Training has been stepped up a bit. I have less than five weeks until the Junior USA's and about five to six pounds to lose. Half of that is water, so I'm not worried about the actual numbers on the scale. I'm concerned with what I see in the mirror.

Veins have begun to creep along my lower abs, my pelvic bones, my forearms, my biceps, my shoulders. I can even feel them in my calves if I close my eyes hard enough and wish. The veins become more evident as the night wears on. I'm finding it harder and harder to get to sleep, which seems to be a symptom of dieting and extensive cardio. At least, this is what I hear from other competitors. I think it's a symptom of being obsessive compulsive and always thinking there is something else to work on, to improve upon, to fix within. Contest worries infiltrate my dreams, so sleep has become a restless activity.

I have moments in the gym when I catch brief glimpses of myself in the mirrors that line the walls. My heart begins to thump with the same force as a large dog's tail against hardwood floors; excitement can barely be contained, for I see symmetry and shape, conditioning and muscularity appearing quite close to my expectations. The moment always passes, and a flaw peeks through; it's like a dark cloud appearing out of nowhere in a clear blue sky. I think of the other girls and tell myself, "I must work harder." It worked today. I went up to 150 pounds on the T-bar rows. Well, actually, I did 160, but my form was a bit off. I won't sacrifice too much form for too much weight. Then you don't accomplish the right type of muscle growth; you're just utilizing other muscle groups when you're supposed to be focusing on one in particular. I used 50 pound dumbbells for one arm rows at the end of a tough, but short back workout. I can't risk overtraining and eating into the muscle. I'm scared I won't be big enough. In the next second, I'm scared I'll be too big. I can't reach that coveted level of satisfaction.

My cardio sessions have become two-a-days. I'm doing cardio seven days a week and am in the midst of a new novel...a Terry McMillan one. Sprints have infiltrated my schedule as well. I do these begrudgingly, with a lot of whining, moping, and complaining. Then I finally step outside, take the first few runs, and feel like a million bucks. So much energy wasted in the complaining, and yet I return to it at the beginning of each sprint workout. You'd think I'd learn. But it's the only thing I truly detest in the entire process. Well, that and the tanning in the days prior to the show.

The one image that sticks in my mind since the Arnold? Monica Brant. Here's a woman who has placed second three consecutive times. She still competes. Why? I couldn't answer that, for I'm not inside her mind, but the following paragraph from John Steinbeck's, "The Pearl", might provide a bit of an answer:

"But Kino sat on the ground and stared at the earth in front of him. he watched the ants moving, a little column of them near to his foot, and he put his foot in their path. Then the column climbed over his instep and continued on its way, and Kino left his foot there and watched them move over it."

I'd like to think I'm an ant. Small and stubborn. That's what I'd like to think I am.

What are you? How do you treat life? How do you deal with obstacles? Just some food for thought for all of us. I seem to become more aware of my mortality, my creativity, my abstractness when I diet down. To watch your body change day by day is absolutely fascinating. You feel like you have the world in your hands. And you realize how quickly it can all disappear.

I think I will actually head to bed now. My eyes are getting a bit droopy and I'm rambling, as I always seem to eventually do. I'll be back in the next couple of days. I still owe y'all more details about the Arnold. I just had to post the Steinbeck quote. I've been sitting on it for days now, trying to figure out exactly how I wanted to use it. I like when my thoughts all come together.

Have a happy St. Patrick's Day!

Jodi