in the journey... whatever the journey...whatever the task. Because ultimately, my joy comes from the Lord - not my circumstances.
I pray the words of Psalm 16:11:
“You make known to me the path of life; You will fill me with joy in Your presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand.”