At 49, I Began Training For A Bikini Contest. 1 Part Of My Transformation Shocked Me Most.

It all began when I became obsessed with a photo I saw on the Facebook page of a writer I knew. She was backstage at a bikini competition in heels and a sparkly bikini, and she held a trophy high overhead. Part of me thought she looked ridiculous with her silver eyeshadow and her deep spray tan, but her smile told a story of strength and accomplishment. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt strong or accomplished.

I was almost 50, had been parenting for 22 years straight, and was in the muddy middle of trying to write a memoir about my decade in Japan’s underbelly. My day job was running children’s yoga and nutrition classes, where not only did I teach my girls and my students downward dog, boat pose and the importance of healthy eating, I also taught nonjudgment and unconditional self-acceptance.

Bikini competitions do not fall within these parameters. Parading around on stage in a tiny swimsuit for a panel of judges went against my morals. So why was I so taken by the idea of possibly competing?

My friends were as befuddled as I was. Why not just work out? they asked. Why demean yourself in a bikini competition? I told them I needed the discipline of a trainer to tell me how and when to exercise, and a deadline that I couldn’t wiggle out of. I needed skin in the game. Someone who wouldn’t let me quit.

Some people thought I was having a midlife crisis. I wondered about this myself. Maybe something in my brain was misfiring because I don’t have one competitive bone in my body. Some accused me of setting unrealistic body expectations for my girls, who were 11 and 21 at the time, so I sat down with my daughters and explained it wasn’t about dieting or losing weight per se, it was about their mother completing a hard