When I say that I’m going to do something, I fucking well do it. Yep. I get ‘er done, never approaching things halfway, always ‘bringing my best.’ That’s not to say that the final results are consistently stellar. Take, for instance, my figure competition on Saturday.  If you have been following this blog, you know how hard I worked during the past year, and especially last five months: dieting with few unsanctioned cheats, training for 133 of the past 135 days (shout out to 2DO, though I doubt she approves of those two days off), swallowing shitloads of supplements, and obeying QMR’s directions in minute detail. The week leading up to the contest I even spent my nights wearing the saran pants pictured below. In an extremely depleted state, I would first take a hot bath in epsom salts, and then slather my thighs, buttocks, and abdomen in preparation H, before covering myself tightly in cling wrap and attempting to sleep. During my first fitting, I foolishly forgot to leave a pee hole. My three-day water load and long gel nails soon took care of that oversight.

  Continue reading →