A Bodybuilding Back Routine Day

May 14, 2007 – Its competition time! Get ready for a killer back routine day in the life of a pre-contest bodybuilder.

A tale of stacks and carbs – Two weeks out from competition:

4:30AM-Kick-in-the-chest! I rip the covers off and swing my arm over to turn off the fan that has been sucking the moisture out of my brain all night. There’s got to be an alarm tone that won’t induce a mild heart attack every morning. It takes a minute of clutching my chest to make sure my heart doesn’t make a run for it. I can never figure out if I am going to sleep in a pool of sweat or have cold chills all night, I usually know half way through the night if I have to flip my soaked pillow. It has become an adventure to make it to the bathroom with my eyes glued shut from dehydration.

In truth I cant wait to wake up because between the crazy dreams from the stack and my growling stomach. Wake up time is an end to the 360 flips I do all night. I get to have breakfast. The thought of three shredded wheat biscuits and 4.6 oz of chicken is a touch of heaven in this cruel land of depletion. I just need to make it through morning cardio first. That means a stack to get rid of the jitters and a liter of water to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth. I enjoy feeling full for about ten minutes after breakfast, and waiting another two and half-hours to calm the gremlins again.

I can tell this is going to be one of those days where I get to spend 45 minutes of treadmill time watching leg press lockouts and coffee pot seminars at the water fountain. Wow, these people really enjoy their social outings. Shmucks.

Isn’t this special? I hope someone decides to do stretches on the back hyper machine again, just so I cant bring in my lower back in time for the contest. Nice, now that Mr.Buttercup in the corner is all loosened up on the back hyper, I can warm-up myself.

9:00 finishes off my first client of the day and now its home to eat and take a nap before I phone Jay “the freak” Riddell to make sure we are still on for back today. He’s six weeks out from provincials and we’re pushing hard. The phone call confirms it, 11:30, parking lot of Mac’s by the L.R.T. in downtown Calgary. Sounds like the callout for S.W.A.T. Time to drop my second stack of the day and put a liter of distilled water down range.

Doesn’t seem to matter how much of this stuff I drink, it feels like I got sand in my eyes every time I blink. The training pace has picked up so much that we don’t have time to grab water any more. It’s almost tempting to lick the sweat off the bench so I can swallow.

“Hey Ray”, huh? There’s that little evil voice again. Keeps saying I need extra carbs today because I’m looking flat. I hate that guy. Every time I start to lean out this voice decides to put up residence in my head. He gets really loud and annoying about 11:00 at night when I want to sleep. Usually something like, “Don’t you need an extra ounce of beef with those veggies so you don’t go catabolic during sleep?” Like I said: I hate that guy.

Heading down town now to get Jay, that is if this creeping pedestrian will ever get his sluggish, overweight butt off the cross walk. Bet you he enjoys his donut every morning, just two more weeks Ray and I get all the treats I want. I think the diet is kicking in nice now; I sit at stop signs, not just lights, waiting for them to turn green, hmmmm. Every day of crankiness is another percentage of body fat though, so it’s worth it. There’s Jay now. This is hilarious; I don’t think he even knows where he is. He looks like a drunk trying to act sober. Better honk the horn or he will walk right by. Braaaaamp! Yeah! ” Hey there! Good morning sunshine!” Life is always much more fun when someone is suffering as much as you are.

I guess all us meatheads are all a little jaded and off some way. Misery loves company. I should be pumping up mentally for the workout, but all I can think about is the half a deck of tomato and basil rice cakes I get after back. My “bad” for the day. Jay jumps (well more of a climb, crawl combo) into the truck. We exchange a couple grunts and other one syllable greetings and we’re off to do some damage.

To keep Reading Look For Part 2 Under The Same Title.