The Final Stage: A Reflection on My First Men’s Physique Competition
I did it.
On March 8th, I stepped on stage in San Diego for my very first NPC Men’s Physique competition—and I walked away with first place in both my True Novice and Open classes.
But truthfully, this journey wasn’t about the trophy.
It was about seeing if I could do something I wasn’t sure I was capable of.
It was about the discipline. The structure. The discomfort. The why the fuck not?
The Lead-Up to Show Day
The final week of prep was brutal. I was still recovering from norovirus, my stomach a wreck while I tried to carb-load and dial in my physique. The week before peak week, I weighed in at 178 lbs. When I got back from Spain, after traveling, getting sick, and dealing with dehydration, I stepped on the scale at 171 lbs—a huge drop, mostly due to water loss.
Show Day: Calm Before the Stage
I thought I’d be nervous. Weeks of anticipation made me think I’d be filled with anxiety the morning of. But I woke up calm. I slept well the night before, and when I opened my eyes that morning, I just kept telling myself:
“You put in the work. You’re ready. Now go enjoy it.”
Pre-judging started at 9AM. The backstage area was chaotic but simple—a tanning booth, no weights or bands, very little space. We were crammed into a room with no chairs, waiting for our numbers to be called. Not exactly glamorous.
Stepping on Stage
Walking onto the stage was surreal. The pre-judging round was quick, with only a handful of competitors per class. The setup was impressive—bright lights, a big stage—but backstage? Not so much. No weights, no bands, nowhere to sit.Just a cramped waiting area and a tanning booth.
Still, when I stepped on stage, I felt composed. My routine felt natural. I hit the poses the way I had practiced hundreds of times. The lights were blinding, but I smiled. I knew I was doing what I came there to do.
After the Stage: Relief & Unexpected Feelings
When it was over, I felt relief more than anything else.
Not an adrenaline high. Not overwhelming joy. Just… done.
I had accomplished what I set out to do. I was proud. But I was also underwhelmed.
That’s when I realized something important:
This whole thing was never about the show.
It was about the process. About the person I became over those 15 weeks of prep. The day of the show was just the exhale.
The Real Transformation
What I didn’t talk about much during prep was where I was before all of this.
Before starting prep, I was at one of the lowest points of my life mentally and emotionally. I was drinking a lot, feeling completely lost in my identity, trying to reconcile who I used to be with who I am today.
From the outside, my life looked incredible—living in beautiful international places for 30 days at a time, hiking in the middle of the workday, paragliding, snowboarding, doing things people dream of all the time. But inside? I felt empty.
I realized that for years, I had been floating—repeating the same years over and over. It didn’t matter how wild or exciting my experiences were. I had lost the childlike curiosity that once fueled me.
Through this process, I found it again.
Not in bodybuilding, necessarily—but in writing, things like this newsletter. In building my app. In learning and reading. In doing something that challenged me in a completely different way.
And that’s what this was really about. Not about winning. Not even really about competing. But about proving to myself that I could commit to something that required complete discipline and focus—and actually follow through.
What This Taught Me
This experience showed me I have way more control over myself than I used to believe.
Before prep, I had never gone more than two weeks without drinking. I used to wonder if I was actually in control of my habits. Was I the one making choices—or was I just following impulses?
Prep forced me to answer that.
I showed up for cardio, for training, for posing practice, every single day. I learned about my body, my mind, and how powerful consistency really is.
And yeah—I always thought doing a bodybuilding competition was kind of weird. I thought people would judge me for it. But the truth?
People were proud. People were inspired.
Not because of the bodybuilding.
Because I followed through on something that most people never will.
Biggest Takeaway? Do the Things You’re Not Sure You Can Do.
Most people never do the things they’re curious about. They think about them, they talk about them, but they never actually take the leap.
Why? Because it’s easier to stay comfortable.
I did this competition because I didn’t know if I could. And now? I know I can.
Not just bodybuilding. But anything. Because discipline in one area bleeds into everything else.
Would I Do It Again?
Probably not. This was about a personal journey of trying to improve my life and find myself again—to leave the ‘sport’ of bodybuilding on a high note and do something I always contemplated doing.
Now that I've done it, I don’t have the same desire. But it’s pushed me to think about this in other areas of my life. Like how I’ve always wanted to create a product of my own, create or be part of a motorsports team. Hell, I wanted to be an architect for most of my life.
And you know—the challenge doesn’t have to be physical. I’m excited to adventure after some of those things and live what I like to call another life.
If there’s something you’ve been thinking about doing—something that scares you, something that feels just a little out of reach—do it.
Because what the fuck else are you spending your time doing?
Many people live the same year, year after year, until time just passes them by. That weird, random thing you’ve always thought about doing? Do it.
Maybe it’ll suck. Maybe it’ll be amazing. Either way, it’ll be better than never knowing.
And that’s the whole point.
Go out there and be a fucking pig farmer for a summer, work on a winery, go and be an English teacher in another country you’ve always dreamt of living in.
Final Thoughts
I’m incredibly grateful for this experience, for everyone who followed along, supported me, and kept me accountable. Thank you.
Now? Onto the next challenge.
– Pastor Quest
