So, I come back from vacation (yes, there was a little lifting on the boat, although not much, due to an inconveniently pulled neck muscle) to find this link in my mailbox, along with a note:
“I have no idea why I’m even encouraging you to look into this insanity, but…”
It should be mentioned here that the link-sharer is my day-job boss, and partner-in-crime over at ShrinkGeek. I did feel compelled to point out to him that, in the unlikely event that I a) go to the audition and b) were to be selected, he’d kind of be SOL at the office, even if my substantially better half didn’t skin him alive, slowly.
That said, even if I did head over that way, I rate my chances as fairly slim to nonexistent. This stuff aside, I’m not exactly camera-friendly. With the focus of this particular bit of chicanery being on bodybuilding specifically, there are a few other factors that come into play against Yours Truly from a pure judging perspective, independent of the problems a balding thirty-something guy with a foul mouth has with making a stellar impression.
- I’m not tall
- I’m fuzzy
- I’m prominently inked
The height thing can be slightly ameliorated by the fact that competition is based on weight; I could imagine ending up anywhere from 145 to 185 pounds doing something like this. Similarly, the fact that I am one hirsute motherfucker would make the folks at Nair and Veet happy, if they sponsored any of this crap, but, speaking from personal experience, it itches something fierce growing back in.
The unavoidable bit is the ink; anything that big, especially where a lot of muscle definition is looked for, is going to make the judges job harder, and that’s not exactly going to be a mark in one’s favor. I recall some bodybuilding competition I happened to catch while flipping through channels in the late 80’s, and the announcers specifically mentioned the palm-sized family crest one competitor had on his left scapula for this same reason.
Also, as I was saying to a couple of other folks, while I do want to look good as a result of picking up all this heavy crap, the point of the exercise is the ability to pick up the heavy crap in the first place and look good with my shirt off, not develop a bodybuilder’s physique.
Quick, name anyone who’s won Mr. Olympia or Mr. Universe since Conan the Governator did… without Google or Wikipedia.
Yeah, I couldn’t, either.