by Kris Pitcher
I'm at the end of my rope. What I mean by that is my pants are falling down. The very same pants that one month ago...did not fit. Said pants two months from now, also will not fit. But that's not the point.
The point is, my belt is at the end of it's rungs and nothing. Falling down. All I can do is extend my belly to try to fill up the space - and still I'm in danger of losing these girls!
A gallon of water, a full bladder...and still in danger. So, here I am closing in on my contest holding my pants up with one hand. The other day I put a top on that ties in the back. As I brought the ties behind me, I just kept on going back around in front and tied it there.
I am a changed woman. Walking around in bags of clothes sort of makes me feel like maybe I haven't changed. Yet buying smaller and smaller clothes doesn't work either. This year, my rear is more muscular and to tell you the truth many of my smaller sizes just didn't fit.
I'm not the "right" shape for those. So, counting down the days to September 22nd with my skirts cinched in, and pants held up as best I can, with tops like tents...I can hardly wait for my posing suit to arrive. Something that actually will fit me!
With all this I am reminded that this body is but a short lived one to inhabit. After my show I will begin to fill things back out again. It's the ebb and flow of the competitor's physique. My rope will begin to be let out ever so slowly as I make my gains.
A very short time of sloshing around in these clothes for me. Then I'll show you all the hard work with some photos! In the mean time...I've got one hand on my waistband!
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