Saturday night at Regionals

Ramblings Post #179
Things change. People change. It's part of the circle of life and what makes us grow stronger and get better. I've changed. I once told Sporty that in essence, we're not the same person when we go to bed at night as we were when woke up that morning. We're always becoming someone else, and that's who we are. That said, when we stop changing - except when forced - is when we get old. And I'm not getting old any time soon.

So Saturday night, I go to Schmoopy's "thing" to support.

For the last six months or so, she's been on a health kick that makes my weight loss deal look like I've been eating brownies for breakfast and taking pizza through an Iv. Where as I get grapes, wheat toast and one scrambled egg for breakfast, she got a single small bowl of oatmeal and an hour of cardio.

She went hard core.

Which is how I ended up at the Georgia International Convention Center for the Atlantic Bodybuilding Regional show. Tickets were $35. I told Schmoopy that I really must like her to spending this kinda loot. But I do really like her, so I went on and ponied up the cash.

When ESPN was down at the bottom of its programming barrel a few years back, I would occasionally flip past a bodybuilding show, so I had some idea of what it was. And since the fitness model swimsuit issue was, at least to me way better than the SI swimsuit issue, I had at one time owned at least an issue or two of a body building magazine. Ages ago I might have even read one back when I was in shape. Way back, in the long, long ago.

So I show up, and it's now quite what I expected. Well, to be realistic, I wasn't sure what too expect, so anything that happened would have been unexpected. Part of my confusion came because I found out later that the most of the actual judging had actually happened that morning at 10am, when I was in class and which required a separate ticket. So, initially when the guys came out, posed for 90 seconds to some music and trophies were briskly awarded, I wasn't sure what was going on. The stunning woman sitting in front of me filled me in on that part.

To be honest most interesting part of the show, however....was the crowd. I sat in the back so I could watch most of them come in. The room was a mix of other bodybuilders, family, friends, friends who were also body builders, the large black guys that are ubiquitous in Atlanta, and the women. Apparently muscular guys in little trunks attract a lot of women. Who knew?

So then it happens. The guys have posed. Trophy are awarded. The the fitness model portion of the show starts. And suddenly the place turned into a pep rally. At Hooters.

Now, because I hadn't actually seen Schmoopy since she started this...and the last FB pic I had seen of her made her arms look a little muscular, I figured this was one more thing I had to sit through until the muscular women came out. The fitness models came on stage, skimpy bikini's, bouncing and strutting and bodies glistening. I was still in the back, trying to figure out much longer this would last and marveling at the sudden turn of the crowd from family friendly to a more "adult" atmosphere.

It wasn't until they announced Schmoopy's real name for winning Second place that I realized she had been on stage. The woman who had been explaining the nuances of the event to me laughed at my shock. Schmoopy hadn't been gearing up for the bodybuilder part...she'd been working hard to be a bikini model.

Side note: Considering she restricted her diet to the basics and did a twice a day crippling workout, I have new respect for fitness models.

Schmoopy is a normally a conservative person, and so the idea of her onstage during this portion of the show, where the girls acted bubbly and the announcer didn't have to exhort the crowd in applause surprised me. When I talked to her later, she said that the swagger she'd had on stage was her being "in character". Turns out a bubbly beach bunny type actually works out hard to look like that. Go figure. She felt it was a good experience and that she's gonna continue it as hobby.

So, $35 for 90 seconds. Which is about how long she was onstage. And for 89 of those seconds I didn't even know it was her, I was so far in the back. But then they'd done the judging in the morning so this was for the crowd. After she'd gone up, gotten her trophy and I'd let her know I had been there because she asked, I left. Maybe I was intimated by the guys in the 50 and older division. Maybe I felt a little bad as the women looked through me to guy with D-cup pecs. Maybe I decided to go and work on my own transformation via law school.

Barkeep. Water for me and whatever it is fitness models drink for my girl.