Originally written in July 2018 on Pinoy Fit Buddy, right after my first bodybuilding competition. Lightly edited. Everything I learned on that stage still shapes how I coach today.
I’m finally back to writing after a grueling but fun experience: competing for the first time, and not in a local show but at the Nationals!
This decision was fueled by wanting to beat my old self. In 2016 I was diagnosed with anemia and esophageal diverticula, and my weight dropped to 111 pounds. Then in late 2017, Bell’s palsy paralyzed the right side of my face. I even performed on I Can See Your Voice with a stiff face. During that show I said I was planning to join a bodybuilding competition, and that is where all of this began.
Preparation
I started prepping three to four months out, aiming for the Laboracay Championships on May 1. Then Boracay was closed, and I had to find another show. That is when I found PCBF Mr. Philippines.
That extended my prep by another two months: around five months of no fast food and no junk. I was dying for a longganisa burger, and it got postponed again. It was tough, but I knew it would be worth it.
For a long time, I had reasons not to compete at a big show: the ambiguous judging in men’s physique, the posing, the fact that legs are not judged (and legs are probably my genetic gift), the ever-growing size of the athletes I followed on Instagram, and the politics. But the real reason was fear of failing. That fear had held me back in relationships, jobs and school. If I never gave something my all, I always had an excuse when it did not work out.
Coach Anton Chua from Gold’s Gym Twin Oaks, my home gym, saw how eager I was and took a chance on me. I even resigned from my digital marketing job so I could commit to training five times a week and tracking my macros properly. I watched competitions like WNBF and NBFA to understand how shows work. I knew how to sing on stage, not how to pose on one, topless!
Lessons Learned
Prep-wise, I still had a long way to go.
- The night before, I was at SM Mall of Asia with my best friend, cramming. The 32-inch board shorts I had bought in February no longer fit my 28.5-inch waist, and no alteration shop would do a rush job.
- I was still doing food prep at 10 p.m., about 12 hours before prejudging.
- At registration I did not know I could get an initial tan, and I showed up in neon underwear and rough jeans.
But once that first spray tan went on (my first ever, not even for summer), you look and feel like a different person. It felt really good.
At registration, I tried to stay focused, but I could not help reading the faces around me: focused, excited, anxious, proud, scared, confident, lost, hopeful. A rollercoaster of emotions in one room.
Competition Day
Show day felt surreal. I kept telling myself: make it count, Jeff, first time ‘to, kaya mo ‘yan!
Being judged purely on how my body looked, not on a proposal, a pitch or my brain, was a new feeling. In marketing, I could nail a presentation. Here, my physique was the product, and the judges and the crowd would accept or reject it compared to the athletes beside me. I decided I would enjoy whatever happened.
Backstage, one insight hit hard: never compete only for validation or comparison. If you spend your time comparing yourself to everyone else, insecurity will drain whatever confidence you have left. It is your first show. Make it enjoyable and memorable.
What I Struggled With
- My Bell’s palsy. I could not give a full smile because of facial synkinesis, and a confident smile matters a lot in physique judging. While the frontrunners flashed perfect smiles, I kept a mostly serious face.
- Posing. I saw athletes with builds like mine stand out because of powerful poses and sharp quarter turns. I needed a lot more practice.
- Classic physique attire. I bought black cycling shorts, only to learn the category required posing trunks. I withdrew from that category at the last minute. Bye, entry fee.
- Nerves and timing. Five minutes before prejudging, I was still in line for my final tan and bronzer. My pump-up and carb-up fell apart and I looked flat at prejudging. Lesson learned: get in line early.
My Overall Experience
It was not easy, and every athlete there had clearly done the work. I left with huge respect for them: months of strict training and dieting, all for about 20 seconds of individual time on stage. Every athlete that day was a winner of the craft.
I am grateful to my coaches, Anton Chua and Joshua Gayta of Gold’s Gym Twin Oaks, who believed in me; to my best friend Marlo, who put up with my prep brain; and to my partner John, who never doubted that I could chase whatever dream I wanted.
What Came Next
Bodybuilding is expensive: food, supplements, registration, tanning, coaching, time and emotions. After the show, I went back to marketing for a while to rebuild my finances. But I knew I would come back to the sport. It was in my blood.
I can live with not being the best. I cannot live without knowing I tried my hardest to become it. And that applies to everything, not just a physique show: you never know what you can do until you drop the excuses and give your full effort.
Why This Still Matters to My Clients
That prep taught me what no textbook could: how hard it is to stay consistent when life gets messy, how much planning matters, and how fear of failure quietly holds people back. Today I coach clients online so they get the structure and support I had to learn the hard way. If you are ready to stop making excuses, start with online coaching with Body by Coach Jeff.
Interested in competing yourself? See upcoming bodybuilding and physique competitions in the Philippines.
