After something like 11 weeks on a prep diet with my share of “mind fuck” moments and a thousand unknowns about how the big day would go, after having totally dragged ass the likes of which I had never experienced with no energy for the final two weeks, while somehow managing to stay on top of training, cardio, and posing practice, finally it was the weekend of my first show.

I was lucky in that there were a couple of friends I knew would be in the show, guys who had been competing for a couple years and who had already been helpful to me, answering some of my questions during contest prep: Ken Arsenault and Al Gaccione. They helped me out with getting the color on, and generally showed me the ropes, so I wasn’t clueless on where I should be at a certain time or when to pump up, etc. They were a huge help.

Probably the most indispensable person to me in the run up to that first contest was my trainer, John Yobst (www.lean-physique.com). His knowledge of nutrition was key in obtaining unbeatable conditioning, and he’s an exceptional posing coach. I learned most of what I know about posing from him.

I had read the basics of contest dieting and I already knew a decent amount about training, but when I decided to start competing I chose to work with a trainer for contest prep. Some people do it on their own, determining through trial and error the diet strategy that works best for them. I have huge respect for that – for the patience it takes over the course of what can be multiple attempts, and for the totally self-made nature of the successes they achieve. The way I looked at it was this: even though there’s a certain amount of experimentation involved when you’re working with a trainer for the first time (they have to get to know your strong and weak points, your metabolism, etc), the first contest prep would be a lot less of a crapshoot with their guidance. It would be the best chance for me to go into it at my absolute best.

I believe there’s a lot a trainer can pick up in person that they can’t tell from photos, so I wanted to work with one who I could actually meet with. I was lucky in that there were several good trainers within driving distance. I remembered reading about John in some extremely positive things a former client of his had said on the OCB’s message board. In late June 2007 I decided to take some pics in a few of the basic poses as I understood them, and send them with an inquiry on whether he’d take me as a client. He responded with a definite yes, so I made an appointment and started prep with him close to mid-July. He was sure from day one I’d arrive at show day shredded and very ready to rock – and he was absolutely right.

I met with him every couple of weeks, integrated his training advice into my workouts, and practiced to adopt every posing tip he showed me. He made diet adjustments at each meeting and I followed them to the letter, which in that first season became very hard in the final 3 or 4 weeks. It was in those last weeks I learned what you might call a typical saying or a common thought among competitors: if you don’t feel like crap deep in contest prep, you must be doing something wrong!

This leads me to admit I was not an easy client that first season! There were times I’d show up ornery or otherwise in the middle of the head games that come with contest prep, but he always let it roll off him and we’d end up having great, productive sessions even on those days. Throughout the process he was vocal about positive aspects of how things were going, critical when he needed to be, and totally no-nonsense about the diet. I can’t overstate how valuable his guidance was.

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The show was in driving distance from home, but I didn’t want to drive up the morning of and risk being late. I would have been a raw bundle of nerves making a gamble like that. Gatch and I carpooled up to Maine and split a room at the hotel recommended by the show promoter, a place only a mile or so from the venue. Once there I took my first ever lie detector test, hung out for a while talking with Gatch and Ken, then went back to the room.

I couldn’t sleep, or even get drowsy. It wasn’t jittery type nerves, but more like excitement and anticipation. I walked up and down the halls and around the parking lot to keep from just sitting or lying in the room in dark silence. Eventually sheer mental and physical exhaustion got me a couple hours sleep.

I woke up early and took a shower. BIG MISTAKE!! I lost a lot of the color I had spent the last 2 or 3 days building up, and putting a new coat of Jan Tana over it didn’t make enough of a difference. (I had chosen to use several coats of Pro Tan as a base, then apply Jan Tana fake tan over it. This turned out not to be a good choice for me, and for later shows I changed products.) During the day I came to realize it was running as I sweat on stage, and I got some help trying to fix it. The running continued, and overall the coating had not been nearly dark enough to begin with. My color was a complete MESS and nothing short of starting over would fix it, but thankfully I didn’t realize just HOW bad it was until after the show was over. At the end of the day a couple judges told me it was bad enough so it almost affected my placings, but thankfully they were able to look past it.

To backtrack a little – being at the hotel, getting the lie detector test etc all were final elements of the lead up to show day but none of it really made it seem real, that I was about to compete. I was excited for the event, but it didn’t seem real. Getting in the car on show day to drive to the venue, that started to change. Checking in at the venue and assembling with the others for the competitors meeting, the excitement started to be enhanced by adrenalin and the energy drag I had been dealing with for a couple weeks started to fade.

Before I go on, I want to say a word about what it was like backstage. We were all there to compete against each other, of course. But there was never a time when that affected the atmosphere among the competitors at all. It was like I was back there with a bunch of friends, whether they were newcomers or veteran competitors. People would introduce themselves, start up a conversation, even compliment each other on how they looked that day. And every single competitor showed excellent sportsmanship throughout, from positive vibes backstage to things like a “congrats man” spoken to a stranger. All of this was definitely a part of making it a great day for everyone, and something I’ve found consistent in every OCB show I’ve participated in.

While I was hanging out backstage, before my first class got called out I heard someone seem to recognize me and ask “Jerry?” It wasn’t Gatch or Ken, and those were the only two people I thought I knew there. It was this guy with hair bleached yellow and starched up into a fake mohawk…….. I had no idea who he was until he told me: Eddie Giargiari, who I had met at the very beginning of my contest prep, at a posing class at Sully’s house. It turned out he was a hell of a nice guy, and we helped each other pump up. I didn’t know it at the time of course, but he and I would be each other’s shadows in terms of the day’s competition in the novice and open tall classes – and again a week later in the open medium tall class at the Cape Cod Naturals. I would place right behind him in two classes in Maine and another at the Cape show.

Anyway, the time came when my first class was called: the novices. NOW is when it became real – very real, very quick. When I lined up to go out on stage all the questions I had wondered about during the 2 ½ months of prep, how my posing would go, how well I’d stack up to the competition, and I don’t remember what else – all of it just evaporated and I think I went on auto-pilot.

The first impression I had on stage was a blend of “holy shit, it’s ON” and being sort of taken by how open it felt to be out there. I had practiced posing in my apartment and in the aerobics room at the gym, but now I was in this big, expansive space under bright lights in front of a darkened auditorium that extended back for what seemed like a long way at the time. It definitely felt different not having walls within a few feet all around. But anyway this was the moment I had trained for, dieted for, practiced posing for – I sort of automatically did my thing. Obviously I was not alone on stage but in a way, I was. It was just me and the head judge’s voice calling the poses. I had no idea what the rest of the guys looked like and now that I think about it, I realize I had not paid any attention backstage to sizing up the competition.

I hit the poses as they were called out. I don’t think it ever occurred to me to look down at the judges, or into the audience. I guess I was nervous, but all my attention was on hitting each pose and holding it as hard as I could. I thought I was keeping a neutral expression on my face, but later I found out that’s not exactly what showed up! In some shots there is a sort of deer in the headlights look, and others show different sort of severe expressions. The intensity running through me at the time showed through, not the smile everyone says a competitor needs to master while posing. I have no problem with that; it was my first show.

All the practice I had put into posing leading up to the show paid off. After the show I was complimented by a couple of the judges on my posing, and that made for a great counterbalance to the color problem. Newbies get a pass on some things, and my rookie mistake was my coloration.

Right from the first of my three classes that day, I got the sense I was in some tough competition despite that the show itself was small. We were held on stage for what seemed like forever each time, with poses being repeated as the judges moved us around to compare us to each other. In the novices and in the open talls I remember several times when we were in a side relaxed posture, and I’d find myself looking directly into the back of that yellow mohawk. It didn’t register with me at the time that Eddie and I were being compared against each other as class front-runners.

One of those occasions was a time when I DID smile, maybe the only time during the prejudging of that first show. I forget which class it was in, but “my shadow” Eddie and I were side by side in a front relaxed posture waiting for a pose to be called. For a moment the whole hall was silent except for this little voice somewhere in the audience that called out “Go daddy!”… it was one of Eddie’s kids calling out to his dad. I heard Eddie next to me say “Hi buddy” to his 3-year-old son, not loud enough for anyone out there to hear – it lightened the moment!

As the show moved along, my other classes quickly came up. In the masters there were only 4 of us – Ken, two other guys, and me. I came in 2nd to Adam Berk, in what I’m told was a close decision. A judge told me it went to Adam because he brought better density overall, and I think he also had better proportions than I did at the time. In the open talls, Eddie and I were comparable in some ways in the upper body but his legs totally dominated mine.

The overall pose down was open class winners Eddie and Gatch. That was great to see, I was proud for both of them. Eddie won, but I think it was a close decision.

Awards – I remember hanging out backstage with most of the competitors sort of clumped up in the wings, waiting to hear who placed where. I had spent the prior 11 weeks hoping I’d do well, planning to give it my best but I had never really formed any expectations, and never really imagined any “what if” situations. Mostly I wanted to look like I belonged out there, and if I placed anywhere in the top 5 of any one class, that would be pure frosting on the cake.

During the show people had been telling me I was going to place well, I was definitely going home with some kind of hardware. I had been flattered to hear it, but it hadn’t really clicked. As they started announcing the novice placings first, Eddie was more attentive to it than I was – he had just done his own first show 2 weeks previously, and was hoping to place better at this one. 5th, 4th, 3rd got called out and I started to think “holy crap…” – you know that feeling you get when it dawns on you something big is about to happen? When they announced 3rd and it wasn’t me, Eddie came over with a huge excited smile on his face, saying something like “you did it man!!” I’m sure he knew at that moment one of us was the class winner and the other would be the runner up. As I looked at him saying this, and it was just starting to dawn on me, they called my name for 2nd place and I went out on stage. It was very real and sort of surreal at the same time. I went out, took my place, and IFPA pro Brett Oteri – one of the judges that day –shook my hand and awarded me my first trophy. At this point, I had the smile nailed pretty well!

As the presentations went on, I got called out again for 2nd in the masters tall class, and again for 2nd to Eddie in the open talls. This was so much more than I ever imagined! I was excited, relieved, happy, and prouder than I know how to describe when I walked out on stage each time. When I was leaving the building after it was over the first thing I did was get on the phone, call my trainer and tell him how it had all gone down. He was thrilled, and said I should eat whatever I want that night because the next day it’s back in the saddle for a much bigger contest coming up a week later, the Cape Cod Naturals. I took advantage of it – a nice big cheeseburger and fries, and I think some chocolate chip cookies.

Despite having done so well in Maine, I went into the Cape show with no real expectations, just intending to compete hard, “leave it all on stage,” and enjoy the day. Having done Maine a week earlier took the edge off for the Cape, and I was a little more relaxed even though I knew the competition would be as tough or tougher than Maine. As it ended up I DID enjoy that day, tremendously, and I didn’t just place at the show…I got three trips onto the awards dias. I could write plenty about that day but I’ll just say I can’t explain what it felt like to walk out and step up onto that platform, have James Carron shake my hand and place a trophy in front of me, then stand with the other guys to be acknowledged by the audience. Once would have been tremendous in a show like that, let alone three times. It all happened a little too fast; I wish I could have slowed those moments down a little to really soak it in.

Five months earlier, I had attended my first bodybuilding competition: the OCB’s Spirit of America, promoted by an icon of natural bodybuilding, Sean “Sully” Sullivan. I came away from that show knowing in the pit of my gut I wanted a piece of that, I wanted to compete. I had been training for the previous couple of years, and I had started thinking about it. I figured it would be at least 2008 before I could reach any sort of competition caliber but thanks to some very positive input from some friends who were already part of the sport, I realized one’s “best” is a constantly evolving thing and I decided not to wait. I found an outstanding trainer to guide me and I went for it. I worked harder in the period of that first contest prep than I ever had on anything else in my life, and it all paid off in spades. I could not have asked for a better first season.
Results from my first two shows are recorded here:

http://www.theocbwebsite.com/Results/Resul...B20070929ME.htm (Maine Event 2007) and here http://www.theocbwebsite.com/Results/Resul...B20071006MA.htm (Cape Cod Naturals 2007).