I'm full of hilarious stories, especially ones that give you another opportunity to laugh at yours truly (note the word "at" and not "with").

Imagine the following scenario:  A calm, peaceful drive home with the color of cotton candy drifting through the evening sky.  Ominous, charcoal clouds hiding in the distance.  Windshield barren of anything but a few spare bugs here and there.  I take my exit, travel over the bridge, and within two miles of my home witness plump drops of water splattering onto my car.  The timing couldn't have been better.  Within moments, the downpour began, drenching everything in sight and blurring vision.  Winds picked up speed, and I felt the car wavering a bit as I steered towards my parking spot beneath the carport.  There may as well not have been any cover; rain droplets brushed against me as the wind pushed them hard in every direction.  I rushed to get my bags, my feet ankle deep in a conveniently located puddle...on the driver's side of the car.  Did I happen to mention my footwear?  Flip flops.  Yes...flip flops.  Now that's protective gear for you!

I glanced towards the stairwell several yards away, watched the winds become angrier, and blinked away the water already dripping down my face.  I hadn't yet stepped foot out of the carport and I was already getting soaked.  Running for it seemed like a good idea until I actually did it.  Never run in flip flops, especially when they're soaked and your feet feel like they are standing in a slippery bathtub.  If you didn't know it before this incident, you were sure to find out:  Grace is not my middle name.  So there I went, waddling like a duck (tail and all) towards the stairwell when I encountered a river.  I swear it was a river...currents and all!  I could have gone snorkeling in it!  Okay, so I'm exaggerrating again (surprise!), but I had to decide on whether to make a jump over it or splash through it.  Well, I splashed...and splashed...and splashed (and nearly lost a flip flop).  Jumping was not an option.  You have seen my legs, right?  You do remember how short I am?  Not a chance I'd make it over that body of water.  So yes, I splish splashed my way to the stairs, held onto the railing to keep myself from slipping as I climbed upwards, and heaved my bags into the foyer and got those worthless flip flops off of my feet before traipsing onto the carpet.

Sigh...the sky's timing and my schedule are not agreeing with each other!

But Amanda's is!  We train shoulders tomorrow!  I need this girl to give me a kick up the backside and get these shoulders bigger!  Grow delts, grow!!!  Lol!

And then it's off to a shoot with Dan Ray on Saturday.  Hmmm...do I foresee a bicep workout with clips and photos to boot?!  Wait and see!

G'night!

Jodi :)

I was right!  I stepped outside this morning and smelled the air and found that I was right...about the rain last night.  It smells like warm spice bread, a hint of cinnamon and just a slight touch of orange.  What in the world creates that smell after a rain?  And it's usually when the downpour occurs at night, and then the sun blinks its eyes and begins its ascent into the sky.  Have you noticed that?  Wait for the next nightly storm, and then wake up the next morning and step outside, and then take a deep breath.  It's truly wondrous!

Water, a symbol for rebirth.  Today, the sky has poured out its tears, dumped its sadness into the laps of Dallas residents, and doesn't show any signs of letting up.  I know that tomorrow morning, when I wake up and stumble outside to walk to the fitness center and do my cardio session, I will smell the air, the aftermath of the crying session, and know that a catharsis has occurred.  Can't you smell it already?

I see my recent episode of depression as this same catharsis.  Days of tears have led into a rebirth of emotion for me.

I stepped into the gym today and benched 95 pounds for sets of 10.  You wouldn't think much of it, but when I was powerlifting, I did 95 pounds for two- and three-rep sets.  I've grown.  Yeah, sure...my muscles have grown.  That's obvious.  But I've grown inside.  I'm ready to step out of my bounds and discover the world, take a few chances, and achieve my dreams.

I've been kicking around the idea of doing tutoring full time.  The school year begins within a week or two after I return from New York, and I have a business plan all set up.  Once the ball begins rolling and parents begin talking, my schedule should be full.  I miss the classroom.  I miss providing tools to students for them to mold their minds, much like I mold my body.  I want to see lightbulbs popping up everywhere, eyes widening as the mind expands, and success being fulfilled.  I think this is the best route for me.  I don't miss the binding cuffs of the administration, but I do miss the joy of teaching.

One thing that has really helped lately is my friendship with Amanda Savell.  I've needed a girlfriend within the same city to lean on, chat with, shop with, prepare for shows with, lend a helping hand to, etc.  I have friends all over the country...all over the world, in fact.  And I could e-mail any one of them and have motivating words and virtual shoulders.  But nothing replaces a person's physical presence.  Amanda and I will be working out together once or twice a week.  In fact, I'm heading over to see her tomorrow.

The rain just stopped.  I noticed that suddenly.  The air is quiet except for the few drip drips of water off of the glistening leaves in the night sky.  Do you know what it is to be alive?  How lucky we really are?  I want to hold onto this moment, bask in the clarity of it, and carry it with me into the future when the rains come back.

Jodi

I had to get that off of my chest.  Don't ask me why, but just know that it had a purpose.

Let's move on to much more upbeat things, like causing utter turmoil and devastation to shoulders, one of my weakest muscle groups on the figure stage.

My front delts are sore.  Now, that doesn't seem too unusual, except that I don't remember the last time that I actually felt the front delt--by itself--and realized that a slight achiness could still linger even days after performing an excruciating shoulder routine.  I suppose by now you want to me shut up and get on with the workout?  No!  I want to talk.  Okay, okay, you twisted my arm.  Besides, I desperately want to tell you about all the exercises because this was so invigorating to come up with a routine all by myself and really tear my shoulders to pieces.  (These images are a little gruesome, but it really feels like I destroyed my delts!)

I started off with a two warm up sets of side laterals, which I always do at the beginning of my workout.  The difference this day was that I actually concentrated.  I picked up the puny five-pound dumbbells and did a set of 25, very controlled, very slow, very steady.  That pushed some blood into the side delts.  Then, after maybe a 90-second break, I picked up the ten-pound dumbbells and repeated the exercise for 20 reps this time.  Still very controlled, very slow, very steady.  At this point, my delts burned just a bit, and I was ready for action.

With 15-pound dumbbells in hands, I continued doing side lateral raises.  The weight was lighter than what I had done the previous week (by about ten pounds), but the key was that I did this weight for sets of 20, and when I finished, I picked up the ten-pound dumbbells and really tore into those delts.  Every single rep was done properly:  elbow almost exactly parallel to the shoulder joint, held there for a brief millisecond, lowered down slowly, and brought right back up with a very controlled pace.  No throwing the weights around, no allowing the weights to drop.  If I couldn't get the arms up to the proper level, then I did partials and didn't allow the arms to drop in front of me and instead kept them to my sides, which meant that I did not let up on the tension for the delts.  Talk about pain!  You should have seen the faces I was making (there's nothing pretty about me in the gym; no...awww, ain't she cute remarks either!).

Four sets of this, guys!  Four sets.  So, the volume was increased as well.  I then moved on to the lying side laterals.  There's a description of how to do this exercise properly on the public site's message board, so feel free to check it out.  These are awesome!  But they're a little tough on the ego because you can't use enormous amounts of weight.  I had to rely on the little ten-pounders and just really fight through the reps and watch my form.  It was worth it.  My side delts looked like little hills on the side of my arms.  Nice!!

I was nowhere near done.  Nowhere near it!

I need to stop for a moment and move onto a tangent.  I just read an e-mail from Jody May that really made me smile.  We did that shoot together with Jon Howard, and she was just expressing a bunch of appreciation for some tips I had given her in terms of nutrition (notably protein intake and veggie intake) and how much better she felt as a result and also her thanks for helping her throughout the shoot (I did her make up for the last couple of sets).  She told me she supported me in my decisions and thought I would make a wonderful bodybuilder, and that really was nice!  I guess I bring this up because the true reason for being in the industry is to have friends like this.  To know that I can turn to her, to Nicole, to Amanda, to Jen, to Michelle, to Marcy, to Cindy, to Stephanie, to soooo many girls and they return the favor by turning to me when they need help, advice, and motivation is the most wonderful part of competing.  We may compete against each in front of the judges, but we support each other in life.

Now back to our regularly scheduled shoulder program.

I decided to do Arnold presses.  I hadn't done these in several months.  In fact, I don't think I've done these this year.  Maybe in off season?  I can't even remember (they say the hearing goes first, but I think it's the mind; those darn thirties!).  Anyway, I did three sets of Arnold presses, but I supersetted them with a lighter weight and did regular, seated overhead presses with the dumbbells.  The key to the overhead presses this time around was not locking out my elbows.  I moved my arms in more of an arc motion, so that when I reached the top of the exercise, my elbows had about a ten-degree bend in them, rather than a straight, locked joint.  This activated the fibers in the delts much more readily and aided in keeping my traps out of the exercise (there was no lifting through the scapula).  I really think this exercise is what completely killed my delts.  I remember getting off of the seat and wanting to sit right back down again.  I could only hold my arms at my sides and grit my teeth against the pain.  Whatever it was, it was worth it!  My delts looked huuuuge!!

Okay, so I exaggerate.  They looked big for a munchkinite like me.

I then did two different rear delt exercises:  bent over rear laterals with dumbbells (palms facing the body throughout the entirety of the exercise) and then rear pec deck with a drop set on the final set.  This was actually Jody May's idea...doing two different rear delt exercises, and I really liked it.  A lot!  See, that's another reason to have good girlfriends.  We all share ideas on how to get bigger, better muscles (or in Amanda's case and my own, smaller legs, which I still question the possibility of attaining).

I did do one set of front lateral raises.  One set.  I couldn't feel my delts anymore, and when you can't feel the muscle, you have actually brought it to failure.  Well, assuming you can feel the muscle in the first place.  We've talked about the mind-muscle connection, so if you aren't even experiencing a muscle contraction when you begin the workout, then there's a whole other matter to examine.  I'll have to get into that one day.  Not today though.  I have a second session of cardio to do before the night is over.

Anyway, three days later, and the pain still resides in my shoulders.  I don't mind its company.  It means that I might actually have some growth out of this workout, and I think I'll try the grouping of exercises again and see what happens next week.  Stay tuned for the results!

Jodi

 

"To the uneducated, an A is just three sticks."  Poohisms are grand, aren't they?  I ran across this quote the other day while thumbing through my Pooh's Little Instruction Book, and it entered my mind just now.

Many people will often make a judgment of someone else without completely understanding the big picture, so they only see the parts and not the entirety.  To me, this can be a downfall.  It's like the three blind mice who only felt here and felt there and imagined different items when in reality it was an elephant standing before them.  If you aren't willing to wait and watch things unfold, then in essence, you are truly blind.

It's the same with bodybuilding.  If I only see my front delt, my vastus lateralis, my obliques, or my bicep femoris, then I lose sight of the whole being that will present itself on the stage one day.  Sure, I need to take a look at every detail and perfect them all, but if I only zero in on one thing and put blinders on to the rest of my physique, then I will always fall short of my goal and avoid growth, not just in the body, but in the mind.

It's like this with judgment of other people.  Sometimes we only see one particular action, but we haven't taken the time to reflect upon the decision making process that went into performing that action.  We haven't looked into the future to see where this action might lead, to allow our eyes to travel down all different roads, good and bad.  And we haven't combined this particular action with a slew of others being made at the same point in time.  This is being close minded.

I made a decision to expand my horizons and try a few new looks for my portfolio.  But this wasn't child's play.  This was not dress-up time.  This was no tea party.  Yes, I had enormous amounts of fun, and I walked away with a smile on my face, but more importantly, I walked away with pride surging in my chest, with tears in my eyes because I felt that I had begun to appreciate my body.  Isn't that what bodybuilding is ultimately about?  Appreciation of oneself?

We spend so much time putting others down for their shortcomings that we never sit back and examine our own lives and try to discover why we need to question another person's personal choices.  I guess I ask you that now.  Have you ever looked at someone and said, "What in the world made him or her do that?"  Have you gossiped about it to someone else?  I think very few of us could keep our hands in our laps on those questions.  I'm guilty of this too, but the more I break out of my shell, and the more comfortable I become in my skin, the less I feel I should judge another person's choices, for that leads to hypocriticism, which is a major difference from constructive criticism.

So again, I made the choice to do some photos that are outside my realm of normality.  And I'm pleased with the results.  If you are not, you are entitled to that opinion, but please do not judge me for my decisions.  Instead, bask in the glory that you have an opinion and you have options on this site to see so many different views of me.  And there are many.  There are so many.  Remember, yesterday I compared myself to a kaleidoscope.  So if there is one gallery you don't like, take a turn of the dial and take a new view and see a new gallery.  There's something here for everyone.  For everyone.

By the way, if you've peeked inside of the site updates section of the message board and have taken a look at the "Brace Yourselves" thread, then you get an inkling of the intensity inside of me when I workout.  The poisoned stockings, the black boots, the wild hair, the angry make up.  Those are my emotions at work in the gym.  That's symbolic of me and the weights.  When I'm on fire, when I'm at my best, I attack the gym with a vengeance.  I can only see the iron and the muscle.  I cannot wait to present this gallery.  I am a kaleidoscope, and with each turn of the dial, each glance through the hole, you get to see a different side.  This is a part of me that you haven't seen before, and I'm hoping this off season to present so much more, to open your eyes to my world, to my workouts, to my dreams.

Stay tuned.  I don't even know what the next page has in store for me.  How scary!  And yet how exhilarating!

Jodi

"Is this Jodi better than the last Jodi that stepped on stage?"

I asked this question in an earlier entry, just days before the Junior Nationals.  And I think I've taken a long enough break and allowed enough time to pass between the show and now, so I should be able to write about this without becoming too hurt, too tearful, or too angry.

My ultimate answer is yes.  After all, I pulled up photos from the Jr. USA's and the Emerald Cup and compared them side by side with the photos from the Junior Nationals, and as an overall package, my answer is yes.  But is it the Jodi that I want to consistently bring to the stage?  No.  I haven't quite decided exactly how I want my physique to look, and this dilemma will be lurking in the murky corners of my mind for quite some time.  I tried to do instinctual training, but because I don't completely have a sense of direction for the shows next year, I desperately need some guidance for the workouts in the gym, or I will drown in confusion and will lose motivation.

I'm a complete paradox.  I hate being confined; I hate remaining within boundaries when it comes to thoughts and ideals, but I still need to pack my future into nice, neat, little boxes so that I can see the world clearly.  I can't even explain it to myself.  I should be able to walk into the gym, understand what my body needs, and then nourish it with the right exercises.  But it's not that simple.  Without a plan in sight, I sit and stare at the weights and ask myself, "What next?"

See, I need to visualize myself doing the exercise, struggling through it, lifting the weight.  I need to be able to contract the muscle and feel the tingles right to the very core of my being.  I need this before I ever step foot into the gym.  That is the backbone of my training.  That is what helps me to reach total euphoria in the middle of a workout.  I think it's much like writing.  If I don't even have an image in my mind, then I have a staring match with the computer screen, and I tend to lose, for I may write some sentences, but they invariably end up deleted because I couldn't feel the emotion in the words.  In fact, my poems are usually written in just 10, 20, at the most 30 minutes.  But I thoughts, scents, and sights have lingered in my head for weeks, much like my mother's White Shoulders perfume would fasten itself to the air particles long after she had left a room.

Today's workout was no different, for I need a definitive direction where my shoulders are concerned.  My whole goal for shoulders is to add thickness, to make them round, to help balance out these quads.  I've finally learned that my quads are incapable of downsizing.  And you know what?  I don't want them smaller.  I cannot even begin to explain the utmost power I feel when I do squats.  Wow!  Little me under 175 pounds of iron.  I think about this, and I wonder what else I'm capable of.  I am totally aware that I cannot go overboard unless I truly decide to switch to bodybuilding, and even then, my upper body will always play catch up.  But this is me.  Take it or leave it.  I have thick legs.  I have extremely full glutes.  I spent years building that portion of my body.  For judges to tell me to make my legs smaller is basically telling me to throw away years upon years of sheer determination.  You're telling me to erase the 250-pound squat.  You're telling me to take the 600+ pound leg presses and throw them on the ground and stomp on them until they meet with oblivion.  I cannot do that.  I can't!  I won't.

Again.  This is me.  Take it or leave it, I just don't care anymore.  It's my body.  I'll present it on the stage the way I want to.  A year ago, I was told to make my legs smaller.  There was no mention of my upper body except to not lose size in it.  I achieved that.  Now, this year I'm told my legs are fine but my upper body is too small.  For whose standards?  Who makes the decisions?

I guess this connects with social ideas and mores.  How does a society determine what looks good, what will be accepted, what is right, what is wrong?  Is it the media that produces this decision?  Is it our parents, our community leaders, our churches, synagogues, and other religious factions?  Is it the people themselves...away from the groups...just the individuals?  I guess I ask this because I'm watching as figure pops its head out of the womb and takes its first breath.  Really, it's a toddler now in the industry.  It's very impressionable at this age and this state.  But who really controls it?  Is it the girls who make individual decisions and step on stage and the majority rules?  Or is it the judges who just happen to pick a certain look at a certain time, which then makes the girls act in a certain manner?  This is the whole chicken and the egg question.  What determines the future of the bodybuilding industry:  the fans, the judges, the media, the pocketbooks, or the competitors?  Who do you think should determine it?

I just don't want to see figure become the angry, rebellious teen.  I'm not sure if that makes any sense, if any of this post makes sense.

What does make sense to me is that I'm training the way I want to train.  I walked out of the gym today with aching shoulders.  The very fibers of my being burned, and that excited me.  Five exercises and 15 sets later, I could not pick up my arms.  And right here, right now, sitting at the computer in a pink tank top, I can spread my lats and tense my shoulders and actually connect my mind to the rear delts...to the side delts...even to the front delts.  It's no longer me and my shoulders.  It's me and the three heads of my delts.  I've waited a long time to create that connection.  Maybe now the growth can begun.

Jodi

I did squats with 175 pounds for a set of 10 today.  Just wanted to pop my head in and state that.  If you want to know more, then come by the chat tomorrow!  It's from 1 p.m. to 2 p.m. and 8 p.m. to 9 p.m., Central Standard Time, and details are on the homepage of the site.  Hope to see you there!!
 
Jodi :)

I can't believe I wrote an entire journal entry and left out the very thing that made me open up the journal in the first place.  I do this all the time, especially with grocery shopping.  I go to the store to get eggs and gallons of bottled water.  What do I leave with?  Lip gloss, steak, chicken, avocado, broccoli, the latest issue of Oxygen, another Pooh key chain, lots of stuff I don't absolutely need and definitely not the eggs and water that I went to the store to get in the first place.  Look up scatterbrained in the dictionary, and you'll find my picture.  My mother would always tell me that if my head wasn't screwed on, I'd forget that too.  She's one to talk!  Lol!
 
Anyway, before I forget to mention this newest development, let me move back to the topic at hand.  I have to take a break today.  My car isn't working.  Someone must have been watching over me on Saturday because of two things:  (1) an Infiniti coupe nearly ran me off the road when he was weaving in and out of lanes and between cars even though they were less than car distance apart, and (2) the pulley that keeps the power steering belt taut snapped off, and my steering wheel won't budge and my battery light is on.  Now, the first item really irked me!  Actually, it downright scared me to death.  Thank goodness I hadn't just drunk a gallon of water...lol!  The guy was absolutely nuts.  He was in the lane next to me, behind a car whose back bumper was almost dead even with my front bumper.  As soon as that car moved ahead by a slight bit, the Infiniti straddled the white lines and then whipped next to my car and in front of me and sped off to repeat the action again to an SUV.  I heard lots of honking and the squealing of tires, and saw brake lights everywhere.  I had my hand on the horn, but it's one of those horns that you don't know exactly where to push and you have apply an immense amount of pressure so by the time you do honk, you look like an idiot because the attempt is futile at that point.  It's like when you think of just the right sarcastic comeback to make when someone offends you, but you don't think of it until five minutes later once the person has left the room.  That's what honking my car's horn is like.  Frustrating!!  Anyway, a friend of mine said that I should have given him the finger.  My response?  "What good would that have done?  He was long gone.  I would have actually been giving myself the finger then because only I could have seen the gesture."  Needless to say, my limbs were tingling, my heart racing, and my vision blurry and seeing red.  All I could think was what right did this guy have getting onto the road and endangering my life!  Dallas drivers need to go back to driving school.  Of course, my driving is perfect.  End of story!
 
Now, the other part of the car fiasco occurred right when I pulled into my parking space.  If that's not good timing, I don't know what is.  I was turning the wheel slightly, getting my car into perfect position in the carport when I suddenly heard a popping sound.  I thought I hit one of the poles (they put those there just to irritate people and make parking more difficult than it should be...have you noticed that about carport spaces?).  But I wasn't close enough to the poles to have scraped them (I would know...I've done it before; but I'm a perfect driver...really!).  Suddenly, my steering wheel locked up, my car starting making this low pitched humming sound, and the batterly light appeared.  Not the most auspicious signs, if you ask me.  I could drive the car forward and backward but could not turn the wheel.  Now, that's fine, except there isn't a single straight road in Texas, and if there was, I don't want to go to Oklahoma and don't want to venture into Mexico and those would seem to be only choices...north or south.  If you really want to know, I just wanted some ice cream, so this did not make me a happy camper.
 
Anyway, Jon and Tim had to pick me up the next day for the photo shoot, and a friend of mine is supposed to come over with a mechanic friend of his and see if they can fix it without me having to tow the car and be without it for a few days.  If not, this will be a nice, little expense.   I've been very lucky with this car up until now.  It was my grandparents' car that they gave to me when the lease on my Nissan Altima expired, and I haven't had a car payment in years.  The competitions have been my "car payment," so to speak, so I'm very thankful for this gesture.  But this may not be a good sign.  Things should not fall off of my car while I'm driving, especially things that have to do with steering or with the engine.  It's just my humble opinion, but I'm sure you would agree.  The really scary part of all of this?  I had spent 25 minutes driving from Tim's studio to my apartment before the pulley snapped off.  What if I was on the bridge...or what if it happened right when that Infiniti decided to swerve within inches (I'm not exaggerating...I know I have a tendency to do so, but that car was so close to mine, I could have rolled the window down, reached my hand out, and nearly touched the car)?  That's why I say that someone must have been looking out for me on Saturday.
 
I still want that ice cream, by the way.  Well, WalMart is within walking distance.  Do I dare brave the Texas heat and actually walk to the store?  Heaven forbid!  An American walking somewhere instead of driving.  I don't know if I can handle it!  Lol!!
 
And now I've finished my journal entry for today.
 
Jodi 

My Chinese zodiac sign is the rat.  And I believe it.  I love cheese.  I've been munching on a sharp cheddar cheese yesterday and today and cannot seem to get enough of it.  I'll have to put it down soon and get back in the gym tomorrow because I have more shoots in New York in less than three weeks, and I'd like to look like something other than a little blimp (that seems like an oxymoron, doesn't it?).
 
Jon Howard is trying to convince that doing the FVF-Vancouver show would be good for me.  I just don't know about this.  I chose to avoid competing in New York in order to get a headstart on the off season and to eliminate any unnecessary stress that accompanies the prospect of competing.  There is a strength portion with an agility course, and as long as a cargo net isn't involved (another common aspect between the rat and myself:  an intense fear of heights), then there's a slight (notice the word "slight") chance that I might trek up to Canada and become one with the curl bar.  Again, notice the word "slight."
 
Quite frankly, I'm exhausted.  I had some difficulties in remaining on the diet for the shoot this weekend and pretty much failed that attempt by the middle of Friday.  I had to rush to a nail appointment and then rush to the studio to get to Jon, Tim, and Steve, and was there for 12 hours on Friday, six hours on Saturday, and another twelve hours on Sunday.  I spoke about this in the update section of the message board, but we got ten sets out of the three-day shoot.  I don't think I've ever done ten sets in three days!  And I broke out of my shell.  I ventured into unchartered territory (well, unchartered for me).  Jon and I tried a bunch of new ideas and they all worked tremendously!  I want so badly to give hints, but I also want just as a badly to leave the galleries as surprises.  The last set Jon and I did was partly my idea, and the lighting and shadows are magnificent.   Tim and Jon really had to figure everything out while I remained sprawled out on the garage floor (where most of the photos were taken), with only a thin layer of crepe material between me and the concrete.  My ribs were screaming, my arms had gone numb, and my shoulders ached, but watching Tim and Jon try to figure out exactly where each of the three points of light should be in order to create the right glow on my physique was truly fascinating.  You would think that in order to take a good photo, you just need a pretty model and a great camera and finger that can press the button.  Wrong!!!  Backdrop, lighting, positioning of the body, make up, clothes, the ease with which the model moves, and a photographer who can see the image before it's actually taken are all factors.  I really admire the guys I work with!  I guess it's a lot like writing; it takes a special talent to create a beautiful visual with words or images.
 
I'm taking today off from everything.  I'm so worn out...lack of sleep and lack of a proper diet on top of the long hours can really zap you of your energy.  But I'll be working on getting new galleries to JT for an update this week.  And in August, I'm going to start members' only chats, twice a month!  Let me know if you have ideas for this (days, times, points in the month, etc.).
 
I think I'm going to take my cheese and plop myself right in front of the television.  I finally rented the third part of The Lord of the Rings and I'm dying to watch it.
 
Enjoy your Monday!
 
Jodi

I cannot wait until my head hits that soft pillow and my body curls up inside of those cool sheets. It will happen, once I eat my egg whites (I'll sprinkle a little cheddar cheese on them; I deserve it!) and wash my face one more time.

I arrived at the "studio" (put into quotation marks because it's Tim Gravens' apartment that doubles as a studio) at about 1:30 this afternoon. It is now 2:30 in the morning. Can we say "long day"?! But it was so worth it, I cannot even begin to describe how anxious I am to see these photos on the board and in the galleries. Jon should put up a few teasers within the next couple of days. I'll provide only a few hints: fishnet thigh high stockings, black boots that make me about the height of a normal person, and enough make up and hair spray to make even Tammy Faye Baker cringe (okay, no one could ever put on that much make up, so that might be a slight exaggeration).

Jon and I did two major sets, and I'm headed back up there to work with him tomorrow morning at 10 a.m. We'll do a solo shoot (hint: chocolate), and then the mystery competitor is coming by and shooting with us. Now...when you see these photos, please remember that she is three weeks out from a show, and I had IHOP tonight (banana macademia nut pancakes, hash browns, and four egg whites...yum!), so I'm definitely in the joys of off season and I might look a bit pudgy next to her. Just go easy on me with this one!

Anyway, I'm so excited! Jon did some awesome work and really captured great lighting. I feel comfortable around him, so that creates an ease that shows through in the photos. Steve Hendrix was there as well, and I'll be working with him again as the summer continues. By the way, I love how the new haircut looks in the pictures! Had to say that quickly. But more importantly, new video footage will be available as a result of this shoot (there are definitely enough surprises to last until Christmas!).

Okay, I'm exhausted. My eyes are bloodshot, my legs holding water from being up and about for so many hours, and my energy has dwindled to almost nothing. Eat and sleep. Sounds like heaven to me! :)

Jodi

The mirror. A necessary evil in the bodybuilding world. A competitor must look in the mirror to diagnose progress and to determine correct form. Yet, if the reflection is not up to the standards within the competitor's mind, isn't the act of looking at oneself counterproductive?

That's hard to say. Take today, for example. I did a quick shoulder workout in the gym tonight, and found myself lost in moments where all I could see was the road between what I have and what I want. And then there was the finale to the workout. The posedown in the mirror. I struck a side chest post, and suddenly the vision of what could be sat in that reflection. Could it be my mind is playing tricks on me? Is what I see in the mirror in front of me accurate, or is it something I should distrust?

Either way, I liked what I saw in the last pose. My delts, engorged with blood from the reverse grip Smith machine press, the burn out sets of seated and then standing side laterals, and the upright rows, were nice and full. The striations were evident. The tiny veins snaked across the front delts. Those were the delts I wanted to bring to the stage in Chicago. Who knows if it would have made a difference.

I have two days of shooting with Jon Howard, and I want so badly to let you in on the secret of who is joining us on Saturday. But I can't. Well, actually, I won't. But you'll know soon enough. I am excited about the shoot. Jon and I have some new ideas, and I went shopping early this week to get a new pair of boots and some fishnet thigh highs. And you finally get to see my new hairstyle. Well, I guess if you played the video clips, then you saw it, but it wasn't really styled, and I was sweating, and I didn't have hardly any make up on, and I wasn't being a girly girl, so you couldn't get the whole effect.

Anyway, on Saturday night, www.usaglamourgirls.com photographers are throwing a huge party for the models, and I'll finally be able to munch on what I want! I've been struggling the last couple of days. I did a carb depletion and then piled in some carbs today. Well, "piled" is an exaggeration. I had three meals with carbs and allowed myself two protein shakes. I don't want to go overboard and watch my abs disappear. They are the first to show signs of water retention, unfortunately. Darn genetics! But all in all, I am pleased with my physique for the shoots this weekend. I didn't kill myself trying to get ready, but I didn't stray too far from the original plan either. I was 109 pounds this morning, and my goal had been 108 pounds, but I hadn't factored in the fact that I would be lifting weights with my quads again, and I know I've tightened up my glutes and put a bit more muscle on in that region. And I'm actually enjoying this fuller look on me. I'm just quite hungry, and to me that signals that my body is ready for a brief break. After 31 years, I'm finally realizing that I might need to listen to my body rather than ignore it, and this whole week has reconfirmed that my decision to refrain from stepping on stage in New York is completely the right decision.

I actually had a slight epiphany today in the gym. Slight! Lol! While other girls are dieting down for this show, spending the next three weeks depleting their bodies, I'm taking care of myself, thinking ahead, preparing for next year...getting a jump start. Wow! I amaze myself sometimes with the thoughts that manage to sneak by fears and worries! Lol! But seriously. Only two girls in my class will get pro cards. That leaves a whole slew of others who have to go back to the drawing table and figure out (ha!) what to do. I've already begun that step.

And no matter what I decide for next year, it will be the decision that makes me happy. I can promise myself that!

And on that note, have a good night!

Jodi

It's official. The cardio equipment has enacted its revenge upon me. All of the times I ever cursed it, sweated on it, abused it, talked about it behind its back have now come back to haunt me. They took me hostage during my cardio session today. Seriously. I found myself locked in the fitness center after my 45-minute bout of exercising. I'm almost terrified to go back for fear of what else the room might do to me. It's every competitor's worst nightmare...not being able to get to her food right away! You should have seen me, sweaty fist banging heavily on the glass pane of the door to the leasing office, constant checking of the outside door to make sure it is indeed locked and not just a trick of the mind (it's amazing what cardio on an empty stomach will do to brain cells; besides, it would be a total embarrassment to have the plump leasing manager come to the door and open it with ease while a little muscle girl complains that she can't get it open), and my face scrunched up in complete frustration, anger, and poutiness. I was wet. I was hungry. I smelled. I wanted out!

That was my eventful day. Well, I still have a back workout, so I shouldn't speak too soon. Lord knows what else will occur! Can anyone top that? Huh? Huh? Lol!!

Jodi

I spoke with a couple of people in the gym yesterday, and a suggestion was made to try St. John's Wort. I bought it and have starting taking it today along with L-Theanine, which is supposed to help with relieving stress and anxiety. I always wonder if these supplements actually do anything or just have a placebo effect. Like when you take Advil or Tylenol, and the pain begins to disappear in five minutes. Is it the actual medication itself or the knowledge that you did something to alleviate the pain and that relaxes you and takes away the pain? Does it matter? Lol! I'm going to do some more research on St. John's Wort, but I was assured that there are no side effects and it can be taken with water and/or food. I usually hate taking something to fix a pain, but if it helps then that's great. And using shopping for shoes or clothes is too expensive of a anti-depressant (though it's a fun one!).

I did have an excellent leg workout yesterday. Call it punishment, label me a masochist, but by the end of it, I felt ready to puke, and I knew it was awesome! In fact, my hamstrings are screaming today...all the way from my glutes down to the inside of my knees! I haven't had that feeling in quite some time. This is pure heaven! I started with hamstrings in the workout. I do that because I want those to grow and I want to keep my quads in check when it comes to growth. This is going to be a very interesting off season because I want my quads hard and defined for next competition season, but I can't let the growth get out of hand (which can happen easily...I would pull out old powerlifting photos and show you what my quads used to look like, but I'm making some really funny faces with 225 pounds on my back in the middle of a squat...a bit embarrassing!).

So, seated leg curls began the workout yesterday. I'm waiting for the day when they create a gym especially for munchkins. The seated leg curl machine is met for someone who can touch the clouds with their nose, not for small people. I have to maneuver myself into the seat, get my legs up onto the pad, and then lock my quads in place (which hurts every time…I think the pressure of the pad squishing my quad muscles is more excruciating than the exercise itself; it’s like that on the seated calf machine as well). Then I have to scoot my butt around until I’m in the right position, hold onto the handles for dear life, pray that I don’t slip and slide off the seat, and hope that I don’t pull a muscle while trying to pretend I belong on this machine. I only did 100 pounds for sets of 12 because of the short factor (that sounds like it should be a show…instead of fear factor, short factor, which would examine all the things that short people are discriminated against, like the smallest sizes being put on the top shelf when it’s obvious only the shorties are going to wear a size one! Why can’t I stay on topic???).

Okay, so that exercise finally ended, and I managed to maneuver myself out of the apparatus without tripping or falling (hey, that’s a major feat for me; I somehow managed to bang my head on a bar the other day, but I try to shrug it off and act like it never happened even though a huge welt began growing as though a mosquito had decided to attack my forehead…and of course I have a shoot this weekend. Great timing! Way to go, Jodi! You couldn’t be a klutz after the shoot; you had to walk into something the week of the shoot!).

I then hobbled over to the lying leg curl machine, moved the pad to the hole labeled “1”, and proceeded to lift 90 pounds for 15 reps. I supersetted that with straight leg deadlifts with 40-pound dumbbells and focused on my glutes. It’s a tough job…focusing on my glutes, but someone’s gotta do it! Lol!

With hamstrings officially torn to pieces, I knew it was quad time. Some ridiculous plan had entered my head this week, and I knew I was going to regret being creative the moment I began the tri-set. You’ll see what I mean. Leg extensions followed by Smith machine lunges followed by narrow stance dumbbell squats, all with reps in the range of 15 to 25. Try it. Then try walking. Actually, don’t try walking. Just crawl to the water fountain. I don’t want to be held liable for your injuries because your legs gave way!

I did leg extensions a bit heavier than I have almost the entire year. I threw caution to the wind and gave my quads a nice wake up call before moving to the Smith machine. Nicole Berg had told me to try lunges with my back foot on a small box or platform. Thanks, Nicole. More pain. You’re a great friend. Lol!! It worked, though. I kept my lunging leg just slightly inside of the hip joint, turned the toe in a bit, and focused on the quad sweep and my lower glutes. It did the trick with just 15 reps per leg. My trembling legs managed to carry me to the 25-pound dumbbells, which I held in each hand while I did very narrow stance squats. In fact, toes were slightly in and a mere three inches apart from each other. I went down as low as I could without involving my lower back and repeated this exercise for 20 reps. I then swallowed a few times and planted my butt on the nearest seat (which happened to be the edge of the leg press machine…not exactly comfortable, but my butt has enough cushioning to make up for it…lol!).

Three sets of that tri-set, and the thought of a trash can in my face and a cool shower sounded lovely. I’ve never vomited after a leg workout, but the nausea does always appear when it’s been a tough one. Instead, I provided myself with a dose of cardio and then returned home to eat…finally!

And so, today, watching me walk is quite the hilarious scene. I’m like an old woman trying to get out of my car. I have to slide both legs sideways in slower motion than the Matrix special effects, hold onto the door handle for dear life, stand up but not all the way, for the stretching hurt desperately, and then hope for the best once I let go of the door after slamming it shut. Oh yeah, and I have to walk to my destination, and if there are stairs, well, don’t walk behind me because it’ll be tomorrow before you’ll get to the top. Stop laughing!

I’m going to now make my way to the kitchen. It’s time for me to eat, though by the time I get there, the sun will have risen again. Wish me luck…I am quite hungry!

Jodi

Depression is the clumps of hair that clog my mind, keeping my thoughts from flowing freely, leaving only gunk in the wake of its arrival.

I don’t share everything in my journal. Not all of my pain, not all of my happiness appears here. I think of my site as a window, with my life being the house. And sometimes the curtains are wide open, the windows void of smudges, and the lights on even at night. But other times, the opaque curtains are drawn tightly, and no matter how much you squint and try to peer inside, nothing can be seen. These are the days that the journal is quiet.

The clumps this week built up and built up until nothing could get through, and it all culminated in a very difficult day yesterday. I hate the feeling. I can sit on the floor or on the corner of my bed and watch the minutes tick by; I almost feel like a person trapped in a car at a railroad, waiting for the caboose to appear to signal the end of the train. When the depression hits this hard, you just want the evening to come about so you can sleep and try, try again the next morning.

There are lots of things that trigger it, and I can’t decide if I’m lucky in the fact that I’m aware of when the drain is stopped up or if I’m unlucky because as they say, “ignorance is bliss.” I still went to the gym yesterday, but I fought back tears throughout the entire workout. I still did a bit of cardio, but my limbs felt like a rag doll’s—limp, lifeless. I suppose it all helped, for I awakened this morning feeling better and was able to write a piece for the news section that I’ve been harboring in my mind for three weeks now. But I’m still recovering, and I still wish the sun would take a break. The sky is just a bit too bright for me this weekend.

One of my friends suggested that maybe I’m having post contest depression, comparing it to post partum depression. I think that’s a small bit of it. She said that the contests are like your baby. You nourish them, carry them around in your mind, can never let go of the fact that they are looming in the future, always have a responsibility to them, and then suddenly they aren’t a part of you anymore, and there’s a bit of confusion as to how to dedicate your energy and time. She also made another interesting point: I haven’t decided on exactly what to do in the industry yet. I’m sitting on a fence and won’t be making a decision of whether to compete in bodybuilding or figure until early next year, and I’m someone who likes to pack the future into nice and neat boxes, labels on the outside for easy access in my mind (too bad I don’t do this with my actual files and thoughts, but my gifted and talented teachers in school always said that a cluttered mind is a sign of a creative one…lol!). I’ve always ended each competition season with a set plan of what I’ll be doing for the next competition season, so it’s as if I’m dangling in space, and I see the stars, but I’m not sure of which one I will travel to and don’t know of exactly how I will get to it.

And technically, I’m not in off season yet. I’ve made commitments to do photo shoots, so I have to handle my nutrition accordingly. But the problem lies in the fact that my mind is ready for off season. And quite frankly, so is my body. But my will power and desire to present myself well for photographers and for you guys keeps me from giving in to cravings. And the cravings are baaaad! Really bad!

I had a small cheat meal on Friday and had no guilty feelings. One huge burrito stuffed with steak, cheese, rice, guacamole, and sour cream really hit the spot. And a small scoop of peanut butter ice cream with yummy Butterfinger crumbles mixed in took care of my sweet tooth. I definitely was not as stuffed as the burrito, but I was content. There’s often a feeling of needing to eat everything in the world in order to compensate for the months upon months of not getting any choices, but that’s not healthy, and I’ve worked hard to alter that feeling. I’ve changed portion sizes with cheat meals and have begun to understand that the ice cream will still be in the stores two weeks from now, so no, I do not need to go home with every single Ben and Jerry’s flavor tonight. But I digress. I thought the cheat meal would take care of the cravings, and it was a planned one, for I wanted to see how upping my carbs and fat after a carb depletion would work with my body and then repeat the process for Jon’s shoot.

But for some reason, my mind is being greedy, and one burrito and one scrumptious serving of ice cream did not satiate it, and it’s screaming and begging for more. I don’t even know what it wants. I walked into Super Walmart (I’m not ashamed…I love that store!) to purchase some body wash (I had maybe two squirts left) and a few other items, and I managed to not give in to the cravings and buy any food. I wouldn’t have even known what to buy. Chocolate? No. Graham crackers? No. Ice cream? No. Bananas? No. Cheese? No. Chips? Hmmmm. Okay, no. Nothing really sounded good. I think it was just the act of actually choosing an item, purchasing it, ripping open the bag or container, and taking bite after bite. That freedom to do those very actions is snatched away from you as soon as you decide to do a competition. Everything is so uniformed, and you begin to equate anything that travels within the vicinity of the mouth as a calorie, and you begin to examine whether it will help or hinder your ability to do well for the set date. Sometimes, you just want to shut your mind off and eat with vigor. And that switch is stuck to on in my mind, and that is what I believe sometimes triggers the depression. I sometimes detest the fact that I am so aware of how everything reacts with the body and every decision is evaluated and re-evaluated so that soon everything enters the scrutiny of the microscope and some things in life just aren’t fun.

See, off season is meant to provide the mind and body with a much needed break. But I’m hovering outside of competition prep and outside of off season, and I’m dying for a bit of freedom but have not provided myself with the go ahead to run, jump, and play. Does that make sense?

I really should open the window a little wider as I prepare for shows. I know I’ll be doing that for the off season. I want you to be able to witness the changes within the mind and body. As competitors, we choose to put on weight in order to reach a future goal. That, in and of itself, is difficult. I don’t fluctuate more than two dress sizes (I don’t think I could handle it if I were to), but it still weighs heavy on the mind when you look in the mirror and see a different body than the one that appeared on stage and when the people around you make comments without putting true thought behind them (wow…you’ve gained some weight; you’re in off season aren’t you; are you not doing a show anytime soon; you’re softer than I remembered; I like the fuller look on you; etc.). And here the mind has to create boxes once again: I realize why I’m doing this, and I’m okay with that decision, and the feelings I have currently about my stomach or butt or thighs are not as important as the goals I have set for the future.

Go ahead and say it…it’s just a body. But then look in the mirror and think about your daily activities, your dreams, desires, goals. Examine what makes you…you. And then think about whether your body is “just a body.” They say to not judge a book by its cover, but part of the wonderful act of purchasing a book and reading it is enjoying the feel of the cover and the pages, the smell of it, the sounds it makes when you open it for the first time, the sight of the words, how the paragraphs are broken up, how the chapters are arranged, and don’t we always love to see what the author looks like? So while my body does not completely capture my essence, it does shed some light on my personality, my mind, my emotions. It’s not just a body to me. It is me. I just have to learn to love it all 365 days of the year…not just the week before a show. And that, my friends, is what this current off season will be about. Hold on tight...the adventure has officially begun.

Jodi

I think I need disability aid. My shoulders hurt so much that I can barely lift my arms to take my sports bra off, and my legs have the consistency of jelly right now. And to think...I did this to myself. I chose the exercises. I chose the reps. I chose the sets. I am the culprit. And the victim. Ahhh...the joys of weight training! :)

I don't have much time to write about the workouts, so I'll do that tomorrow.

I did make my flight arrangements for New York. I'm arriving August 5th in the afternoon and leaving August 8th in the late evening. Does anyone have suggestions of where I should have lunch on Sunday? Shoots will be done and over with, so the gluttony will begin again! Lol! Well, just for a day or two. I'm not taking a week off again. Only when I do a show do I treat the world like it's my buffet. When I haven't done a show--only shoots--I don't feel like I earned that time off. It's weird how the mind works.

Jon Howard and I have a new idea for our shoot. But I'm not telling. Ha!!

I mailed the video clips disk to JT today, so there will definitely be shoulder workouts for you to watch in the very near future. I'm so excited about this because I've been promising it for an eternity, and I tend to procrastinate so badly, but this time I've actually gotten on the ball and gotten the task at hand done. I'm going to explain what I'm doing in each clip, the form I'm using, the muscles I'm working, and the ultimate reason for each exercise. Yes, you have to endure my love for teaching and take a step into my classroom. Now behave...or detention will be a necessary measure. Lol! J/K

On that note, I'm headed into the shower.

Jodi :)

I cut my hair today. Well, I didn't cut it. That would only lead to disaster. My hairdresser took on that responsibility, and originally, I thought it turned out in disaster. I kept from crying on the whole drive home, but I sped down the highway, cursed at drivers who pulled out in front of me only to go six miles an hour while my car flew at a good 80 miles an hour (okay, I'm exaggerating...about the six miles an hour), and rushed to get in front of the mirror, which I shouldn't have done because then the waterworks began. It took a new washing and re-styling of the chopped locks to discover that I actually like what my hairdresser did. Being a woman is not fun! Lol!

Basically, I now have bangs that hit about the cheekbone level, and the layers are more prominent so my hair frames my face and is still pretty much the length in the back that you saw in the competition photos this year. I could use the flat iron at times when styling it, which I did for the shows, or I could rely on fingers, a round brush, and the blow dryer, which I did for tonight's session in the gym. See, I wanted my hair to look right for y'all since I promised video clips of one of my workouts. I'll have to check the clips out, but there are several of me doing lateral raises, upright rows, and rear pec deck drop sets. And a few bicep shots snuck their way into the mix. I don't know how that happened; my biceps have a mind of their own! :)

I'm hoping to upload those clips and save them on disk and mail them to JT tomorrow so they can make it into the next update. Just don't get upset if the quality isn't up to par. The gym lighting probably isn't the best at 9 p.m., which is when I finally made it in to do shoulders.

I also got my tootsies painted. Here's a funny story...well, funny to me. When I got my toes for the Junior Nationals, I told the girl, who didn't speak a lick of English, that I needed the pedicure to last for a week since I was doing shoots. Unbeknownst to me, she used a top coat that was acetone resistant. I should have been on candid camera when I tried to get that polish off last week. I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed, and the polish would not budge, would not smear, would not disappear. I soaked another cotton ball with remover and still...nothing. I nearly freaked! I thought I would have to live an eternity with an old french pedicure on my toes! A travesty, I tell you!!! Anyway, enough of the melodrama. When I went in tonight after getting my hair done (the hairdresser and nail salon are across the street from each other), the girl informed me that she had used an acetone resistant top coat. It all clicked in my mind.

So, there I was, magazines in my lap and feet being prettied up (Is that a term? It is now.), and the pedicurist starts to get the exfoliating scrub and loofah pad, and I stop her, "No, I don't want the scrub or massage." Her jaw nearly dropped. I mean, what woman wouldn't want her feet rubbed and scrubbed? Well, I'm not every woman. Actually, my feet are soooo ticklish that it's pure torture to deal with that part of the pedicure. She announces to the rest of the salon that I don't want the exfoliating scrub or the massage, as though I'm refusing a million dollar check, and the whole salon nearly gasps and questions why. They then proceed to tell me that if I just allow her to do it this time and continue allowing her, then the ticklish sensation will disappear eventually. I just want the woman to slap some polish on my toes and send me on my merry way. She then spends the rest of the time telling me that I'm missing the best part and tsk tsking her way through the pedicure. I finally tell her, after the umpteenth time of hearing how I'm missing out on "the best part" that it may be the best part to her, but it's the worst part to me and to just polish my toes because I need to get home.

So, this is what I don't understand about people. Just because one person enjoys something doesn't mean the whole world is going to enjoy it just as much. It's like when my grandmother wanted to make me see a romance movie. She told me the title, and I said I wasn't interested, and she spent the next 10 minutes telling me I should be interested and I was missing out on the best movie ever. It's not the best movie ever if I don't want to see it, and the world is not going to end and the sky will not fall if I don't have a massage or don't see a movie. Jeeeeez!

Okay, that's out of my system. Eventually, the caffeine will be gone too...lol! I'm about to eat some lean ground beef and spinach and hang up clothes and go to bed.

I'll tell you about the shoulder workout tomorrow. It was a grand one! I'm already sore, if that tells you anything!

G'night!

Jodi :)

Beer battered shrimp and fried calamari filled the television screen while I huffed and puffed through my first cardio session today. Why had I decided to watch the Food Channel? This is the true meaning of torture. Tantalizing images of sizzling food appeared right before my eyes, and all I could do was run...and run...and run...and run. For forty five minutes, this went on. Well, technically, it was 60 minutes, since I spent 15 extra minutes walking on the treadmill. The only thing missing from this scene was the scent of the food.

The apartment complex has changed cable companies, choosing to switch to Comcast, and now the movie channels are no longer available in the fitness center. So I was forced to watch the Food Channel. They made me do it! Okay, I stood on my tiptoes, stretched up high to reach the channel changer on the television (why, oh why do normal sized people continue to put things just out of my reach? Don't they know short people use things too?), and I made the decision to watch people cook food, smell food, eat food.

Speaking of which, I'm about to go off onto two tangents, so be prepared. I thought of a new recipe that I'll add to the site next week. It's a little twist on the lettuce wraps you might have had at P.F. Chang's or The Cheesecake Factory (if you haven't ventured into one of these restaurants, ohhhh you're missing something!). That's all I'll say for now. The other tangent is that I watched the hot dog eating contest last night on ESPN. I'm not quite sure which bothered me more: the fact that people stuffing anywhere from 20 to 50 hot dogs into their intestines gets more coverage than the bodybuilding industry or the sight of the food itself. And then I had another thought while watching the program. If people who are homeless or starving could see this, what would they think? I mean, here's enough food to feed 200 people or more, and about 20 people are gulping down hot dog after hot dog, not even savoring the taste, and not for any other purpose than pure gluttony and shock value. Odd...American television. Very odd. And these contests aren't just for hot dogs. There are doughnut duals, ice cream battles, jalapeno wars; even hard boiled eggs make it into the mix (ewww! Even I'm wrinkling my nose at that one!).

All in all, I actually felt better about my cheat day on Sunday. The several pieces of English chocolate that I continued to reach for before I even left for the movies and the ice cream, cheeseburger, and fries that eventually upset my stomach were small fries (excuse the poor pun) compared to this hot dog eating contest!

Part of me wishes I didn't cheat on Sunday. My back workout suffered due to me not feeling well. I got through it, but I had to drop the weight a bit on each exercise and just up the reps instead. I was disappointed, and at one point after a lat pulldown set, I started to get angry and let the cable fly up. Yep, a slight temper tantrum in the gym. I just hate not being able to throw around the weight that I originally intended to use, and it throws a wrench into my ability to remain in the zone of concentration. I fought through it, though, and did a complete back workout that has left me quite sore today, and I managed to accomplish two cardio sessions as well.

I am cutting carbs this week and then carb loading on Friday and Saturday before dropping carbs once again and then repeating the carb loading process for Jon's shoot. I want to drop about three pounds between now and next Friday, and it shouldn't be difficult to do, as long as my little fingers don't start reaching for the chocolate again. I'm trying a few new things out:

1) When I lower the carbs, I'm increasing the protein by just a bit.
2) When the carbs are really low, but I'm needing to keep my energy high for the workouts, I'm not just increasing the protein but also adding in a bit more fat, i.e., avocado and peanut butter or flaxseed oil.
3) When I increase the carbs and do a proper carb load, then I drop the fat almost altogether, bring the protein back to normal or even a little less than I'm used to, and drop the cardio down to one session instead of two so that I don't use up all the carbs.

The point of carb depletion and carb loading is to allow the muscles to become flat and to force the body to use what is currently stored in it rather than the food that is being taken in. Then, the carb loading allows the muscles to fill back up and the cuts begin to get a little deeper when the water retention is kept at a minimum. I'm keeping my sodium levels up, will increase them right before carb loading, and then drop them to less than I'm used to within 24 hours before the shoot. I'm not going to play with water levels too much because I don't want to rebound badly before going to New York.

Anyway, I'm seeing a bit of quad separation. My legs, believe it or not, are still reminding me that I had a tough leg workout last week, but the running went well, and I can't wait until tomorrow's leg workout! I've packed it full of really good, really tough supersets! Tonight is shoulders, and I should be able to capture a clip of this workout and mail it to JT (the clip files are waaaay too big to just e-mail...frustrating!).

I read a highly interesting passage in Dandelion Wine during my adventure on the bike last night (it's amazing...I ride and ride and ride and still get nowhere). I've decided to use it to create the next news update for the main site. Very thought provoking and very appropos for my current situation in the competitive world.

I'll be talking with Nicole Berg this evening; she and I will be examining pros and cons of me looking into bodybuilding. There are many, and I'll be weighing this option for the entire off season. My training really doesn't need to be any different for the off season because ultimately, I'm designing my body the way I want it. I plan to add a good five pounds of muscle in the next eight months, most of it in my upper body, and it'll be the cutting phase that will require a decision of which stage to stand upon and whether heels or bare feet will be required.

I'm a tiny girl. I like being small, but I like having the muscles pop out when I flex, so don't fret...the muscles will always be there, the conditioning will be better next year, and the desire to do my best will stay alive!

Jodi

Would someone please purchase a walker for me? After my bout with the squat bar the other day, I seem to have lost the proper use of my legs. I now hobble from point A to point B rather than sashay. It's not funny! You should see me trying to get across a parking lot. A turtle would have moved quicker than I was this afternoon when I needed to go to Barnes and Noble to get a gift for a friend and purchase a hairstyle magazine and a GRE study guide (I bought the Barron's one; I hope it was the right one. They have about umpteen jillion of them. Okay, slight exaggeration. Maybe just a million.).

I took the day off from the gym today. I was supposed to train arms and do cardio. It takes me five years to get down the stairs from my second-floor apartment. Do you really think I'm going to manage to get onto the treadmill and put one foot in front of the other without falling flat on my face and causing even more pain and embarrassment to my already sore body? You've got to be joking. I'm trying to figure out if there's a part of me that isn't sore. My pinky toe, maybe? My earlobe, possibly?

And I had a small cheat meal tonight. It wasn't very satisfying. I'll try again tomorrow while watching the fireworks. After all, if you can't get it right the first time, try, try again...right? Somehow, I don't think that statement was geared towards eating cheat meals, but it works for me! My body and mind just needed a bit of a break this weekend, so I've decided to listen to my instincts and take the break and then bust my butt from Monday all the way into the shoot with Jon. I still see my six pack (forget seeing the quads right now...each quad is just one huge muscle that sways and bounces with every step, reminding me of the utter pain that exists to the core of my being) and the vein along my biceps and my delts are still striated and hamstrings tight, so I know that good, hard work for the next two weeks will bring in a conditioned physique...not what you see on the stage, but something that I can wrap a bikini around and still feel comfortable. And then I'll bring myself in tighter for the New York shoots.

By the way, those caramel frappaccino's at Starbucks are scrumptious! I'm sure I misspelled frappaccino, so this will be one of the few chances you'll get at correcting me. Better grab it quickly! Lol!! :)

Have a wonderful Fourth of July if you're celebrating American independence. If you're not...well, find a way to make some fireworks in your life and light up your future. My mind is racing a million miles a minute as to how I can light up my future. That GRE book I bought today? That's just one step to a big bang! :)

Jodi

It's a long one, guys! Feel free to take coffee breaks, naps, weekends, whatever you need. Just please come back from time to time and read the whole thing! Thanks!! :)

Have you ever wanted to extend the proverbial middle finger and say, "I'm doing this my way?" I know it's not the most ladylike action in the world, and it's one that I would rarely do, but I did it in the gym today.

I thought the instinctual training would work for legs. The word wrong doesn't even cover it. I started with hamstrings, seated leg curls. I have trouble with this machine in my gym because my legs are bit too short, and I'm just a little too small, so the pad doesn't sit properly on my legs, and my quads end up smashed beneath it. On top of that, when I reach the bottom of the exercise, the most important part where I need to squeeze the hamstrings and lift up through my chest to really target the muscle fibers, I can't because the ankle pad is resting along my heels rather than my ankles. It's frustrating, but I still went through it and just kept the weight around 80 and 90 pounds rather than going overboard, and I opted to increase the reps to 15. I supersetted this exercise with jump squats, no weight.

Four sets later, I was ready to move on. I thought I'd do standing leg curls and pair those up with straight leg deadlifts. But I couldn't find the ankle strap for the cables to do these. And when I asked the gym owner, he didn't seem to interested in helping me find it. Actually, ever since he placed third in a bodybuilding show that he took eight days to diet down for, he's been a bit unbearable to be around. Something about cocky attitudes really annoys me. But I veer from the topic at hand (like that's anything new...see, I'm doing it again). I felt distracted and irritated because my workout plan had to be changed due to something out of my control. I can handle change...just not last-minute change.

I knew what was bothering me ultimately. I couldn't figure out how to work hamstrings and glutes adequately enough and not incorporate the quads. Seriously! Unless you're doing glute kicks and straight leg deadlifts, any other exercise that involves the glute muscles will involve the quads. Why? Because the hip and knee joints are invariably involved when the glutes are attacked with resistance. Guess what else is brought into the equation? Yep, you guessed it: quads. But here's my dilemma. My upper body is too small and looks even smaller because my quads are so thick with muscle. On top of that, I carry fat and water in my quads moreso than any other single area of my body. This is my genetics. I've been fighting with this for three years...ever since I decided to really go for it in figure. And for three years, I have succeeded in downsizing my quads but not attaining the cuts and separation I desire.

So what did I decide to do? I did lying leg curls to focus on hamstrings first and then moved right over to the leg extension machine and began 50 reps. Do you want to know the weight I used? Do you really want to know, because I'm not proud of it! Ten pounds. Let me say it again. Ten pounds. I hit rep 40 and began to cry. This hurt. Not my legs! This hurt my heart. This isn't what my body was meant to do. I wasn't kicking up those 50 reps for me. I was doing this for some insane judge who doesn't think my physique is good enough for a trophy when I'm compared to other girls who have different genetics, different training styles, and different muscle maturity.

I did the last ten reps after that brief pause. Then I got off of that machine and tried it again. I'm not a quitter. I did the leg curls and then hopped back onto the leg extension (well, hopped is a bit of an exaggeration; I slid into the seat...that's a better visual, isn't it?) and began this repertoire again. I did quit this time. Ten reps and I realized I was bored. I said forget it. I headed right over to the squat rack, did 20 reps with just bar, butt to the ground, just to remind my body of what a proper squat is without sending my system into shock overload, and then yanked the 45-pound plates off the weight trees and hoisted them up onto either side of the bar. And so, with 135 pounds on my back, I proceeded to do 18 reps of solid squats with excellent form. And my heart opened up. I then added ten pounds to each side and did 155 pounds for 12 reps. A slight dizziness washed over me, and I didn't want to push myself so far that I'd pass out. After all, I'm still doing low carbs (1/4 cup of oats this morning and 2.5 ounces of sweet potato do not make for good energy during squats, heavy or otherwise; did I mention that I ran for 30 minutes this morning? That's a huge no no before squats! Any powerlifter would attest to this. Wait...powerlifters don't run, unless donuts or a buffet is involved.). I did a third set with 95 pounds for 20 reps, placed the bar back onto the rack, and walked away with a smile. My glutes felt hard again, my quads filled with blood, and I felt alive.

I then did some walking lunges with light weight and moderate straight leg deadlifts before moving on to 30 minutes on the bike.

I know you're going to think I'm crazy, but I looked in the mirror and could swear that my lower abs had tightened up. I bring this up because I want you to read the e-mail I received from the head judge, Sandy Ranalli, today:

Hi Jodi,
I wish I had a crystal ball. You have wonderful lines. You just need more upper body especially chest and back. I went to your website and looked at your photos posted on 5/13. You present yourself well too. You need to tighten up your lower abd area too. If you enjoy competing do New York but then take the rest of the year off and come back to the Jr. USA in Charleston next year. If money is a problem then I would take off till next year and work on your weak areas. Again 12th out of 30 competitors with the quality that was at the Jr. nationals is really quite awesome. Please feel free to contact me with any other question. Good Luck.

I've been concerned about my lower abs ever since I began with Mike Davies. Now, I'm not going to bad mouth a trainer because every trainer I've had has added something into this mix of a physique that you see today. But it needs to be refined, and with Mike, he did some good, and he did some bad. The good is that he helped in bringing my legs down and my upper body up and more shapely. But neither were done to the extent or in the manner that I liked. Thus, I quit working with him two weeks after the Junior Nationals last year. There were some other issues as well, but those are private. Just suffice it to say that I had good reason to leave.

But a couple of things that really irritated me once I began looking at photos last year. My quads and glutes had loose skin. My lower back had loose skin. My glutes looked almost flattened out. My quads were not acquiring the separation I used to have the year before. My lower abs sucked. Plain and simple.

I continued training my quads similarly to how Mike had me training them, but again, it's impossible to target the glutes without involving the quads. And so I fought this dilemma this entire season and have suffered a few consequences as a result: still weak lower abs, which I didn't have in 2001 and 2002; loose skin in the lower back, along the erectors; loose skin and lack of separation in the quads, which I did not have a problem with in 2002; and some loose skin in the glutes, though not as big of a problem as when I was with Mike.

I also completely revamped my upper body training, and you can see that I made some significant changes. So here's my thinking: I quit doing heavy squats even in the off season when I began with Mike. At the same point, I lost the separation in my quads, lost the hardness of my glutes, and lost the tightness of my lower abs. Hmmmm...ding ding ding...the lightbulb suddenly turned on (it sometimes takes me awhile)! There must be a correlation.

Long story...well...long (sorry, guys), I brought the squats back in and by the end of my workout, my glutes were hard, my quads full, my lower abdomen tighter. My body reacts very quickly to weight training and diet, so I know that the squats were a significant factor in this, and I don't think it's my imagination...so don't call me crazy on this one. On other things, maybe. But not on this.

I have learned a lesson. Well, maybe two or three lessons. First, trust your instincts. Two, do what you love and don't sabotage yourself in order to please someone else. And three, I cannot train legs instinctually. I will be drawing up a seven to nine week plan that will focus on building the muscle fibers in my quads, increasing my quad sweep, hardening my glutes, and tightening up my lower abdomen. As soon as I have it drawn up (well, maybe a few hours after), I will post it on my journal and explain why I'm doing things this way.

Remember, I'm in off season training-wise. My diet is in season because of shoots, but photographers have always appreciated my legs, so to have them a little thicker than my upper body isn't too much of a problem. If I were stepping on stage, I would be stressed about this. But I'm stepping in front of cameras, and quite frankly, I'm stepping in front of myself and teaching myself some hard lessons.

I don't know what the future of figure holds. I do know that I control my future, though. I'm going to train my body for what I feel will look best. I still have to build my shoulders more and build my back, but once I've sculpted myself, in about January or February, I will examine my structure and decide at that point what show will be best for me to unveil the improvements. I would also like to preface that throughout all of this I will remain drug free. There's no question of that. But that's a whole other journal, and I'm sure you're blind or feeling dazed at this point, so let me end by saying that I had a good workout today. It didn't start that way, but since it ended that way, I can say that with a smile on my face.

Now, I have to head into the shower. And no more carbs for me tonight...not even that chocolate that's sitting on top of the refrigerator (in the "you can't reach this unless you grow six inches or feel like getting the stepstool, which is too much trouble when you're carb depleted and won't be worth the effort anyway, so just forget about it" spot...whew...that was a mouthful!). Willpower, willpower, willpower! :)

Jodi