Thursday, late morning. My body is cold. Nerves keep me from warming up, and the cloudy Chicago sky doesn't help any. From my grandmother's living room windows, I can see the trees swaying in the light breeze, much like my insides. I will probably arrive at the hotel around two o'clock. All food is cooked, portioned out into individual servings, sitting all cozy and neat in their little baggies. Cold chicken. Cold egg whites. Cold steak. Cold potatoes. Cold broccoli. Cold Jodi. I'm smirking right now, so even in this state of anxiety, I still have my wit about me (notice I didn't say "wits"; is anyone who does these shows truly sane?).

I haven't posted any progress pictures, but I can describe my physique to you at this moment. I'm sitting at the computer, allowing my legs to relax and continue draining water. Lime green sweat pants that are way too long for my short legs keep me covered. A matching lime green tank top definitely defeats the purpose of remaining warm. I should put a cover up on, but I'll be heading into the shower soon. My muscles are a little on the flat side, which is good. I wouldn't want to be full and pumped with 40 hours to go until stage time. Many people who are unaware of how to prepare for these shows assume you should be walking around with contest-day shape plastered all over your body. If I looked too good a week out, then I should be worried. The fact that I began to hold water earlier this week probably meant that my body was protecting itself, saving itself for the right moment, when the spotlight would join me on stage.

My veins are playing a game of hide-and-seek. The carbs are being added into every other meal, giving my body a chance to digest and utilize them. Thus, the veins won't always be apparent; but hopefully with the addition of a touch of preserves and a bit of potato and a lot of pumping up backstage, the veins will announce themselves on stage.

My legs are down in size. This is the hardest and smallest I've seen them this year. My glutes are very evident. When I bend over, the lines in my hamstrings shout out loudly, saying, "Look at me; I'm here!" The moon pose would be right up my alley at this point. Now, the addition of that pose in the figure shows would definitely reinforce the notion of "T&A Show" that many have accused figure shows of being. Honestly, two to three more weeks of dieting and cardio work would put me in the realm of NABBA figure competitors. I'm walking a tightrope, though. I've discussed this before, but the moment my legs look great is the moment that my shoulders look smaller and flat. The moment my shoulders fill out to the appropriate size that the judges might be aiming for is the moment that my legs begin to spill over and look too thick. Every meal, every morsel of food from this point on is geared towards remaining balanced on the tightrope. I cannot pinpoint which Jodi will be stepping on stage tomorrow night or Saturday morning. My body reacts and changes that quickly, and that is what creates much of my anxiety.

I must remain calm, though. I must have faith in my physique. There's nothing more I can do now. I can sit, with my feet propped up, and wait. Almost 20 shows under my belt, and you'd think the butterflies would go back to their cocoons and leave me be. But they continue to flutter, stretching their wings and forcing me to examine all my fears, concerns, and worries. Maybe that's a beautiful thing, though. If I wasn't nervous, wouldn't that exhibit arrogance?

And once again, I'm rambling. Let me focus on the positives. I've done everything I can possibly do to get ready for this show. My one wish is to step onto that stage with a smile on my face and pride overflowing the rims of my heart and to walk off that stage with both of those intact. If I've accomplished that, then I have achieved what I came here to do. Anything else is icing on my carrot cake. :)

Again, thank you for your support. I will call JT tomorrow night to let him know of the call outs. Let the games begin!

Jodi