Masters Bodybuilder Prep Diary – Episode 4: A second win, a school disagreement and Phil Vickery in the tanning queue

Two wins from two, one battle at home

Saturday, September 26 – 2Bros debut show day.

I wake at 4am. Same routine because Nathan is stateside with Yinka at the Olympia. It's 8pm there. Pics, weight, back to bed till 6am. Plans drop alongside the comment: "Absolutely crazy look. Hard, full and vascular and you've only just woken up. This is only going to get better." Before Meal 1, I have a strong, sharp coffee. The plan is to have two meals before stage and two litres of water. Salt remains consistent. I'm relaxed. No stomach pain today like last week at my opening show.

Laura and I both wake, dress – I can't shower due to having a base coat of tan from the night before – and make our way to the venue. It's like a who's who of Instagram. The base coat of Pro Tan has me looking ridiculously dark, but even so the tanner asks if I've even had a base coat. Top coat goes on. 2Bros run their show with an iron fist. Officials patrol the tanning area calling numbers, telling relevant competitors to get their glaze, then get backstage to pump up. It's warm backstage, which really helps — you're more vascular when it's warm, and pumping up is more manageable.

I know I need to pump up more for this one, as we try to match the post-workout look we've tracked every day for two weeks. I start with biceps, then shoulders, then move into my weakest bodypart – chest. Four to five sets of 15-20 reps with bands. Then press-ups. Officials have us queueing two classes deep, ready to go on. At this stage I'm just keeping the pump by posing hard, squeezing the muscle.

We're on. I wave to the crowd as if I know them all and they know me. I only know my wife, Laura. Quick comparison of the four of us. Not even quarter turn side poses. Then off. Back on for 20-second individual posing. I show them my best front poses but not my back, which is generally weaker. Before I know it, we're off stage. Then I have to wait more than an hour just for posing routines and awards.

I'm chosen as the winner. Such an addictive feeling. Two shows, two wins so far on this return.

Sunday, September 27

We're up early for my son Oliver's football match. 9.15am arrival and it's a 40-minute drive. Some other football parents have a bit of banter about my tan — looks like jaundice, apparently. Ollie plays well but has an issue with his plantar fascia. He gets through it. Another strong showing. Back to baseline diet today: 1900 calories today and tomorrow. We will likely start loading again on Tuesday into the PCA Masters in Hull next Saturday, October 3.

Monday, September 28

Baseline again. I'm starting to feel washed out, for no other reason than the two shows, I'd imagine. Post-workout look is strong again — wild, in fact. Condition just keeps getting better.

It's Fudge's birthday today, one of my four cockapoos. She is four. Laura and Georgia, my daughter, insist on going out to buy her some bits. I choose to stay because I have a ton of writing to do for FrontDouble and News Uncut. They return with doggy cakes and film themselves singing happy birthday to Fudge, who seems to sit there attentively until they've finished, before grabbing her cupcake and padding off down into the living room.

Tuesday, September 29

Day 1 of PCA load. Higher carbs. Raisins and honey back in with my rice and chicken. Gorgeous meal. Rice pudding doubles from 50g to 100g. Must remember to buy some more — always get caught short needing some urgently. Post-workout pics are insane again. Really need to nail this look for the stage on Saturday.

Wednesday, September 30

Hugely tired today. I'm assuming it's the extra carbs, because there's no cardio at this stage and steps are moderate.

I get a text from school while I'm at work — Ollie's been given another detention. A few minutes late in the morning because the traffic on the school approach is appalling. Why does the school think it's OK to book detentions in my time? When the school day ends, that is my time. Turns out they have government permission and don't need parental consent. We live in a dangerous world where schools and government can override parental consent. He will now miss football training because of this, and no one can collect him when detention finishes due to work. That is why these things must be arranged with parents and not forced on them.

Laura calls the school and they are, as usual, unhelpful, but promise to wait with him until someone gets there. I'm waiting at the school for an hour. No sign of Ollie. Laura can't reach them on the phone because the school is now shut. I find a teacher and, staying calm, explain how disappointed I am that the school seems to want to crush him and ruin his experience so early on. I express my fear that I have no idea where my 11-year-old is. Turns out the school did not wait with him as promised, and he made the decision to walk home alone. He is now in trouble. And so is the school. But hey, they got their 30-minute detention.

I receive my feedback from the 2Bros head judge. Pretty awesome: "Conditioning was good, your physique is balanced, shape is good and skin still good also. Nothing wrong to say except keep growing if you can while preserving that balance and aesthetic." Noted. Off-season pending.

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Thursday, October 1 – PCA Masters, two days out

Two days out. I remember I am competing Saturday. I finish and publish my 2Bros colour piece from last Saturday, set up Sibel Osman's Road to Milan piece, and start on a feature with the excellent Official Body Muscle Art. All before client work and my own job.

I see some other Over 50s competitors on social media and the nerves start to kick in. Everyone is telling me how good I am and that they can't see anyone beating me. The positivity makes me uncomfortable, and I know it's never as clean-cut as that. I also know not to focus on others. But that is always easier said than done.

Friday, October 2 – PCA Masters, one day out

The day got progressively worse as it went on. Dropped Ollie to school in plenty of time. Daughter unwell so didn't go. He finishes at 2pm on Fridays, so we planned to get him picked up by his mother-in-law, then travel to Hull early.

No work today as overtime finished, but had to go in for a team meeting — AGM role up for grabs. This gives me something to think about. Had to buy more whey protein and more asparagus on the way home; we're putting in 100g of asparagus over four meals today, together with 1g vitamin C, as both work as a mild diuretic, although I'm not a fan of diuretics. Muscle is 70% water and needs water to be hard and full, so pulling water never makes any sense, even mildly.

Late getting back home and still need to take the dogs out. On the walk, I get a text from the school: Ollie was a few minutes late to a lesson and now they want to give him a 30-minute detention today after school. My blood hits boiling point in record time. This is the third time they have tried to enforce an arbitrary same-day detention in my time. I have already written to them saying they have no authority over my time, and all they said is they have government permission and don't need my permission to keep my children after school. This is a dangerous route to go down. The government does not own my children either.

We still haven't left for Hull, so plans for an early departure are now scuppered. We eventually leave but it takes us more than five hours to arrive at the Airbnb. I reach the base-coat tanning venue at 8pm, only to realise former England rugby captain and World Cup winner Phil Vickery is competing. I make a mental note to try and nab him for an interview tomorrow. He's competed before but never at a show I've done.

I finally sit down at 9.30pm to eat Meal 4 — two meals behind and two litres behind. I still have writing to do. And I remember, finally, I'm actually supposed to be competing again tomorrow.

Want a coach who's living the prep alongside you? I'm taking on clients. DM me on instagram @gary_chappell76 or email info@dietplanman.com to apply to work with me.

Prep diary of a Masters bodybuilder Ep.3: Teeth falling out, a prep kitten and my opening win

A week of contest prep, family life, work, fatigue and increasingly precise attempts to get my physique right for the next four shows – with the next one my 2Bros debut

Saturday, September 19, 2026 – show day:

I wake at 6am. No tan on the white bedding because both coats are being sprayed this morning. But as has happened once or twice over the past few weeks, I get sharp pains in my stomach. I struggle to find decent lighting in the Airbnb but take pics and weight and fire them over to Nathan, who has just landed in Vegas as he plots the 212 Olympia debut for his client Yinka Majolagbe. They are eight hours behind, he's had a 10-hour flight and it's getting late stateside. Without fail my phone lights up within minutes; espresso and 5-10min walk to get things moving. I venture out into the morning light, wander round a park, past a squirrel ruffling the feathers of a flock of hungry pigeons then, of course, a Ghostbuster van.
Meal 1 goes in; 100g Hydrorice – rice pudding to you and me – whey and honey. Pics and weight in two hours. Water and salt consistent.
As I prise the kids out of bed and the family gets ready, I wash up, make sure the place is clean for check-out and gather my bits together for the day ahead. I have tanning at 9am and expect to be on stage at 1.30pm. Short drive to the venue – seven minutes or so.
Tanning is, as it always is, delayed. I chat to mass monster Don Valley in the changing room as we both wait to stand together, naked, except for a sock. Amiable chap. We talk bodybuilding and its problems. We're clearly on the same page and I reflect how these shows always create friendly bonds with people who live the other side of the country. It is one of competitive bodybuilding's positives.
I finish tanning at gone 11 and realise the show has started and they are rattling through classes. That means they are ahead of schedule. I rush to get pics and weight to Nathan waiting more than 5000 miles away across the pond for my update. Messages struggle to go through due to dodgy reception and I'm feeling increasingly rushed. Finally they go through. I get my meal plan. Then I find out I'm going to be on much earlier than planned. We halve the meal and I just start pumping up. I'm now on in 30 minutes roughly, not 90. I stand behind the stage curtain as some guy I have never met rubs glaze into my skin. They call me on straight into my posing routine. I perform it to a backdrop of my wife and daughter's support. No rest as it finishes as they want me straight into mandatory poses. It is just me in the class. Happens sometimes. You just get on with it. At least I've won.

I'm surprised by my posing fitness - this never happened in 2024 BC [see previous diary entry]. My midsection control is excellent and breathing nicely under control. I'm confident, happy. It has gone well.
As the chance is there, I step into Class 2 - open bodybuilding - just for extra stage time. It is me and the friendly Don Valley. What a battle. Don outmuscled me. I out conditioned him. Today they want muscle and he takes the win. I'm pleased for him. He messages me later with very complimentary words about how I've helped him realise what he needs to do condition-wise to achieve his PCA Pro Card. I always struggle with people being positive. That and self-belief. I am working on it. Later, I win best poser, even though in my head I cannot pose. Overall, it is job done as we prepare for two more shows back to back.
I ditch my flip flops and change back into trainers for the three-hour drive home. As I drink a sugar-free energy drink and sugar-free fizzy to help navigate the M6 and M1, I start feeling more human again. I walk through the door at 8.30pm. Two meals to go and we reset for another competition in six days.

Sunday, September 20, 2026:

Back to baseline diet today. 1900 calories. Fully expected. I take my son to his football match for 9.15am. He is captain for the day and opens the scoring. The weekend seems to continue in a positive vein. He misses out on man of the match and seems upset afterwards. But I ask him: 'Did you put in a man of the match display today'? He did. I say: 'This is what we want. You keep your standards high, put in performance worthy of man of the match every single game, the rest is out of your hands. But do everything in your control to be the best'. It seems to lift him. I tell him he's done a good job, bank it and move forward.
The depleted feeling starts rinsing through me late in the day as the lower food starts to bite. The dog walk gets hard when this feeling returns. I do what feels like mountains of washing up and fold what also appears to be two tonnes of washing. Full client check-ins too. Many have cheated on their diet this week. It reminds that I haven't done that ever. And had nothing off plan since May. I get an insta message asking me to do a podcast. I'm told some people think I'm an icon. I wonder if she means eyesore. Who knows.

Monday, September 21, 2026:

Baseline diet again. More food expected tomorrow as we polish for the next show, my 2Bros debut. I need to do this UK regional qualifier so I can compete at the NPC European Masters in Milan. Last leg session today. Lots of writing too as I catch up from the weekend's exploits. Son got in the school football team, albeit the reserves. That'll do. He can build from there. Things are looking up.

Tuesday, September 22, 2026:

Carbs start going back in after two days on baseline diet. Regardless, I start to feel washed out. Strange, because there isn't even any cardio at this point. I have an overtime shift until 1pm, then a PT client, training, then straight to get the kids. Tuesday is always manic. I need to take my youngest to football training by 5.45pm. I try to eat first – but there's no chicken already done so I have to prepare more. With my wife on a 12-hour ambulance shift, I'm juggling plates. I put washing on, wash up the mess left from the morning rush, eat – finally – then dash out the house for football. I take my laptop so I can do some writing in the car but the laptop is low on juice and it dies quickly. Training ends earlier than usual because of the fading light but I'm still not home till nearly 8pm. Then I prepare dinner for the kids, eat again and take the dogs out. It's now 9.30pm. I have one more meal left, my head's spinning with stuff I need to do and haven't done, a million emails from the kids' school [why do they insist on sending so many?!] and a message to deal with after my son was given a detention for forgetting to bring in a whiteboard. This is his third week of high school. Their arbitrary rules are just so unnecessary.
I keep checking emails to see if anything has dropped from the literary agents I pitched. It's been about seven weeks since I finished re-polishing my children's picture book. I need another income stream and this idea has been in the works for years. I've had one rejection and silence from six others. Nothing from The Times, either, after two job applications for sports production and sports news editor; roles I have close to 20 yeas' experience in. At different points I remember I'm prepping for another four bodybuilding shows.

Wednesday, September 23, 2026:

I'm up at 4.30am to do fresh pics and weight to ping to Nathan, who is eight hours behind in Vegas and who has been up since 4am himself preparing Yinka for his 212 Olympia debut. We exchange a few messages, then I go back to bed until 6.45am when I take more pictures, this time in the garden for natural light. They are so much better. I keep referring to my post-workout pics in the best bog in Thurrock and how I believe that look is even better than the stage look from Saturday. I never think official photos do the physique justice somehow. Or maybe I'm never happy. I sent Nathan some stage shots overnight and his reply landed: "Some of these shots are crazy". He mocks up our 12-week transformation from when we started working together saying "crazy 12 weeks work" and "should be super proud of these". Still, the thought persists that I can improve that stage look.

I'm tired at work today. Client at 9.30am, train, then straight into holding a circuit class. I eat soon after then retreat into my shell for a bit. I clean the treadmills and crosstrainers as it helps me think. I leave at 4pm and head straight to collect my son from school football training. His training overruns and I'm nodding off in the car. Three days out from show number two of five.

Thursday, September 24, 2026:

Up before the alarm today at 4.15am. Pics sent across the pond to Nathan. Then back to bed for all of two hours. Weight holding after two days of higher carbs so a few more going in today. We are trying to land a similar look to my post-workout fullness; dry and vascular. I take them after two meals and 2.4litres of water. So what I need to do on Saturday for my 2Bros debut is improve my pump-up routine. I won't be working out obviously. But in the past I have not pumped up very much for fear of blurring detail in the muscle when in fact, with me, the opposite appears to be true – and these post-workout pics prove this. As the day goes on, I get that empty, quiet feeling again. So I hoover and clean the gym simply to be alone with my thoughts. I feel rushed when I leave; writing bits for FrontDouble, preparing stuff to get to Milton Keynes on Friday in time for tanning and registration. My mind is not clear. I don't like this feeling.

Friday, September 25, 2026:

One day out from show two of five, my 2Bros debut. I wake groggy after a bad night. Dreams were wild and weird. First, I dreamt my teeth suddenly starting falling out one by one. Then I dreamt my plans dropped from Nathan for my next show and he wanted to me to buy a kitten. I can remember thinking, why the hell do I need this? I already have four dogs.
I work the early shift today 8-12. Food is pulled back slightly. We are trialling the look without Peak Max this time. Everything has looked ideal day after day, following two meals, two litres and a workout. So we are not adding any more variables. On Saturday we just repeat, two meals, two litres and I fix my backstage pump-up protocol by doing a bit more and not worrying whether I'm going to blur any lines. Looks like I need more of a pump up, not less. These two qualifying shows will serve the perfect purpose of refining for the more important trio to come; the PCA Masters next Saturday, October 3, the PCA Britain and the NPC European Masters.
I finish work at 12, get home, get my bits together, collect the kids from school at 2pm – early finish Fridays – then head to the venue at Milton Keynes. Loads of motorway traffic as usual. And once again I have to stop at a services to use the toilet, which they helpfully locate 400,000 miles away from the car park. I switch to passenger and let Laura [my wife] drive. I click the heated seat button and doze off, waking on M1 to yet more traffic. We arrive just in time for me to dash behind an outbuilding and because I'm busting for the toilet yet again. Base coat of tan goes on. The spray is freezing. We then get diesel but due to a couple faffing at the pump and then the pump not reading the debit card, I somehow lose my reading glasses. Stress after stress. We finally reach the Airbnb, I eat and settle down to get some writing done ahead of tomorrow's second outing.

Prep Diary of a Masters Bodybuilder: Episode 2 – Learning to let go

Masters Bodybuilder Prep Diary – Episode 2: "The Look," CPAP and the best bog in Thurrock

Episode 2 of Gary Chappell's prep diary picks up in the final stretch before his return to the stage – peak week loading, a reflection on a life-changing CPAP diagnosis and the ordinary chaos of parenting, work and stress that doesn't pause just because show day is close.

Monday, September 14, 2026

I pad downstairs in my shimmering posing trunks. Let the dogs out. Return to the kitchen. Weigh myself. Set up my phone against my daughter's pink Stanley Cup and go through my mandatory poses for updated pics. Then I go outside and do the same in natural lights. A few minutes pass and my phone lights up. Plans for the day drop from Nathan. More food. The final week loading phase begins. We are going to do it slowly for more control over the look. I hear a lot of this phrase recently and it finally starts to resonate. Weight? To a degree, you can forget it. Strength? Irrelevant. The look? Everything matters. How do you look? Big? In proportion? Ripped? Dry [no extracellular water that blurs the lines]. The look is everything. A banging look can beat a monster bodybuilder who lacks condition. Food is high today. Not as high as the high days we have had over the past couple of days, but high enough to shed the zombie feeling and start breathing some life back into this once human being. Was promised I'd hear about that job today. Silence.

Tuesday, September 15, 2026

The morning routine begins again. Pad downstairs in posing trunks. Dogs out. Weight. Pics inside. Pics outside. One litre of water. 22 health tablets. Greens drink. All before Meal 1 - a meal I have no idea of until plans drop for the day based on this morning's look. More food going in. Perfect. Pics wanted post workout too. The accessible toilet in my gym is my new favourite haunt. The pics of my most muscular are starting to impress me – me of all people. An eternally grumpy 50 year old cynic who can find faults in almost anything. I feel more like a human being than I have in weeks. Busy night. Football training earlier than normal for my youngest. Dinner needs doing for daughter beforehand, dogs need taking out. I hate rushing. Still not heard about the job. I get home roughly 8pm to an overwhelmingly positive email that says I'm ready for the new role and my interview was superb. But they have given the job to someone else. Back to square one.

Wednesday, September 16, 2026

I'm going to start referring to sections of my life as 'BC' – before CPAP. Been treated since October 2025. At this point in time – BC – I was constantly tired. I'd wake feeling rough, drop kids at school, crash on sofa in darkness. Now I can wake at 6.15am perfectly fine. I could never dream of doing that in my life BC. It really is a biblical change. Morning routine takes place. Plans drop. More food. What a week! I am a fully paid up member of the human race again. Cardio - which was not high anyway – now coming down to 10mins. Pics in the best bog in Thurrock just keep getting better; I am skinned but bursting full. Son has second school football trial after getting through the first hurdle. He's upset coming out. Said it didn't go well and wasn't called over. I calm him down and say they already know your name so why would they call you over to ask it again. He's good enough to get in and that's not just because I'm his dad. He finds out Friday but as a parent it's another thing to worry about on top of everything else.

Thursday, September 17, 2026

Two days out. I now fully appreciate the phrase 'the look'. My bog pic today is banging. It is arguably the best version of me I have seen since I started competing as a Masters seven years ago. I look enormous; full, ripped, veins running across my body like an AA route planner. I'm happy. I reflect on the past 11 weeks. Taking on a coach was difficult at first. I'd coached myself for the last eight or so shows. 14 in total self-coached from 20 outings. But I finally learned to hand over the reigns. I realise now its merits; he worries about the fine details of what to do with my physique, leaving me to stress over other things! I'm not sitting here two days out wondering how much water I should drink or not drink, whether I should push more food or pull back. Nathan does the thinking and the worrying. I just execute. It is working well. I am more relaxed. And I look good.

Friday, September 18, 2026

One day out. Up earlier than normal because I start work early. Nathan is happy with morning pics. He posts before and after on his socials showing the 12-week difference from when I first reached out. I cannot remember looking that bad. We pull back slightly on food just a touch for the final day but it remains high in comparison to baseline diet. I feel washed out today though. Excessively tired. Today is also the day my son finds out whether he's in the school football team. I'm stressing more about that than anything else. Then it occurs to me that I brought in a coach so I would not have to stress about my own decisions surrounding my physique – leaving me free to stress about any other subject I choose! I collect the kids from school and it turns out the teachers have not put up the final list as they promised they would. So we have to wait until Monday at least to find out. We drive to Wolverhampton and the urge to urinate extends the journey time as I need to stop at a services. We arrive at the Airbnb about 8pm. I need to relax. I'm clearly not as comfortable as I need to be. Not sure why. With tanning at 9am tomorrow I put clear nail varnish on to avoid that brown staining which makes me look like I've been smoking 40 a day all my life...

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Prep Diary of a Masters Bodybuilder: Episode 1 – The Road to Milan begins

Masters Bodybuilder Prep Diary – Episode 1: Black coffee, chewing gum, depletion and the Sainsbury's saga

FrontDouble founder and Masters bodybuilder Gary Chappell is heading back to the stage for the first time since 2024 – and documenting every high day, low day and missed blueberry muffin along the way. This is Episode 1 of an ongoing series following his prep all the way to his first European Mastersd in Milan in November as an Over 50s competitor, run alongside his coaching clients, his NPC regional, back-to-back shows across IBFA, 2Bros and PCA, his family and four cockapoos. No polish, no filter – just what actually happens.

Sunday, September 6.

Black coffee. chewing gum. sugar-free fizzy drinks. Maybe a sugar-free energy drink. The gap between meals is getting longer, harder. I'm now at the point of prep where i'm licking the bowl containing my last meal; 250g Greek yoghurt, 20g whey, 10g peanut butter, 10g dark chocolate. Not licking it with my tongue – I'm not an animal, you know. I'm clearly much more civilised. I run my finger around the inside of the bowl and lick my finger afterwards. I'm sitting here two weeks out from my first show since 2024. A few months ago, my season was over before it had begun. We [coach Nathan Smart and I] and decided to postpone it until 2027 following a wretched off-season blighted by sleep apnea and subsequent chronically high levels of haemoglobin and haematocit, caused by severe hypoxia. But after a successful health phase, my body responded so well that suddenly 2026 is back on the table. I will step into the Over 50s at the earliest possible opportunity, having hit that milestone is May.

The drained feeling of depletion sweeps through me. It's almost akin to boredom. Nothing to look forward to. Maybe this is the reason behind prep spending. A longing to have something to look forward to, so we bodybuilders buy stuff we don't actually need.

Entered first 2Bros show today. Almost fainted at the cost. £242 including tanning. I'd expect to be handed the Jules Rimet at this fee.
35 minutes until I can eat 125g rice, 150g chicken breast and 100g green veg.

Monday, September 7

High day. Weight and pics first thing out of bed. Posing trunks out of the wardrobe. Pics in the kitchen under inside light, then outside, photobombed by cockapoos sniffing the morning air. Mood so much better with more food going in, although my face seems to get more sunken on these higher carbs days. Can never understand why. Must be the body pulling water into the digestive system.

Tuesday, September 8

Another high day. Same macros as yesterday. Made legs easier, as if easy is ever a word to associate with legs. Still feel drained between meals. Face coming in even more.
9pm - I have just discovered I've missed a message that said "have a blueberry muffin pre-workout, post-workout and before bed". Jesus! What?! How the hell did I miss that?! Six muffins I've missed. I message Nathan. Conversation ends with me scrambling to local Tesco only to discover they don't have any muffins. I'm not going to Sainsbury's instead. It's late. I'm tired. Definitely not going to Sainsbury's.
I go to Sainsbury's. Two muffins before bed. Glory of bodybuilding.

Wednesday, September 9

Back to baseline diet 1900 cals. Cardio back in. Half way through the day and I'm back to feeling drained; depleted, needing chewing gum, coffee, something – anything. Find out my NPC regional is going to be the busiest of the season with at least 250 competitors. This does nothing for my confidence. I'm now creating make believe scenarios in my head over the next few hours and treating them like the true events. My son's Year 7 football trials three days into his first week at high school focuses my attention elsewhere. Good player. I believe in him. He should do well. Always a worry though when there are so many kids competing for so few spots. Collect him and he seems to have done well. I spend the rest of the evening preparing for a job interview tomorrow. I've never needed the money more in my entire life following my redundancy from national newspaper journalism in 2024.

Friday, September 11

I wake buzzing from yesterday's interview still. Quietly confident I'll get the job.
Brain fog, I remember you. I struggle to concentrate during training. Rest between sets seems to be getting longer. Maybe it isn't. Maybe I'm just bent over double staring at the floor for longer after I finish my set. What little personality I had is now draining from me. I've replaced the role my wife had made firmly her own by falling asleep in front of the TV early at night.

Saturday, September 12

Officially one week out from my return to the stage for the first time since 2024. Coach messages to confirm check-in tomorrow. Assume this is where we start to plan for the week ahead. I hate the phrase 'peak week'. Some polishing can take place, yes. I'm competing every Saturday for the next three weeks; IBFA Night of Champions, 2Bros qualifier and the inaugural PCA Masters. At this point, you just want to get on stage. Death face is sharp now; cheeks and eyes sunken in. Toilet breaks infrequent as everything is being used, although urination flows more than the Trevi fountain. Carbs low for five days now since back-to-back high days. Back in the garden early doors tomorrow with nothing but my trusty shimmering posing trunks to assess where we're at. Online check-ins today with my clients, then some writing for my political substack News Uncut and, of course, FrontDouble.com. Both keep the mind from wandering.
I finish the day with my mind wandering...

One response to “Prep Diary of a Masters Bodybuilder: Episode 1 – The Road to Milan begins”

DAVID AUSTIN

September 23, 2026

Haha…. Yea I’m a fan

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Two wins from two, one battle at home

Saturday, September 26 – 2Bros debut show day.

Want a coach who's living the prep alongside you? I'm taking on clients. DM me on instagram @gary_chappell76 or email info@dietplanman.com to apply to work with me.

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A week of contest prep, family life, work, fatigue and increasingly precise attempts to get my physique right for the next four shows – with the next one my 2Bros debut

Saturday, September 19, 2026 – show day:

Sunday, September 20, 2026:

Monday, September 21, 2026:

Tuesday, September 22, 2026:

Wednesday, September 23, 2026:

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Masters Bodybuilder Prep Diary – Episode 2: "The Look," CPAP and the best bog in Thurrock

Monday, September 14, 2026

Tuesday, September 15, 2026

Wednesday, September 16, 2026

Thursday, September 17, 2026

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Masters Bodybuilder Prep Diary – Episode 1: Black coffee, chewing gum, depletion and the Sainsbury's saga

Sunday, September 6.

Monday, September 7

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One response to “Prep Diary of a Masters Bodybuilder: Episode 1 – The Road to Milan begins”

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