Muscle Girl - The Story (or, Mills and Boon with weights)

Hello fellow Muscletalkers
 
What follows here will be the story of year as a female competitor, retrospective, the reason being simply to share. A glimpse in the life of , as it were.
 
I'll tell the story in chapters as it's quite long.  
 
Any resemblance to real life persons is of course coincidental...except for me of course :-)
 
Feel free to have a nose into the life of a Muscle Girl

  July

I looked up at the girl on the stage, flexing, posing, cartwheeling. She was a perfectly muscled combination of femininity and strength, the divisions in her quads visible as she elegantly slipped into a front pose. I looked on with a growing sense of excitement. I want to be that girl, I said. I can do that.


September

What am I doing? I asked myself, what the hell am I doing driving up to SANDYFORD? Sandyford of all places, to see somebody who will give yet another opinion of 'what i want to do....' to get contest ready.

Since I had stated my intentions to compete, it seemed the whole world and his dog knew how I should be training, eating, sleeping, what I should be taking. The internet forum that had connected me to the world of bodybuilding in the first place, now only served to confuse me as I tried to set a concrete goal. So I had looked up some guy, given him a call, and before I knew it I was on a 4 hour round journey to meet with him. Because, he said, he was the Expert. He made champions. From my photos he thought I had potential. I wasnt really too sure if another opinion was what i needed but the guy had given me a very charismatic sales pitch and before I knew it I had i had agreed to meet up.

Welcome to MT. If this is a pitch for someone who preps then please contact James for advert fees. If this is purely and simply a life story then please continue, though a journal might be better.....in which case I can move this to the relevant forum for you.

spoken to James Kitty ;-) simply a  story

This has been cleared by me.  It will be an interesting story and will make for good reading.

All sorted ....looking forward to reading the story

“Ah, Figure Girl. You must be Kate”. The broad, dark figure of Dave Barker strode across the room. No doubt about it, he had a presence and as we shook hands our eyes caught each others with more than a little spark. Bonus! I thought. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.
I became more convinced as our session went on. Dave ran through my entire history of nutrition and training, where I was at, where I needed to be, He showed me pictures of his clients, his champions, what he had done with them – I realised this was someone who really knew his stuff. I knew this meeting could shape my future. I had found my my man. He told me I was in great shape, in fact I could almost go on stage in the condition i was in now. But, he said, with his help, I would go on stage in 6 months time and blow the competition away. I could be a star, he said, , and he was the man to make that star shine.
 

“You start dieting in January” he said. “We diet you for 12 weeks. First, we need you to bulk up , get some more muscle on you. Delts, hamstrings. We need to get you eating more. Forget about losing fat. Here's what you need to be eating. Here are the supplements you need to be taking. You need the best. Get rid of this crap you have , he said waving at my bag of whey, vitamins, and other bits and pieces. You need the best to be the best. Do as I say and you'll be a winner. Here's your diet. Here's your training programme,  Trust me.”

awwww.......more pleeeeeeease!!!!!

When I came to leave Dave gave me a big hug and kissed me on the cheek. “I get very protective of my girls” he said. A thought crept into my mind that the hug was a little familiar for someone I had just met, but I was on such a high, it just added to my sense of being taken care of. I drove back home with my head buzzing with all the information he had given me and with dreams of standing on that winners podium…..brought back to reality by the bleep of my phone. A message from Dave. ‘YOU’RE GONNA BE A STAR! XXX 
 
The next day I got to work on my new training schedule and diet. Shoulders would be getting more emphasis. Smaller muscle groups would be trained fresh instead of as an after thought. Dave picked up on my good points and devised a schedule to emphasize them, exaggerating the X shape I had already begun to develop. He doubled up my calf workouts to remedy the weakness I had there. He emphasized the importance of stretching to keep myself supple and injury free. I had 3 months to pack on as much muscle as I could , so I dutifully ate the increased carbs prescribed, and went to each workout like a tiger 
 

Two weeks later I returned to Dave. He was impressed with how much I had improved already. ‘Much fuller’ he said. ‘Adding in more carbs has worked wonders. “Didn’t I tell you I was always right? Keep at it”  he told me. “You can see me as often as you need, call whenever you want.” My heart soared. I had never felt so secure in what I was doing. It was a tremendous sense of relief to have someone to trust, to take away the endless worrying of ‘should I do this? Should I do that?’ - somebody to take me out of the minefield of conflicting information.
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And Dave was in touch, constantly. Our emails became slightly, then very flirtatious. A few weeks had passed when he said he was going to be in London and he would like to see me, out of the gym. I agreed.
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But of course that sensible side of me was nagging not  to get carried away. He had become very full on. How did I know he wasn’t like this with all his clients? I mentioned his interest to Mark, a guy I sometimes trained with at the leisure centre.. ‘He thinks you can be British champion’ Mark said in disbelief. “Are you sure he isn’t just saying that to et in your knickers?”
 ‘No! I protested. ‘He has a reputation to uphold!! He wouldn’t let me compete if he didn’t think I could do it!’
“Yeah , sure!” laughed Mark ‘You know what personal trainers are like.’

I had to admit there was doubt in my mind. Don’t go rushing in, I told myself. How many mistakes had I made before, how many times had I already been hurt by some smooth talking charmer?  The need to be desired, admired…the driving force behind my quest for a perfect body,  is a double edged sword for a girl who really only wants to be loved.
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So I sought reassurance from Dave. He laughed. ‘I wouldn’t have any clients left if I slept with them all!’ he said. He looked at me with his dark eyes. “There is something I should tell you though. I have been kind of seeing a girl I was helping out.’
My heart sank. I knew it.
‘Wait he said. ‘Theres nothing in it, really. I just need to break it to her. I promise I will.’ ‘Trust me’ he said. I looked back. ‘I trust you’ I said, and we kissed.

  November
I felt so alive. My strength was up, my diet was going to plan, I had the countries top trainer and whats more- he was MY boyfriend!

Not everyone seemed to share my joy though. I had noticed peoples attitudes changing towards me as I became increasingly serious about my training.
In the gym, the disapproval was evident.
‘Are you using this?’ a wannabe gangster asked as I rested between squats.
‘Yeah’ I said
‘Yeah right!’ he laughed. With that weight?
‘Uh, actually , yes’ I said and went back to my next set.
He gazed at the bar in disbelief then sneered ‘Girl, you getting too strong’
‘I don’t think so’ I said, as I struggled to concentrate on the reps
‘Well I do. You’re starting to look like a man’

I had to admit I felt a little smug. What had begun as a quest to be desired had somewhere along the line shifted focus. I wanted to show people I wasn’t just a girl, weak. I didn’t need help. I was self sufficient and I wanted my body to shout it out. My new body was beginning to alienate those who didn’t think women should be strong, in mind or body. But it appealed even more strongly to those who lived like me. I was becoming niche. I was eliminating unwanted sexual interest from those who sought to overpower me, and I was pleased to disgust them.

  I moved away to the benches, away from Gangsta boy. Dumbell pressing was my favourite exercise, and I intended to make the most of it. I set the bench to an incline, closed my hands around the cold cast iron dumbbells, and settled into my warm up. 10kgs, 15, 20. I felt my chest pump with blood, the adrenalin surging through me. I was going for the 25’s. I hoisted them up onto my knees and with a mighty heave summoned up all my strength to raise the weight above my head, arms shaking, the total almost my own bodyweight.

Suddenly I was aware of Gangsta boy leaning over me. ‘Oh yeah’ he leered. ‘You’re getting too strong man’ He kissed his teeth.

My concentration went, the dumbbells crashed to the floor. I was fuming. ‘Do you mind NOT talking to me when I’m in the middle of trying to lift what is, obviously, a heavy weight for me?’ I seethed.

He sucked in his breath ‘ Man whats your problem? You got a bad attitude man. ‘

Bad attitude? I was amazed. The number one rule of gym etiquette, you don’t interrupt someone in the middle of a set. Everyone knows that! Well any bodybuilder would. ‘My PROBLEM’ I shouted. ‘is that YOU are getting in my space, making your snide comments. Ive come here to train, let me get on with it!’

Gangsta responded furiously ‘F*** OFF’ he yelled ‘get out of here! You got a bad attitude man!’

That was it. I’d outgrown the leisure centre and its small mindedness. It was time for me to go hardcore!

I’d heard about a more serious gym in town so I gave them a calll.
 
"Hello, I was after a little more information on your gym facilities"
 
‘Certainly madam’, the lady said, ‘We have a ladies only gym and a separate cardio suite , sauna....'
 
I stopped her in her tracks. ‘Free weights’, I said, ‘Have you got a good selection of free weights, squat rack , that kind of thing’
 
‘Uh yes,’ the lady said, a little flustered, ‘Well, what you can't find in the ladies gym you will be able to find in the men’s gym.
 
Ok, there was a men’s gym, that sounded more like it, I decided to give it a go.
 
I walked into the reception a couple of days later.
“ I've just come in to try out the gym” I said . The woman at the desk looked at me and I saw a smile spread over her face.
“OOOhhh,” she said, “The boys are going to love YOU! We don't get many ladies that really work out. I mean, I try, but I'm not like you. How long have you been training? You'll want the free weights, they're through there, OH! We don't get many ladies that train in the mens gym!”
 
A man walked past and she called out to him "Hey this lady is going to be using the MENS gym , don’t scare her off will you!' I laughed politely rather bemused. Scared off? I knew who was more likely to be intimidated and it certainly wasn't me!

 i,m enjoying this story .nice one

stevenb


 i,m enjoying this story .nice one

Indeed, if not a little creepy!

Me to can't wait to read more!!!!

I walked into the gym . At 10 in the morning it had only just opened but there were half a dozen men in there getting into their workouts, but I heard the gym fall silent as I went in. I set my bag down and nodded a few hellos. Then the usual comments and questions  ‘Where were you training before? We don’t get many girls that lift round here. Do you do competitions?' They were fascinated. It was a good sign, I supposed. You know a decent gym by  whether or not the guys hide away from muscle girls, and look at them with some intrepidation, or if they leap on them keen to know more about who I am, what I’m training for, my goals…or then again maybe its all the same men are men and they want to get in your knickers, but if they have an appreciation of a muscle girl they're ok by me.
 

  Before too long I had acquired a training partner, Tim. Tim had a slightly thuggish look about him, with his huge chest, vest and skinhead, but when he spoke he radiated an unassuming gentle, almost innocent air, his eyes wide behind his spectacles. I felt safe with him. “Could you just pretend to be my girlfriend?” he said one time, and I laughed, bless him I thought.

Over just a couple of weeks, Tim and I had clicked like old friends. I don't know why I attached myself to him like I did, there was just something so genuine about him.  I knew that even with his attraction for me, I was safe with Tim.  One night after training I went back to his house and we chatted awhile over cups of tea and whey shakes . When it got late I jumped up. ‘Time for me to go home!’ I said. ‘I need my GROWING time!’
“Aww- you're leaving me?” he said.
“ Yeah, I got to go”. I gave him a kiss and went. I smiled to myself. It was nice to hold the power. Especially with the way Dave was treating me.
 
Yeah, Dave. Within weeks of me going against my gut instinct to keep a professional distance, he had suddenly gone from overly attentive, texting several times a day, to nothing.  So I had texted him for once. He didn’t even respond. The next morning I got a text saying 'Gone away for the weekend to get away from it all.’  Concerned, I rang his number to ask if everything was ok with him -what had happened - but the dial tone was abroad . So I settled for a text- 'R U ok?"
 
A few days later I got a call and it was Dave, but why was he shouting? “How dare you call me” he yelled, “How dare you when I’m trying to get a moments peace?”
 
I was shocked into silence. This was a side of Dave I hadn’t seen before, and nor had I seen it coming.