I’m a lousy blogger. There. I’ve said it. I know it’s been a kagillion days since my last entry and the fitness competition and people have been pressing me for updates. But I chalk it up to being in a food coma….and on vacation (Iceland, Paris, Barcelona and London). So to my loyal fans – Mama apologizes and is now back on the wagon….well for writing at least. As for eating… that’s a whole other story.
Okay before I being to recap the insanity of the competition and the post debauchery I just need to clarify one thing. NO I AM NOT TURNING 40 THIS YEAR. If peeps read the first blog, I did mention Mama’s got plenty of time to complete this list. All right that’s all I need to say on that.
Now as for the rest….Dear God where do I even begin?
As many of you know the competition was scheduled for July 17th. And the weekend before I decided to attend a posing workshop. I swear I never felt more judged than when I walked into that room. It was a rainy Sunday (if any of you can even remember that far back) and I showed up wearing my comfy clothes, shorts, a hoodie and sneakers…apparently a bad choice. No one mentioned the wardrobe protocol before the training session.
The moment I walked into the studio full of ladies in their short shorts, bikini tops and stripper shoes, the woman coaching the workshop (who I might add was 48 and had the body of an 18 year old) totally gave me a disgusted once-over head to toe. And it didn’t end there. For those of you that know me – I pretty much will talk to anyone (which for the most part is a good thing…except for that 1st week in LA where the creepy old man across the DGA wanted to talk to me about cock-sucker lips and help me figure out why men want to fuck me so I could market that as an actress….but I digress).
As we sat there listening to the instructors talk to us about the right shade of tanning and to make sure to sleep with gloves on so you don’t drool on your hands and taint the tan job (I’m dead serious), I happened to turn over to one of the other contestants caught her eye and smiled. And I shit you not; she took one look at me, scowled and turned away. And that wasn’t the only one. I overheard that this other woman, who also looked smoking hot (this place would’ve been a guys wet dream) had 3 kids, so at the end of the workshop I went up to her and said, “I just wanted to say you look amazing and I’m impressed at your body especially after 3 kids.” She just said, “I know. Thanks.” and turned away from me. I was beginning to feel a little bit like a leper. But I decided to give them all the benefit of the doubt and blame it on the food deprivation – I mean please, I know what bitchy hunger looks like. Plus it hurts my feelings less to think of it that way.
We proceeded to learn the obligatory poses: relaxed (which I might add is nothing of the sort), ¼ turns, back pose, frontal pose, the OMG I am going to vomit pose (okay that one’s just mine). You know you wouldn’t think standing in my clear stripper stilettos (which I finally found by the way) would be that bad but I swear my thighs and my ass were on fire after the workshop (and this time it wasn’t due to my bad gas). That was like a workout in itself.
So we are now 6 days away from the competition and yes, I have let the craziness seep in a little. I wasn’t going to go to a tanning salon – that was just plain stupid. I am Indian for Gods sakes, we’re born tanned… and hairy – but that’s for a later entry. Ok, I will admit, I did buy a can of Coppertone Spray on Bronzer just to give me that little extra oomph. My lucky husband (or sucker depending on the day) was in charge of spraying my ass, back and thighs for me. I am pretty sure nowhere in our marriage contract does it say “husband will vow to spray wife as she lies bent over newspaper”. But hey – what is a marriage for if not stuff like this?
On the last day before the competition I was told to not have any water. One 500ml water bottle was what I was allowed to consume for the whole day. And believe me I savored that puppy.
The morning of as I entered the St. Lawrence Centre for the Arts and walked backstage I couldn’t believe my eyes. There in this large room were men and women in their skivvies busy getting pasted by their trainers with a product called Dream Tan. I swear they were darker than I (except I was born this way – I believe the clinical term for my shade is “darkie”). And let’s not forget that the entire backstage corridor, building and dressing room walls were covered in plastic in order to protect it from the tan. Apparently this shit doesn’t actually stay on the body that well so whatever you lean on will be covered. I felt like I was in an insane asylum…in more ways than one.
The only time 2 straight men in bikinis will be okay with rubbing each other down
The girls in the dressing room started to have me freaked a little – telling me I’d be too white on stage and I should go upstairs and buy the $40 2oz jar of Dream Tan. And I will admit, I almost fell for it. Thank God I stepped out of the building to clear my head.
That's my arm on the left (with the bronzer) and I am still whiter than the white chicks.
Things that continued to shock me:
- Wanting to use baby oil to add that extra glisten and being told that I should use the cans of Pam Cooking Spray instead that were all around the theatre (I’m not lying – these freaks were greased to the nines in this shit and ready for the grill);
- Bikini Bite – picture crazy glue in a roll on (this is to prevent your bikini from going up the crack of your ass – which apparently you get points taken off for) Of course no one tells you how to get the gunk off afterwards…still a little chafed from that;
- The Pump Room – same as the Paste room, just scattered with weights and wreaking of bad onions (that many half naked bodies drenched in paste and Pam is enough to turn anyone’s stomach).
The "Pump / Paste Room"
I didn’t realize how insane this actually was. I’ll admit I started to get caught up in the nervous energy backstage. These women were neurotic. And I thought actors were bad. I had to keep reminding myself that I was doing this just for fun – not to place. Just for me.
And the irony of it all: I WON 5TH PLACE!! (And for the first time in my life, I WAS the whitest person on stage). Boy, were those skinny bitches pissed when I walked back with my medallion.
I didn’t even wait for the evening to end. I literally walked my ass off stage right, got dressed and went straight to our favorite Italian Restaurant, Ferro (www.ferrobarcafe.ca) downed a whole pizza, 2 glasses of wine and went home on a rampage for chocolate. Realizing I got rid of any kind of thing in the home I decided to down the chocolate covered protein bar sitting in my pantry at midnight for dessert.
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What you can't see is that this is the last slice of a full pizza |
I am ashamed (and a little proud) to say it didn’t end there. Woke up the next morning went for brunch at High Park and had a large mochaccino, 3 poached eggs, one pancake, 4 strips of bacon, 2 sausages, 4 pieces of toast, and hash browns. Followed by ice cream sandwiches (2), 2 bags of rice chips, and then later on a plate of vegetables, a wheel of Camembert with crackers ¾ of a bottle of wine (I thought Michael and I had shared the bottle till I found out the next morning he only had one glass, the rest I devoured). You would think at that point I would be in toxic shock and passed out. Nope. I proceeded to walk to the corner store at 9pm to get a bag of jujubes and a box of chocolate.
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Better than water |
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I wasn't lying...the power brunch |
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I think I hit my food coma at this point but I wasn't about to stop |
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Just needed a wee nap before the next meal |
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Back at it in no time! |
I’d like to say that I've gotten back on the wagon of healthy eating but sadly I have lost complete control again. Amazing how long it can take your body to get into shape and how quickly you can pack the pounds back on. It could be all the baguettes and Brie and wine consumed in Paris, or the fish and chips (and wine) in London, or the copious amount of sangria and paella in Barcelona…or the fact that I am just a pig. But at least I can proudly say that once I did get my dream body I wanted and even got a prize for it. Something someday grandkids can be proud of (I’m not saying they have to be mine).
So there is the last 49 days in a nutshell.
Volleyball took a part somewhere during those days but I still can’t really say that I “played” the sport. Hey, at least 2 things are knocked off the list. Working on the 3rd. I signed up for a writing course through the city’s parks and recreations program. Turns out it’s held at a senior’s centre - and I am the only one who’s not a senior – but hey, it’ll make for interesting material for my short. Oh and forgot to mention I am running a half marathon on Sept 26th. Being that I already ran a half marathon 2 years ago and this will be my second half, does that equate to running a full? 2 halves do make a whole right? In that case you can knock 4 things off the list soon!
And I know many of you have been asking to see pics from the competition and I have been reluctant to show them. But now that I no longer have that body maybe it’s good motivation to get my shit together - and stop eating shit (I'll save them for the end of the blog...to force you to keep reading...that's considering you've even made it this far).
Haven’t added new stuff to the bucket list just yet – with only a few more spots open I find myself being really precious about them and don’t want to list just anything. So if you have suggestions that will rock my world (and be feasible) feel free to holler.
Okay, I’m off to figure out how to get the plate of nachos, 2 glasses of wine, ½ zone bar and 8 chocolate covered graham crackers out of my body.
More to come – this time more regularly…I hope.
PS. I met a super lovely trainer named Jane Clapp at an event for Caitlin Cronenberg (David Cronenberg’s daughter) who has a fantastic blog and a great approach to fitness and health. You can read about her at: ihearttosweat.blogspot.com and visit her site at www.urbanfitt.com
And now for the reveal...
And now for the reveal...
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