They may be "hot" on the outside but take a look at what it is like to date one of these sick trainwrecks bi-polar schizophrenics.
Touted by many as the most accurate portrait of a Figure competitor in the NPC/IFBB.
A Day In The Life of a NPC Figure Competitor...
1:03am: Wake up in a cold sweat from a wretched nightmare of being held captive in a Turkish prison being forced-fed copious amounts of cake, pastries and Smores. Put on running shoes and go outside. Run 8 laps around your block " just in case " dreams really do come true.
3:15am: (Witching Hour) Wake up again at the exact time of day that the fabric between the living and the dead is at it's thinnest. Go into the kitchen and swallow 3 tablespoons of Sugar Free grape jelly and 3 tennis ball sized globs of peanutbutter. Nix the bread to " avoid the carbs ". Rationalize what you just did by recognizing the mystical time of day and blame The Devil for tempting you since the flesh is weak. Pop 2 Benedryl tablets. Go back to bed.
5:27am: Wake up again to pee. Remind yourself to Google why asparagus makes urine smell so sour. Weigh yourself. 124.4lbs. Up 1lb from last week this time. Consider suicide as a valid option. Seriously. Pop 3 Somalyze and another Benedryl tablet. Go back to bed.
8:30am: Wake up to start your day. Carefully crawl out of bed to not wake your unemployed bodybuilder boyfriend as he needs his growth hormone releasing recovery sleep and shouldn't be disturbed. Stand naked in front of your mirror and see the reflection of a grusome morbidly obese bariatric patient. Whisper to yourself over & over again... " Shallow Hal, Wants a Gal. " " Shallow Hal, Wants a Gal. "
8:37am: Pop 25mg of VasoPro and 3 Lipo 6-Black Hers capsules. Log online and check your e-mail to see what your overpaid nutritionist prescribed for breakfast this day. 4 egg whites and 1/4 cup of oatmeal. Shocking! Scan your e-mail and wonder why every single supplement company in the Northern Hemisphere isn't beating your door down to sponsor you since, like, you're The Next Big Thing. Right?
9:22am: Head to local gym for cardio. Cake on your Mac makeup at every Stop sign and red light. Perform 45 minutes on the Precor fantasizing how awesome you're going to look at your show in 4 weeks with your EX boyfriend in the audience eating his heart out. Mmm. A human heart. Wonder what a human heart would taste like Foreman grilled with some salt-free Mrs Dash Fiesta Lime seasoning or with peanutbutter spread.
10:35am: Head home to get ready for work. Shower with the lights off to avoid possibly catching a glimpse of your lard ass. Use your man's Schick Quatro razor since you know the bastard constantly uses your Venus.
11:04am: Drive to work. Sing Lady Gaga's BAD ROMANCE to the top of your lungs as you think about your EX. Text your BFF about how life sucks when you are dieting. Text your slumbering bodybuilder boyfriend that you left him a dub on the kitchen counter. Remind him again via text to put gas in your car next time he takes it. Pop 20mcg of clenbuterol.
12:15pm: Train your day's first client. Stand behind your middle aged soccer mom counting reps as she does her lat-pulldowns wrong. Look closely at her body and wonder if her husband even bothers touching her anymore. Bet to yourself that she has poor female hygeine. Wish that she was dead for being so " ordinary ". Bet to yourself that she wishes she was you. Assure yourself that you can take her husband if you wanted.
1:05pm: Walk into the employee's lounge and notice that a malisciously evil fucking bitch co-worker of yours brought in a box of powdered Munchkins and dozen Double Chocolate Delight donuts. Feel your tear ducts swelling and a lump form in your throat as you plan her accidental death in the theater of your mind. Wonder why all your co-workers hate you so much and are so jealous of you. Quickly swipe 5 powdered Munchinks and 2 Double Chocolate Delight donuts and relentlessly jam them down your throat. Justify what you just did by reminding yourself that it didn't count anyway because your co-worker is a fugly slut. Lie to yourself and say that you'll be sure to " do an extra 20min of cardio " later.
2:26pm: Find yourself spooning the toilet in the handicapped stall as you try to touch your epiglottis with your middle finger. There it is! Notice the large chunks of undigested powdered Munchkins and pieces of Double Chocolate Delight donuts swirling around the toilet bowel. Justify what you did by telling yourself that Ms. Bitch didn't beat you and sabatoage your prep. This time. Check out your abs in the bathroom mirror. Remind yourself to remove those glass jars and containers hiding in your closet. Pop a Tic Tac and 20mcg of clenbuterol.
3:12pm: Pop 3 more Lipo-6 Black Hers capsules and take 5mg of glutamine. Train Legs starting with Sumo Squats holding a 40lb dumbbell. Lie to yourself by believeing that this is the magic exercise that will make your legs look like Heather Mae French's. Try your best to look serious as your mind is more concerned about your EX's Facebook status and holding that fart you feel building that's about to sneak it's way out of your ass.
4:01pm: Mix your 2 scoops of Lean Dessert in your ' Tight Curves ' shaker cup. Slug it down. Check your EX's Facebook status on your Droid phone. Wonder why your man at home hasn't text'd you yet. Wonder if he notices that you fart when during the night as you sleep. Maybe that's it...
6:38pm: Pop another 20mcg of clenbuterol just before your 45 minutes of Stair Mill. Sweat like a stinkin' Irish pig and wonder if the cramps you feel in your abdominal region is from your little " anti-weight gain " secret or your period. Wonder why you even still get a period as you recall that article with Jennifer Gates saying she loses it as her bodyfat plummets right around 8 weeks prior to a show. Hit the panick button as this may mean you aren't lean enough. Remind yourself NOT to wear your seatbelt on the way home and to drive over the speed limit.
7:30pm: Head home unbuckled driving 20mph over the speed limit. Wonder if anybody would care if you died tonight. Envision who would and wouldn't come to your wake. Stop at LA Tan. Think about that scene in Final Destination with the tanning bed. Pray that happens to you tonight.
8:04pm: Commute home. Recieve a text message from your boyfriend ' hey baby w a client hope u had good day see u l8er ;p ' .
8:20pm: Log online. Check your EX boyfriend's Facebook status. Pull a clump of hair out of your scalp as you notice he is with " that slut who beat you at the Continental last year ". Run into the kitchen and swallow 2 baseball sized globs of peanutbutter. Throw yourself onto the kitchen floor combatively swinging your arms and your legs. Lay there in a catatonic state for 10 minutes.
8:38pm: Pick yourself up and pop another 20mcg of clenbuterol and 10mg of xanax. Log back online and check your e-mail. Read... 'A Day In The Life of a NPC Figure Competitor '. Smash your head against your keyboard and toss your laptop across the living room. Grab a kitchen knife, your cell phone and the bottle of Hershey's Sugar Free chocolate syrup and lock yourself in the bathroom.
9:44pm: Come out of the kitchen as your boyfriend comes back from his very busy workday as a full-time bodybuilder. Ignore his inquiries on why you have chocolate stains all over your face and why your eyes are so swollen. Accuse him of telling everybody details about your life so people can write that shit about you. Tell him how the whole world is out to sabotage your prep.
10:10pm: Argue with your boyfriend about not wanting to watch '' King of Queens. '' Tell him again that you don't think Kevin James is at all funny because he is FAT and should be on a fucking diet! Agree that Deacon looks a little like Tre from FemFlex. Pop 5mg of anavar, 20mcg of clenbuterol and 50mg of Benedryl.
10:18pm: Go into the bathroom and lock the door. Turn the faucet on and pray your boyfriend doesn't have to use the bathroom after you as you drop it like it's hot. Debate wether or not spraying Glade will make it obvious that you are shitting or if you should leave no evidence of your fecal escipades. Wonder if he assumes you are defecating right now. Wonder if he even knows your defecation rituals. Wonder if that is why he hasn't tried to get fresh with you in almost 3 weeks. Make mental note to purposely blow every red light on the way to work tomorrow while closing your eyes.
10:33pm: Lay in bed and think to yourself how much you despise your boyfriend as he sings along to the theme of 2 & Half Men. Turn over and tell him you will give him that $150 for those t3 tabs in the morning. Tell him how urgently you need them as you can physically feel yourself getting fatter by the minute. Drift off to sleep wondering if Gina Aliotti would remember you and if she would want to be BFF's with you if you moved to San Diego. Remind yourself to Google why asparagus makes urine smell so sour. Dream a Little Dream...
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