Strong and Hard Women

by Tanya Bunsell

  in costs, and I could have done none of it and still qualified for the British finals’.

  There is some chatter backstage between the Bodyfitness girls and their mentors, but otherwise the atmosphere is quite subdued. I know that Michelle needs to focus on herself and so I leave her and Jo and return to the show.

  Whilst the competition is a very serious event for bodybuilders, it is also a celebration. The atmosphere, with its music booming out, stuffy air and dimmed lights, is reminiscent of a nightclub. There’s a constant hum of noise and excitement in the air. The majority of people are seated, but there are also some milling around, talking to ‘like-minded’ others, paying for autographs from famous bodybuilders, buying supplements and clothes from the stalls or getting food and drink from the bar. In America, these events are called ‘Meets’ (Lowe 1998) – a place where bodybuilders feel they belong and feel appreciated. It is a unique occasion where bodybuilders can both see and be seen, within an environment that recognizes their bodies as a form of ‘social capital’ (Coleman 1988). In this milieu, female bodybuilders consider themselves to be protected from the hostility of the outside world by the ‘camaraderie’ that exists ‘among all bodybuilders’. This common consciousness is forged through sharing the same collective encounters in their quest for muscle. In addition, the emotional collective experience of the rite coalesces in a ‘collective effervescence’ (Durkheim, 1995 [1912]) which unites members of the subculture further, helping to create a collective and sustainable identity that they can hold on to when they return once again to the outside world and to their profane daily activities.

  Most, but not all, of the men in the crowd are muscular and are wearing t-shirts and jeans with labels such as ‘XXXL’ on them. Many of the women in the audience, regardless of whether they are slim or muscular, are ‘hyperfeminine’ in appearance, with heavy make-up and long hair extensions, displaying full cleav-ages under their tight clothes. The crowd appears to be mainly from the working and lower-middle classes. There are some lesbian couples watching the show, but no single women by themselves or overtly homosexual male couples. I’m not sure where I ‘fit’ in this environment, but I feel comfortable and know a number of people amongst the 1,000 spectators. I sit down amongst my friends and turn to the stage, where bodily displays of engorged muscles demand attention.

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  About two hours later, just 20 minutes before she is due to go on stage, I join Michelle and Jo backstage in the ‘pumping room’. This is the place where competitors carry out their final finishing touches and preparation before going on stage, such as engorging their muscles using small dumbbells or Dyna-Bands. I have a visceral reaction to the atmosphere, which hums with tension and excitement. It is warm, and there is a strange musty odour that permeates the air: a mixture of sweat, chemicals, flatulence and tanning products. The room is littered with confectionery wrappers and bottles containing alcohol or whatever the chosen final ‘sugar’ hit is, taken just before the competitor goes on stage to increase their vascularity and muscle cell fullness. Despite the ban on ‘instant’

  types, the tans have managed to leak and stain everywhere, over the door handles, floor and walls of the backstage theatre. Several male bodybuilders are slumped against the walls of the room, blending in like inanimate objects; their eyes are lifeless and unfocused. In contrast, a couple of the male bodybuilders are listless and agitated, unable to sit still due to all the adrenaline and stimulants inside them, and pace the rooms like caged animals. One seasoned competitor smiles at me, appearing calm and relaxed as he sits on the floor against the wall.

  There are five female Bodyfitness (Figure) competitors lined up in numerical order, waiting nervously to go on stage. A couple of the Bodyfitness girls are flicking or smoothing out their long, thick hair. One is practising her posing, whilst another is performing lateral raises with small dumbbells to improve the look/size of her shoulders. I am struck by how glamorous they look in their full make-up and sparkly bikinis, with their huge, taut breasts, six-pack abs and tiny waists, as they balance on clear high-heeled shoes. I’m suddenly conscious of my own appearance; of my fine, medium-length dark hair, my paler skin and my softer body – or, put simply, my own physical ‘flaws’.

  As Michelle begins to ‘pump up’ her muscles, the audience in the hall are encouraging and urging on the Masters (over-50s) male bodybuilders via applause and yelling. The commentator, like a Butlins host, tries to ‘work’ the audience and urges them to join in. During the compulsory poses, calls are shouted out: ‘come on, James’, ‘legs’, ‘that’s it, show ‘em your guns’, ‘go on Mark, you can do it’,

  ‘keep legs tight, Steve!’, ‘keep it tight’, ‘don’t forget the legs!’ The male bodybuilders come off the stage and the Bodyfitness girls replace them; they are met by a chorus of wolf-whistles. The girls only perform quarter-turns and have no routine, so their time on stage is very brief. I leave the claustrophobic backstage area and once again find my place in the audience.

  At last it is time for the female bodybuilders to take the stage for pre-judging.

  Due to the lack of competitors, both the lightweight and the heavyweight are asked to go onstage at the same time. It is finally Michelle’s turn; I watch her as she walks confidently onto the stage and into the light, with a huge smile on her face. At the commentator’s command she does her quarter-turns and then goes through the compulsory poses. The hours of practice pay off: for Michelle, this is her ‘time to shine’. In front of an audience of more than 1,000 people and the panel of judges, it is now time for Michelle’s two minutes of fame. This fleeting space of time provides a moment when glory is possible – to be seen, to

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  exist, to be ‘sovereign’ (Heywood 1998). Against the backdrop of a postmodern consumer culture, saturated and obsessed with visual images (Featherstone 1991: 67), the female bodybuilder, under the gaze of all, becomes the spectacle (Debord 1995 [1979]). Her identity is validated and confirmed through others’ acknowledgment of her embodied performance: ‘I am seen therefore I am’

  (cf. Descartes 1960 [1637]).

  Before the pre-judging round concludes, Michelle has one final chance to impress the judges (only the winner gets to perform in the evening show) via the finely choreographed routine that she has put so much time, effort and preparation into. She stands in the middle of the stage, poised under the spotlight, waiting for the beat of

  ‘Insomnia’ by Faithless to begin. Instead, a contemporary R&B song blares out. A look of disbelief and anger flashes across Michelle’s face as the head judge nods for her to continue on regardless. I can see that she is battling with her emotions as she manages to get through the routine, smiling through gritted teeth, and then walks off the stage fuming. Later on she explains how she felt at the time: It was a complete disaster! I couldn’t believe it when the music came on…

  now I know these things happen, but the head judge had no consideration for the effort, time and preparation that had gone into my routine and didn’t make it clear to the audience there was a problem. He seemed to think that just playing any old music would be fine! I was livid.

  Despite Michelle’s disappointment, there is some comfort in knowing that she will get a chance to perform again in the evening show due to the lack of competitors.

  She takes a deep breath and, now that the pressure is off, decides to ‘kill time’

  by leaving the backstage arena for a few hours and ‘heading out front’. She is greeted by a few close friends, one of whom has an eight-week-old baby boy. As Michelle holds the baby, I am struck by the contrast and incongruity of her hardness, muscularity and dark skin against his white, soft skin, thus breaking down and confusing the longstanding Western dichotomies between male/female, hard/

  soft, strong/weak, resilient/vulnerable and unnatural/natural. Supporting the tiny boy’s head in her comparatively huge tanned hands and muscular arms, Michelle sits back to try and relax and enjoy the sh
ow.

  After the ‘big boys’ (male heavyweight bodybuilders) have been onstage, there is an interval before the evening show. Often ‘guest-posers’ will do a seminar at this point. At some events there are other forms of entertainment, such as pole dancers, martial-arts displays and children’s activities. As it’s Easter, today there is an Easter egg competition. Children are called onto the stage and told to make a bicep pose. Around 15 boys and girls, between the ages of 2 and 13, are lined up under the glare of the lights with their fists in the air, trying to make their muscles stand out. Some are smiling and laughing, a couple of the very young children are crying (their parents quickly rush up to stand beside them) and the majority solemnly face the crowd. The audience is clapping and hooting. This is a family affair, a lifestyle, a celebration. The children are each presented with an Easter egg for their exhibition and participation.

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  The evening show commences at 6pm. The panel of seven judges (two women and five men) are seated at a long table bench in front of the stage. They are dressed very formally in dark suits and matching ties, pens poised, ready to fill in and make amendments to the score sheet completed during the pre-judging round.

  There is a pause as the audience waits for the first category to be called up. The juniors (under 21s) are called onto the stage to do a group ‘pose down’. This is where the competitors get to do ‘free posing’ to emphasize their muscularity and to compare and show themselves favourably against their opponents, typically, in the men’s case, to the ferocious beat of rock or heavy metal music. For the uninitiated, even the male competitors can appear shocking. The dieting process has caused a thinning of the skin, thus creating a form of ‘monstrous transparency’ (Halberstam 1995: 7). Their faces are skeletal: the skin is stretched over their skulls, emphasizing the hollows of their eye sockets, from which vacant eyes stare out. In contrast, their muscles appear to have taken on a life of their own (see Lingis 1988: 110), seemingly trying to free themselves from the constraints of the skin (Kaye 2005: 195). As bodies jostle against each other in the pose down, flesh against flesh each muscle shouts for attention. A couple of minutes later, the round is over and medals are given out. The group then leaves the stage. For most of the juniors, their ‘time’ in the spotlight is now over – they have undertaken 14 weeks of dieting and strenuous effort, time and sacrifice for just a couple of minutes on stage. The top three (those with the highest score), however, are called back for final posing comparisons. The announcement of the winner, which is typically controversial, is greeted by a strongly divided reaction from the crowd.

  Some members of the audience clap and make ‘whooping’ noises of delight; others make disgruntled noises such as hissing and booing, to project their frustration with the judges’ decisions.3 Trophies consisting of variously sized bronze sculptures designed to look like a male bodybuilder are awarded to the top three. At some shows the trophies are in the shape of shields, swords or other fighting symbols; at other times, trophy cups are awarded. Women, on the other hand, are frequently awarded with a sculpture in the shape of an athletic woman. Photographs are taken to capture the elusive moment – providing a tangible record for days to come (and further affirming and validating the bodybuilders’ identities). The lucky winner is then left to perform his 90-second choreographed posing routine to the crowd.

  Michelle is finding it increasingly hard to concentrate, yet there is still about an hour and half before she will be called back on stage. With glazed eyes, she turns to me and confesses: ‘I’m really tired and finding it hard to keep going… before, the adrenaline kick was keeping me going, but I’m now done in’. She feels dehydrated, exhausted and appears physically shivery and shaky. Michelle tells me: ‘everything feels surreal, I feel detached from what’s going on around me – I just feel exhausted’.

  The irony of bodybuilding competitions is that despite giving the appearance of a

  ‘superbeing’ on stage, in reality competitors are extremely vulnerable and weak at this point (see Fussell 1991; Klein 1993 for more detail). As Michelle explained after the event:

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  The constant influx of simple carbs, alcohol, and pumping up, combined with the fusty smell of tan and unwashed bodies, after a while makes for a definite nauseous feeling… although on stage you look amazing, inside you feel like shit… I just wanted a drink of cold water more than anything.

  I refrain from asking her any more questions and wish her luck as she heads backstage to find some sanctuary and I retake my place in the audience. The exceptionally long and challenging day for contestants fits in with Turner’s theory that an ordeal must be undergone as part of liminality (initiation ceremonies frequently include trials of pain and stamina). Furthermore, Turner (1969: 65) claims that ‘liminality is frequently likened to death, to being in the womb, to invisibility, to darkness’. As bodybuilders have been known to die at competitions (usually due to diuretic use), this is far from a simple metaphorical comparison, but is rather an indication of ‘the precarious boundary between life and death, self and body, inside and outside, person and thinghood that the bodybuilder tests, in the hope of merging, however briefly, with the ideal image of totality that only the gaze of the judge can ratify’ (Ian 2001: 79).

  With 20 minutes before she is due to go on stage, Michelle re-enters the purgatory-like area of the ‘pumping room’. This space acts as a ‘threshold’ before the sacrificial rite takes place, stripping bodies of their external identities and equalizing initiates. Costume rules are strict: for instance, bikinis must be made of plain, opaque materials (no patterns, no padding, no shiny colours), must cover three-quarters of the buttocks and must not be too highly cut. No jewellery (with the exception of wedding rings), accessories or body make-up can be worn, and no props (e.g. sunglasses) can be brought onstage. As Michelle begins to ‘pump’

  up for the last time, new life is breathed back into her organs, causing the separation between her muscle groups to become so distinctly visible and her veins so prominent that her body looks like an anatomy chart come to life. Her pumped-up muscles glisten underneath the oil and perspiration. It is finally time for that sacred moment, when she will ‘go into the light’ to be appraised and evaluated.

  Everything has been building up to this one moment in time. As she waits for the moment when she will offer up her body to be judged, there is a sense of inevitability, captured in the words of Simmel (1971 [1908a]: 193): the adventurer abandons themselves to the ‘powers and accidents of the world, which can delight us, but in the same breath can also destroy us’.

  She has made it. After waiting for and anticipating this moment for so long, it is finally ‘her time’. Knowing she cannot lose, Michelle walks on to the stage defiantly, trying to grasp the totality of this fleeting event. She poses against her lightweight competitor, dwarfing the other’s smaller build. She then goes through her planned routine, this time to the correct music. The sound of applause and cheers echo around the hall as the crowd shouts for her. It is over so quickly.

  Michelle is presented with her trophy by a well-known female bodybuilder.

  Posing for the photographer, she looks confident, radiant and proud. As she stands in the middle of the stage, with the lights shining down on her and the audience

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  clapping and cheering from the darkness of the stalls, she finally feels that she has truly become a bodybuilder.

  Conclusion

  Despite conquering the trials of the competition (pushing the mind and body almost to breaking point), the sacrifices involved have not resulted in a reduction of any of the tribulations and stigmatization that these women encounter in their daily interactions. There appears to be no real status transition, no re-entry into society with any improved position. After the competition, for the majority of the competitors who do not place well, there is a ‘comedown’, when female bodybuilders must return to their daily lives, with no reduced stigma. As
Michelle says:

  No one prepares you for what happens next – for how crap you feel in the weeks after competition. When you’ve got nothing to aim for… you’ve got no immediate goals, no daily structure – you kinda feel a bit lost. You look in the mirror and you look pale, fat and bloated… you just feel sad and generally unmotivated.

  If the female bodybuilding competitor is lucky she may be left with a trophy, but all are left with high financial and relationship costs. Thus, from the evidence that has been presented and analysed, I propose that there can be no full transformation, in that the activities and role associated with female bodybuilding result in no post-liminal realignment of social roles or norms. Moreover, female bodybuilding is not a vocation that can result in a neatly defined career. Indeed, the most influential bodybuilding organization in the world, the International Federation of BodyBuilders, refuses to offer professional status to British women (signified by the ‘pro card’), whilst there is no prize money on offer to women in British bodybuilding contests. Whilst it is extremely rare even for male bodybuilders to be fully professional in this respect, it is simply not possible to conclude reasonably that a formal, structurally induced, occupational transformation awaits women who commit themselves to the pursuit of muscle. In fact, female bodybuilders in the UK are unable to support themselves through bodybuilding earnings or sponsorship, relying instead on such activities as personal training, working in shops, managing pubs, office work and muscle worship. Moreover, there is no resolution to the problems and conflicts confronted by female bodybuilders in the gendered domain of interaction. There appears to be no permanent change on offer for these women. They confront the same problems, the same conflicts in society as they did before they embarked on their journey to competition.

  However, whilst there is no structured transition to a new role and social status in society, the individual female bodybuilder may feel that her ritual has led to a new self-identity, reflected in recognition by others within the ‘tribe’ of bodybuilding. Indeed, female bodybuilders feel they are gaining positive recognition, which is consistent with the idea that this rite (the journey to competition and