It’s one week until show date and I’ve totally got my groove on.  I may not be where I want to be, but I know I look different. And frankly, I should look different — yes, this is stab at those of you who told me you’ve noticed no difference in the last 8 weeks. 

I have been working my butt off. I’m lifting heavier weights and went from 134 pounds to my pre-show weight of 123 pounds. Plus, I dropped from 19 percent fat to 14 percent.  Normally, I like to compete at 10 to 12 percent fat, but whatever. Too late to complain about that now; I should have worked harder earlier.

While the scale tells me the basics, it’s the people of Sacramento who are pushing me to keep going.  A couple cashiers at the organic co-op complimented me on my toned arms and people at the gym have asked if I’m doing a show or something.  And all the people who work in my apartment complex have been watching me sweat on the treadmill every morning. They must think I live in the gym as I seem to be always there.

People at work are also commenting on my changes – especially as my waist is down to less than 24 inches and my legs look more toned in my work dresses.  My jeans are another story. They look like crap as they are now too big. Good thing spring is here and it is skirt and Capri pant season.

Of course, with the compliments, you get the naysayers.

Yeah, you know who they are. These people don’t workout or have a health degree, but they seem to know a lot about bodybuilding and the fitness industry.  These are the people who worry you are going to die at any moment so you should stop and go back to “normal.”

A lot them also seem to have friends who got cancer from training or ruined their bone density or something weird that nearly killed them.  I especially love the ones who haven’t seen you in months, but still find a way to critique you through the phone.

The naysayers don’t really bug me as I know most of them love me in their own way. Plus, it shows my workout plan is working. If I looked the same, they wouldn’t be passing out the death warnings. All my hours in the gym are paying off.

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