MOST people wouldn’t dream of going on holiday three weeks out from a bodybuilding show.
You’re flat, hungry, dragging through every workout and emotionally running on fumes. But a couple of weeks ago, I packed my prep brain, my food scales and my bikinis and jetted off to Marrakesh for 10 days.
Now before anyone loses their mind: no, I didn’t suddenly lose my grip on reality, or give up on my goal. The trip had been booked long before I was asked to guest pose and, after some back and forth with my coach, we decided to go. The challenge? Stay on track in a foreign country with buffet food, no kitchen and the kind of heat that could cook a chicken on a pavement. Basically, prepping on holiday.
Spoiler alert: I lost nearly three kilos while I was there – and not because I fell off track, but because I stayed on it harder than ever.
The first thing we packed, after sun cream and enough bikinis to last a month away, was our food scale. It came to the restaurant with us every single day. Was it subtle? Not even slightly. But prep doesn’t care about discretion. If you want to be stage ready, you learn to be the weirdo at dinner who weighs their proteins and carbs. Every meal was a mini mission: identify the leanest proteins on offer, keep fats as low as possible and balance it all within our macros.
But here’s where it gets interesting and, honestly, heartwarming. The hotel staff clocked what we were doing almost immediately. Instead of side-eyes or rule enforcement, we got the complete opposite. The hotel owner turned out to be a huge bodybuilding fan. He had us looked after like VIPs on a mission. He spoke to the chef personally and, from that point on, we were getting plain grilled chicken breast cooked specially for us every day, separate from the buffet.
We were even given permission to take food back to our room, despite the hotel having a strict no-food-in-rooms policy. "You’re different," the staff told us with a grin. "You’re training for something special."
Now don’t get me wrong, prepping on holiday is still hard. There were mornings I woke up flat as a pancake and so tired the thought of fasted cardio had me wanting to crawl back to bed. Training was rough. I was hot, hungry and missing my creature comforts. But one thing that made it manageable was the hotel gym. It wasn’t fancy, but it had what we needed, dumbbells, cable machines and enough space to grind out a decent session.
The heat, however, was brutal. I simply can’t train when I’m too hot, my energy tanks, my strength nosedives and I end up more irritable than pumped. So here’s another reason why this trip worked: the gym manager started meeting us there at 10am every morning just to switch on the air con for us. Every. Single. Day. He saw how serious we were and made sure we had the best possible set up to stay on track.
That small act of support meant the world. It turned each workout from a sweaty death march into something I could actually perform in. And that consistency added up.
We stood out, of course. Walking around with capped delts and sunken cheeks will get you some attention anywhere. But in Marrakesh, it was another level. Locals and hotel guests alike asked us what sport we were training for. Staff wanted photos. A few asked to see us flex — which we did, grinning, in between mouthfuls of chicken and salad. We were walking anatomy charts and they loved it.
What surprised me the most was just how possible it was to stay on plan, not because conditions were ideal, but because our mindset was. That’s what it really comes down to. Focus. Determination. And the ability to say no... over and over and over again. No to the pastries. No to the cocktails. No to the late-night snacks. But also yes, yes to the goal. Yes to the stage. Yes to yourself.
It would’ve been easy to slip, just a little. An extra handful of rice here, a “tiny taste” of baklava there. But that’s the thing about being three weeks out: there are no harmless slips. At that point, every detail counts. And we’d come too far to lose our edge in the name of temporary pleasure.
Bodybuilding isn’t normal. Prep isn’t comfortable. And prepping on holiday? That’s a whole new level of commitment. But what I learned in Marrakesh is that you can absolutely make it work, even under unusual circumstances, if your vision is clear and your dedication is bigger than your excuses.
I won’t lie, it was tough. But I didn’t come back with regret. I came back leaner, more focused and even more confident in my ability to handle pressure. And when I stepped on stage for my guest posing spot at the IBFA A1 Classic, part of that confidence came from knowing I stayed on track not just at home, but under palm trees in 45°c heat, with the support of people who genuinely wanted to see us succeed.
So if you’re prepping and wondering whether life has to stop, it doesn’t. You just have to carry your discipline with you, wherever you go. And maybe a food scale, too.
*Read more from Louise Plumb here.
