“If you could only see …”

If you could only take one peek into the looking glass of life and see what transpires down the winding road of our destinies, would you? Would you dare? I wonder if it is the unknown that drives mankind, if we need our curiosities tantalized in order to maintain our desire for success and fruition.

Think about it. If you knew the end, would you ever begin?

I don’t know why this popped up in my mind today. Well, actually it was last night when I pulled into the parking space at my apartment complex and sat in the dark and listened to Tonic’s song with those very words, “If you could only see . . . .” I had just finished listening to Kasey Kasem (I didn’t realize the guy was still around; he’s like Dick Clark, isn’t he?) talk about Tonic’s guitarist and how he compared his daily guitar practice sessions to Ernest Hemingway’s insistence of writing every single day without fail. A session missed is a session lost, and it can be heard (or read…or seen) in the notes of whatever tune the group produces.

I had just had a good cry after a very brutal leg workout. One hour of zipping here, zipping there, and zapping the legs into some sort of conditioned bliss resulted in a total release of emotions that had been bottled up inside for some time. I wanted to skip that workout last night. I actually considered it. My buttocks were glued to my floor (I still haven’t found a desk I want for my computer, so the floor is my cushion, and as my tush is in the leaning out phase, the floor is quite painful), and I seriously had to pry them up and wriggle into my workout attire before heading into the damp drizzle that greeted me as I walked to my car. In the end, I felt better. After all, a leg session missed is a leg session lost, and it will be seen when I step forth on stage this summer.

I can’t make any predictions of what this summer will bring. (Though, Amanda might disagree. After all, I did have a psychic dream about her Sunday morning. I dreamt that she called me and told me she not only won her class at the Orange County but also won the overall. And so it goes, Sunday evening, she indeed did call with that exact news. Just call me a witch, I guess...lol.) So many things have occurred in the last year that if anyone would have come to me years ago and presented me with a motion picture summary of 2004, my eyes would have bugged out, and I would have shrieked, “No way!” I have a total fear of the unknown, and yet it’s that very unknown that makes us driven and determined to be the turtle in this race of life and shuffle our way forward…sometimes in our shells, and sometimes out of our shells and comfort zones.

Let me quote something I read today in preparation for a leadership seminar I’m attending for work tomorrow:

“Peak performers are, by common agreement, exceptional. To these people, going through the motions is anathema. From them you hear precious little talk of settling for a comfort zone where you try (but not with all your energy) and achieve (but not all your dreams). They face at least as many obstacles as other people, and go through at least as many rough times. It would be deeply surprising, however, to hear that any of them stopped. No matter how rough it gets, no matter how great the assault on body and mind, peak performers always feel they can do something. Invariably, they move on. . . . They trust that in the end they will make it. More often than not, they do.” Charles Garfield

(I must digress and say what a wonderful word “anathema” is. I had to look it up actually and make sure I knew the exact meaning, but I love seeing words like that.)

This article went on to examine Tiger Woods and what makes him stand out from the rest of the putters in his industry. All have “long drives and accurate putts,” but Woods has a “most crucial attribute: laser-like focus and unwavering concentration. [He] has balanced and integrated the physical mastery of his sport with equally remarkable skill in the art of ‘attention mastery’ . . . .” It is that “attention mastery,” that zone, if you will, of which I weave in and out when preparing for these shows. When I lose it, competing is a true struggle that becomes a gorilla. I must pull another quote that I ran across this morning to explain that analogy: “Success is a little like wrestling a gorilla; you don’t quit when you’re tired—you quit when the gorilla is tired.” I guess what I have to figure out is what exactly is the gorilla in terms of my life, in terms of these shows. I don’t agree with so many things that occur in this industry when examining politics, judging criteria, inconsistencies, lack of monetary motivation, health benefits, job opportunities for the professional athletes. I’ve spoken my mind. What else can I do? I can only control myself, my physique, my steps across the stage…and which stages I choose to step across.

I love competing. I love working out. I must meld those together and understand that that is now the entity under which I prepare for my shows this year. Where once dreams of a pro card existed in the confines of my imagination now dreams of a career exist…and yes, that does include writing—in addition to what I currently do. One day, folks, I’ll put the details of 2004 into a novel and sit on the cushions (not the floor…lol) of Oprah’s plush couch and tell the world my story (or at least my grandkids, though finding time for a date might be the first step before grandkids come along…lol!).

Until that time, give me some dumbbells and my blogger. With those two tools in hand (even if one of them is in the virtual hand), I guarantee entertainment for all who stay tuned this year.

Woah...I say I'm not going to post for a few days, and what do I do? I post every single day. I tell y'all I'm going to post every other day or every week, and what do I do? The opposite, of course, which amounts to not posting for weeks on end. Amazing. I'm a piece of work, huh? Lol!

I'm learning statistics. I use the word learning quite loosely. I'm storing it in my short term memory banks and am only gathering just enough definitions and ideas to make it through the test on Friday. I haven't felt this dumb in quite awhile. (Well, let me take that back; every single time I've gone to the bathroom at this conference center this week, I've pushed the bathroom door when it says in huge gold letters to pull, and I've pulled when it clearly says to push. I'm wondering just how many more times it will take before I finally learn the difference between the pushing and pulling motions.)

Anyway, there were a ton of things I learned about my type today. If you get tired of me talking about Myers Briggs, too bad. Go take the test so you can participate in my conversation...lol! Like I said, I'm an INTJ, and when I have more time, I'll explain what my inherent trait preferences are in more detail, but the N stands for "intuition." When perceiving the world around me, I tend to focus on the big picture and pay close attention to symbolic value, metaphorical meanings, and creative methods of getting the job done. And while I can dart over to the "sensing" side of perception (this would be denoted as an "S" in your type indicator) and exhibit a very detail-oriented nature within me, it is not the innate preference of function when I examine the world around me and my choices.

But what I learned today is that my N is my dominant function. This is what steers me through life and how I tackle everything around me. It is an introverted function, so in reading my journal, you should be able to see how this plays out, as the journal is reflective of my thoughts, and I'm an introvert (an I on the type indicator). So what does this all mean. Well, usually my gut instinct is very strong and I read very deeply into everything around me. A butterfly flies in front of me while I'm walking to my car, and I see some sort of symbolic, life-changing idea in that butterfly (and I'm not kidding; I take this stuff to the extreme, which is probably why I did so well with literature in school). But when I'm under much duress or extreme stress, my dominant side hides, and my type preference flips itself to where my inferior (or least used preference) takes over, and unfortunately, when one is stressed, the inferior type is not exhibited in a positive, conducive manner. Noooo! Instead, the monster of that function comes out. So my gut instinct hides; I quit looking at the big picture; I quit looking deep into a situation and finding the true meaning within it, and instead, I focus on tiny details that have no bearing at all and I ignore all common sense.

Guess what? When I went into that bad rebound relationship after my divorce, I was under a ton of stress, depression, and lack of motivation. I had no direction, no drive, no determination. I knew the right things to do; I knew what was in my heart to do, and yet I ignored every bit of those two items. Instead, I focused on stupid details that seemed important at the time. For example, when I was considering moving to California, one of the things keeping me from going was the fact that I didn't want to part with my washer and dryer. Okay, this seems like a stupid detail, right? I mean washer and dryers are everywhere. Every single state has them. The apartment complex we were looking at had them. But all I could focus on was the fact that I could fit my queen-sized comforter into my washer and not have a problem, and I liked the look of that washer and dryer set, and I felt some sort of connection with the two appliances...like we were joined at the hip (or the spin cycle) or something. Why in the world was I so focused on something as minute as a washer and dryer? For that matter, why did I pay such close attention to lots of tiny details: vaulted ceiling, number of windows in my apartment versus the one we were looking at, size of the entryway, color of kitchen counters. These aren't earth-shattering items. They aren't going to make or break me in life. And yet they were all I could think about for six months straight whenever the rebound guy suggested I move to California.

And today, I learned why. I couldn't deal with the situation at hand and I felt out of control. My preferential type/function had gone into hiding, so my coping mechanism was to pay attention to everything but the big picture and what was truly the problem at hand. And thus, I put aside what I knew was right to do and feel in my heart and gut and instead made some mistakes and rush decisions and had to walk a long road back to some happiness and satisfaction in my own life.

Wow. It's like a therapy session on company time...lol! Saved me the trouble of going to a shrink. Woohoo! I'm normal again! Okay, maybe that's a stretch, but it is nice to re-evaluate your previous actions and see why you made certain decisions and understand the motives behind those decisions so that you don't make the same mistakes again.

I'm off to train arms now!

Jodi

This is probably one of the shortest posts you'll ever see from me as I have no time at all this week, but I must get this little irritant of information off my chest as well. If I keep this up, I'll have no chest. Wait a minute...I already don't have a chest...lol! I'm teasing, people. This doesn't mean that I don't appreciate or don't like what I have. Quite the contrary. Anyway, this isn't about my boobs; sorry to disappoint some of you (not naming any names, Smegma).

The woman across the way from my apartment is always on her balcony. When I come home from work, she's sitting on her balcony, smoking a cigarette and staring across to this building. When I make my last meal for the evening, there she still is, sitting...staring...smoking. When I get ready for bed at night, there she is again...sitting...staring...smoking. It's beginning to freak me out. Now, I know what you're going to say. Why is it okay for me to stare at a naked man across the way and this woman can't sit on her balcony and have a smoke and a staring heyday? Well, I only looked once (nevermind that he hasn't shown the goods since then), and I don't make it a habit to sit on my balcony and peer into other people's apartments every single evening of every single day of every single week. Does this woman not have a life???? Aaargghhh!

Okay, I thought the post was going to be short, but y'all know me. By the way, speaking of me, I got my scores back from the Myers Briggs. INTJ, with a very, very, very consistent N (meaning intuition). Y'all have got to take this indicator/test. Please, please, please. And then let's discuss. It's all very intriguing and opens the lines the communication so much more! You begin to understand yourself better and accept others for who they are (except for incompetent drivers...I'll never accept them, and no, I'm not one of them. I always drive exceptionally well! Lol!).

By the way, yes, I'm keeping up with my workouts, even with this course, and I'm giving myself a virtual pat on the back for it.

I'm off to shower and go to bed. Goodnight, y'all!

Jodi

It’s amazing. I go for a week or two and don’t write anything, and then I produce two journal entries in one day. I’m going to forewarn y’all that this week will be one from hell. I will be in the Myers Briggs certification course Tuesday through Friday and will have to prepare for the test on Friday while continuing to train for my show. And dumb one that I am, I increased my cardio to seven days a week this week. Of all the weeks for me to do this to myself, and I choose my busiest one. Figures. Anyway, I can pretty much guarantee that you won’t be hearing from me until next weekend.

Grocery stores. I actually went to Super Target, which I must say is the best invention in the retail business that I’ve ever seen. I could get lost in there. For that matter, so could my wallet. And both of us almost did today. I had to remind myself of what I truly needed and what was simply superfluous. I nearly walked off with some purple sheets but I decided that might be going overboard in the purple department, as I already have purple in the bathroom, purple in the dining room, and purple in the living room. I’ll go into that in more detail in another journal entry if anyone is interested. Can you guess that purple is my favorite color? And it’s not some god-awful purple. It really does look nice!

There I go, off on a tangent, so let me get back to my original topic. Going to the grocery store isn’t that big of an excursion for me. My entire grocery list is predetermined and doesn’t change hardly at all from week to week. Steak, chicken, tuna, salmon, tilapia, broccoli, red potatoes, lettuce, green beans, strawberries, raspberries, sometimes blueberries, lots of eggs, and old fashioned oats (what is the big difference between Quaker oats and the store brand oats…we’re talking a good $1.50 in price difference here, and it’s not like comparing a Lexus to a Toyota. It’s oats for goodness’ sake!). Occasionally, I saunter down the toiletries aisle and spend decades picking out which scent of body wash I want for the week and which toothpaste will really whiten my teeth the best and which toothbrush not only looks really cool (and has purple on it, of course) but also has the latest brushing mechanism and which razor will finally do the trick and get the stubble to disappear forever (or at least for the day) from my legs. The joys of being a girl. Oh yes, and if I really want to waste time, I study the various nail polishes and lip glosses that have come out and decide if I want to pay $8.49 for that perfect shade of berry.

About the only thing that makes my trip to the grocery store exciting is the chance to people watch. And the really fun part about people watching in a grocery store is that this is your one opportunity to find out almost everything you ever wanted to know about a stranger (and probably more than you wanted to know). Just look in a person’s cart, look at them, and then look back at the cart. You suddenly find out who is on her period, who has a craving for Cool Ranch Doritos, who can’t cook, who is addicted to caffeine, so on and so forth.

And then there’s the flirting that goes on, which brings me to my whole reason of making this post. When you make googly eyes at someone in the store, how on earth do you go about talking to that person? I mean it’s obvious both of you have some interest in the other; otherwise, you wouldn’t be turning down aisles that you have no business being in (like men near Tampax tampons and women in the automotive section…not that I did this…honest…I’m being serious…believe me!). But really, what does one say? How about those melons? (Or in my case, how about that rump roast?) Bad joke. But it’s an honest to goodness topic here. Two people catch eyes a few times after nearly banging carts in crowded aisles, and you know there’s some sort of interest, and then you go about your business and never see the person again. Just because you didn’t open your mouth and speak, that person is out of your life forever.

And this can happen anywhere. Do you ever wonder what has happened to all the people you made eye contact with and seemed to have had some sort of chemical connection before they disappeared and headed into the abyss of their own lives? To take it one step further, how about when you do actually run into that person again? Fate? Coincidence? Is it a sign that you have a second chance to actually make some small talk and find out once and for all if you should have stuck to imagination or if the real thing might be even better?

Interesting, huh? Well, it is to me…lol! Anyway, never think that a grocery trip is just a grocery trip. Just like my ride on the train tomorrow might not be just a train ride. (Hopefully, it won’t be a train wreck! Ha! Okay, no need for the drums. I know it was a bad joke. I’m full of them today, aren’t I?) Yes, you heard it correctly. I’m riding the train tomorrow. I was supposed to last Friday, but if I were to go into why I didn’t make it, we’d be here forever, not like I haven’t already written enough. Anyway, my car…my poor, poor car…seems to not like my 40-minute commute into downtown. Of course, that 40 minutes turned into an hour and even an hour and twenty minutes several times last week. Not fun and a total waste of time! I want to eventually get a new car, so I’m thinking that by taking the train, I can save money on gas, on downtown parking ($80 a month for the parking garage), and on tolls (a good $3 a day). If I do it long enough, I should have a few car payments saved up, and then I can go car shopping. Between the perpetual oil leak (and oil blowing all over the engine), the electrical problem with my signals, the leak in the trunk, the squealing brakes, and the tires that don’t understand the concept of holding air for a consistent length of time, I think it’s time. I’ve been without a car payment for seven years, so it’s time for the monetary suffering to begin soon. I just have to figure out exactly how much money I’m willing to part with in order to have a car that I like, that is safe, and that fits my personality. Any suggestions?

I’ll leave it at that. I’m off to enjoy the rest of my Sunday and stock up on sleep. A catnap sounds good right about now! I love lazy Sundays!
Jodi

There are a lot of other things I want to talk about, but this is on my chest, so to speak, and I'm going to get it off of it for the time being.

The results for the Junior USA's were posted late last night, and one photographer who posted them made a statement along the lines of: "The harder girls were left on the outside looking in." I glanced through the provided pictures and honestly could not see a huge difference in conditioning between girls who made top five and girls who didn't. Granted, these are pictures I'm looking at and not all the pictures from all the angles of the quarter turns have been presented, but still.

Let me make a sidenote here and preface this by saying that I am not implying in any way shape or form my opinion of the actual physiques of the competitors in this show. I will say this. Shoulders are in. Just like orange is in the color for women this spring and summer, and velvet suits are the trend for this fall for men as are patterned pants during the warm months (I didn't make the trends; I'm just reporting them), thick shoulders are doing the trick for the proverbial runway of the figure scene.

Let me continue with the point at hand.

So I responded to him with a query and a homework assignment. I'm actually being serious here and not just playing upon my history as a teacher. I asked again why there isn't a system in place that divulges categories in which the women are being judged in figure and the percentages that display the weight for each category. It only makes sense, wouldn't you say? Who knows. Maybe I'm just being too logical and making things too simple here, but every other sport or organized activity that people either pay to watch or pay to play seems to have a rule book, a guide book, or something along those lines, right? I mean we don't step foot on a football field and not know the first thing of how our skill level is about to be judged. And we don't step into a standardized test with only a number two pencil and prayer in hand (okay, maybe we do, but hopefully something or someone somewhere told us what was to be tested and where the points were coming from before we bubbled in our first answer).

But with figure in the NPC (and the IFBB), we literally step on stage wondering if we have too many veins, too many striations, too few cuts in the quads, too many cuts in the quads, too hard of an abdomen, too soft of an abdomen. Is our back wide enough, are our legs too big...too little? I think Goldilocks had an easier time finding the right bowl of porridge than figure competitors do in finding the right stage and the right judge who will provide the right response to her physique.

Consistency should be the name of the game. Fairness should be as well. Okay, okay. That's asking for a lot. Life isn't fair, but why make it even harder by not establishing any ground rules for an organization that requires you pay $90 a year just to have the right to step on stage. (By the way, it's about $200 a year for the IFBB competitors...did ya know that? And those are the pros, boys and girls. Pros. Pros paying to stand on stage and be confused about the criteria just like us lowly amateurs.)

I guess I'm just wondering if I'm a minority in my desire to know beforehand what I'm being judged on and what the expectations are for the coming competitive year. I shouldn't have to wait for the first national show of the year and the assumptions that piggyback it to then figure out what I need to do for my physique. Or is that what my $90 a year affords me (this doesn't include the $50 to $75 fee for each show I choose to register for)?

I really think there is a simple solution to this overwhelming problem in the NPC. Create a computer system that has a database of the competitors. Within that computer system devise a point system that a committee has agreed upon (I would hope that my $90 a year membership would afford me the right to vote for who is on that committe so I have a voice somehow of what goes into the critera...again, that may be asking a bit much). Print out a copy of that point system with an explanation sheet or booklet that discusses each category and how it is weighed. Provide pictures or drawings of specific examples of how each body part is expected to look and what the ideal figure physique would be. Do this for suits, hair, make up, presentation details. This might need to be different depending upon body type and height class. Then do a mass mail out to your database of competitors. A competitor gets added to the database once she has paid her dues. She then goes into the contest prep and the show itself knowing exactly what is expected. The judges then have laptops in front of them during the judging process; they type in their points which get weighed according to the percentages provided, and they have room to quickly and briefly type in comments. The sheet then gets mailed to the competitor after the show or printed out and handed to her after the show (there's been an excellent invention as of late...the laser print. Awesome tool!). The computer does all the math, spits out the numbers, and voila! Human mathematical error (awhile back, I discussed the math mistakes at the 2004 Emerald Cup) is effaced, time is saved, and all questions are answered publicly and openly.

Take it a step further and put the sheets in PDF files on the NPC website, and the whole fanbase and fellow competitors/trainers can compare results and photos and see exactly what the judges are expecting for the competitive season. Ooh...ooh...one more thing. By publicly displaying such an open and informative judging tool, the rumors about politics in this industry are also dispelled. Imagine that!

Now, why can I figure this out and the NPC can't...or won't? I'm sure I have just blackballed myself out of a pro card, though my twelfth place finish at last year's Junior Nationals was foreboding enough, I'd say. But seriously, folks. Am I asking too much? Am I making things too complicated here? Should I just shut up and continue building my shoulders and hope for the best? Should I just grin and bear it?

My answer is no to those questions, but then again, I'm biased. After all, these are my ideas out of my little brain, and I'm kind of partial to things that come out of my brain. Lol!

On that note, I'm taking my brain to the grocery store for brain food (and muscle food). I have a show to prepare for this summer, and I may not know exactly how lean to get, how big is too big for my back, how hard is too hard for my glutes, or how small is too small for my arms, but I do know that it's time to eat, and my refrigerator seems to be devoid of any chicken today. Major crisis!

Jodi

Myers Briggs. My head is spinning right now. Think of those dots that dance beneath your eyelids after you've stared at a bright light for several seconds. All the letters denoting the various personality types are currently doing their own jig in my mind. Sixteen different personalities in the world. And which one are you? Curious? Visit www.bloginality.love-productions.com (I swear, I was not surfing the web for matchmaking/singles sites. I swear!). Or visit www.personalitypage.com, and on both of these sites, you'll find links to taking the Myers Briggs Type Indicator test. I highly recommend it partly for fun and partly to see what your intrinsic traits are when you are forced to choose between two realms of thought. I'm going to create a thread on the members' board for us to talk about our personality types and see if we agree with what the test spits out at us. I wavered a bit on just one of the areas, but I'll wait to discuss that until I start the thread.

I took the test my first week at work. Nothing like already facing a test during my first baby steps into the corporate world. I didn't like the questions. No, let me rephrase that. I didn't like my multiple choice options. Vanilla or chocolate? Black or white? Day or night? One or the other? I have close to zero decision-making skills and tend to like the response, "Both, please!" I'm always afraid that I'm missing out on something else if I choose one option as opposed to other (and it doesn't matter which option I choose, I still think I'm losing out on some sort of experience either way; if I order vanilla ice cream over the chocolate, I spend my moments of licking the vanilla treat thinking of what the chocolate would have tasted like, and vice versa...I'm a nightmare to deal with...lol!).

Anyway, I struggled through the test, my pencil wavering back and forth between the A bubble and the B bubble on my test sheet. I must be honest and tell you that I knew the purpose of the test as soon as I read the first question, but I tried desperately to not put too much cognitive thought into which bubbles to darken on the answer sheet. See, I remember a testing experience in seventh grade (that seems soooo long ago...oh no! Old age is setting in! Lol!) when I took a career aptitude test. I desperately wanted to be a lawyer (don't ask), so every answer of mine to every question on that test was skewed to make the results demonstrate that I clearly needed to move into lawyerdom (I learned to steer quite clear of any thoughts of law school later in life while working for the Texas Law Review during my college years). When the results came in the mail, my mother took one look at the discrepancies and scolded me for trying to outsmart the test. She exclaimed, "Now we have no earthly idea what you are meant to do." And she meant it...lol! I have, after all, gone through several career paths. Again...lack of decision-making skills. Did I mention that I take after her? Lol!

This is not unlike when I would visit a therapist (oh, come on...don't snicker; I was a product of the eighties, which meant that everyone and their cats and dogs sat on the proverbial couch and discussed their childhood woes and parents' utter flaws in child-rearing capabilities to some stranger that charged a sliding scale fee). She would ask a question, and I would, in turn, sit and ponder--what answer "should" I give in order to get her to say that I'm right and healthy and the people around me have the problems. I obviously needed therapy...lol!

Oh, look what I've done now. I have totally traveled onto a tangent. Maybe my Myers Briggs Indicator can explain the intrinsic reasoning behind this. By the way (not to start a new tangent or anything; I'd never do such a thing!), what do you think of the age old "nature vs. nurture" debate? Myers Briggs relies heavily on Carl Jung's thoughts that we are born with certain personality traits, and while interactions in society can create new variables in our attitudes and our methods of tackling situations, we still have certain intrinsic qualities. This can really make one think about characters in novels who seem to be inherently evil (The Portrait of Dorian Gray comes to my mind; I'm dying to discuss this novel...if I could just figure out which box I packed that book into) or naturally good (think of Jane Eyre).

I think I'll leave you on that note and see what responses I get to this entry. I could go into a ton of explanation of all the personality types and provide lots of rhetoric of how to interpret the results, but I really want readers to go in with a clear head and not try to outsmart the test. I will say this...there is no wrong answer on the test. Maybe that's why I found such difficulty in taking it. After all, it's not wrong to choose vanilla over chocolate or vice versa. It's just a personal preference (depending on my mood, how long I've been dieting, and how badly I'm PMSing, of course; and I suppose that could go for either the Myers Briggs responses or the vanilla/chocolate debate...lol!).

Have fun! Oh yeah...I am dieting still. And I'm on a caffeine high right about now. Five hours of sleep a night require a new affinity for coffee it seems. Help!

Jodi