Now That the Olympia is Over, What’s Next for the Competitors?

Let’s say you’re one of the guy who competed in the Olympia and woke up the Sunday morning after the show without the Sandow in your hotel room. Suffice to say, you’re probably not as happy as you could be if the Sandow was rightfully in your possession.

Considering this most recent Olympia, the Monday morning quarterbacking still continues. Some still say the runner up should’ve won or that so-and-so making the podium was a gift or another was lucky just to make the top five. But if you really look at it with all bark stripped off, primal and raw, Ricky Bobby was right: “If you’re not first, you’re last.”

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There’s only one Sandow, one guy is getting it, the rest aren’t. It has nothing to do with rankings or prize money. It has to do with being Mr. Olympia. There are no dollar signs on that position. You’ll spend the prize money—hopefully wisely—but the title is entered with your bones.

In a subjectively won show it’s 100 times worse because there’s an army of critics who’ll denounce what I just said because the hairs the judges are splitting are growing on an atom. It could just as easily go another way, and the very same arguments will ensue. But I’m still right—in any given year there is only one Mr. Olympia.

The history books will have a W printed next to just one name. That’s it—no notes about how close it was, nor how deep the field, or how it was almost the other guy.  All the crying in the world isn’t changing that. What does change—if you’re smart about it—is if you look at your failure as an opportunity. If you do, and I know many who do,  you’re then one step closer to self mastery, and that’s true power. If you walk away thinking you got robbed, top three is still pretty good, it’s all politics you just wasted several months of your life prepping for that show—you have nothing coming. That’s a sad commentary for what’s supposed to be a warrior.

There’s no denying the emotion that comes with not winning, especially considering how close it can be and how easily it could have been you in the middle instead. The real sportsman will do a very good job of hiding it in the subsequent interviews, and wax poetic the strengths of his competition, but you know it’s there, because it would be if it were you. We’re all human. But that is no way an excuse to be coddled for the result. You didn’t win. Now, what do you do with that?

Back to the Drawing Board

The guys I know on the Olympia level—the old school guys anyway—are on a quest for self-mastery that eclipses any other athletic endeavor on earth by an order of magnitude. The reason is simple: Because of the very nature of subjective judging, many Olympians literally live every single day leaving no stone unturned. Their nutrition is dialed in. Their training is the subject matter for books, and pre- and post-training modalities such as chiropractic and massage therapy are normal daily occurrences.

Then there’s the rest: tanning beds, posing practice, choreography, social media, psychological and spiritual guidance, sponsor obligations. The list is a mile long, and it is relentless.

Pro bodybuilding on the Olympia level is a 24/7/365 deal with only very few exceptions. The exceptions being mostly the amount of time they will take off after the show. Some guys start the next day, Ronnie Coleman famously took four months off—today other guys do too. Inevitably, there’s a group who will take a varying amount of time off and a group who will not. Regardless, the group that takes off is only taking off from training. Everything else continues. Because these guys are extraordinarily self-disciplined, the nuts and bolts of their quest are squared away. It’s reflex, it’s how they live. The only thing that changes is what goes on in their brain. And, thankfully, the deleterious part is pretty simple.

The path to self-mastery is littered with the wreckage that was once self-doubt, low self-esteem, lack of disciple, lack of intensity and deviations in the path to excellence. These are intangible factors that have been picked away at for an entire career.  Because that’s where the meat is. All the competitors are going to train hard, do cardio, diet, take gear.

What matters after the show is how you think. It’s how you assess the outcome and make decisions that will shape the next event. I know enough Olympians to know that one thing they all surely have in common is that after the show, they all go back to the drawing board.

Especially Mr. O because he’s the guy with the target on his head. And he’s in the mix with the rest of them – it’s a new season and everyone starts from zero with the same goal—to show up better next year and take home the Sandow.

The Challenge Becomes More Challenging Each Year

And every year that becomes more and more of a challenge, putting Olympia competitors in a very unique group. Not only are the stakes higher, but everyone keeps getting better. Today the competition is tighter than the joints in the rock walls in Machu Pichu and with opinion, rather than quantifiable points determining the winner, those close to the top weren’t defeated, they just didn’t win. There’s a big difference between that and losing, and the best competitors know it.

So, beyond mastering his thought process and his conviction in the aftermath, what’s next for the would be Olympian who decides he’s going for it again next year? Well, they basically fall into two groups— those who are qualified for next year and those who are not. The latter group will have to compete in an Olympia qualifying pro show sometime next year and win it in order to qualify for the Olympia, probably having to maintain top condition for an extended period of time between shows.  While this adds a layer of difficulty the qualified guys don’t have to deal with, the end result is the same – the focus is on winning the Olympia.

Everything else in their lives, and I mean everything—family, friends, associates, social functions—have to fit in around it. Not the other way around. It’s about as robotic an existence known to man. But, somebody has to do it.

And, thankfully, they do.