Ana Miranda Draft 1

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I took this picture at my first fitness competition. It was the first time I had started and finished something so challenging, and I was proud as hell of it; but what I didn’t expect, was the roller coaster of emotions that happens after an event like this.
Human beings have always fascinated me. I remember being about 12 years old and trying to figure out why people would act the way they would, not in a judgemental way – which most of us can be at that age, but rather in a curious way. Finally, in my 20’s, a whole new “kind” of human was under my curiosity radar: bodybuilders. I was set to understand why, aside from physical appearance, they would put their minds and bodies through so much. In my mind, there had to be something else.
People get into fitness for many different reasons, and I’ve heard a few stories myself since diving into this world – because they wanna be healthier, to look good for themselves, to look good for others, to challenge themselves, to find themselves, to create a new self and the most prominent amongst them: to look good on Instagram! #fitspo
Being a bartender, after high school, most of my social life was experienced at bars and restaurants, but after a few years of doing the same thing every day with no goals ahead, I started feeling a lack of purpose in my life. I didn’t know what career to pursue at the time, so I started exploring other things that didn’t involve college, that perhaps would interest me. The year before I decided to compete, a co-worker I used to bartend with had won the biggest title in bodybuilding: The Olympia! And I remember thinking to myself: – Am I capable of doing something like this? Should I ask her for advice?
By the time the decision to become a bodybuilding competitor was made, I was familiar with some words and terms;  post-show blues, possible disordered eating, amenorrhea in women due to extreme dieting, carb cycling, water depletion etc…
After months of research, I set my mind to it and joined a team, and everything that seemed otherwise ordinary in my life had changed. For twelve weeks, I went from someone who enjoyed going to the gym as a hobby a few times a week, to a “gym rat” as they called people who spend too much time in the gym. I trained six days per week, three hours sessions each day: one session in the morning and one in the afternoon and every Sunday I spent prepping my meals for the week, precisely measured with a food scale which was non-negotiable by my coach, and oh and how could I forget the entire gallon of water I had to drink every day, and carried that ginormous thing everywhere!
I was becoming a new person, and change is not always welcome if it affects how others interact with you. So eventually, many friends stopped calling me to go out and eat or have drinks, since I would always say no. I missed out on a few family celebrations because I didn’t want to be around food I wasn’t allowed to have so I became very isolated.
Show day happened, I placed well, but the post-show blues – which I didn’t believe would happen to me – got me, and it made me depressed for months. Welcome to the dark side of the fitness world.