When I wasn't at work or prepping meals, I was at the gym. To slash my body fat, Rockwell had me doing 40 minutes of fasted cardio in the mornings before work, plus an hour of strength training every day. My usual wake up time of 8:30 a.m. turned into 6 a.m. -- and I am not a morning person.

At week 13, she added high intensity interval training (HIIT) to my daily workouts, in the form of 25 minutes of treadmill sprints, to really get the fat cells burning. I was now hitting the gym three times a day, five day a week. Needless to say, the fitness center's staff and fellow gym rats became my new best friends.

Every night, I fell into bed exhausted, dreading my morning wake-up call.

Despite the challenges, my changing physique was giving me a whole new confidence, and in the bikini competition world, you need that -- especially when posing. Posing is one of the most important aspects of the bikini competition, and according to two-time Mr. USA winner and IFBB Bodybuilding Pro, Tamer El-Guindy, it can make or break your placing. "The girl next to you can have better abs, tighter glutes and chiseled quads, but if she doesn't know how to pose, she could come in dead last," El-Guindy shared at a posing workshop.

So, to keep myself from looking like an idiot, and to give myself a fighting chance at placing in the competition, I turned to one of the most successful posing coaches in the business, Kenny Wallach.

I showed up to my first posing session in Spandex shorts and a sports bra. (My gorgeous Angel Competition Bikini suit hadn't arrived yet.) Wallach took one look at me and said, "Are you wearing anything beneath your shorts?" Flustered, I informed him that I was rocking some bikini-cut underwear. "Good," he responded. "Take off your shorts."

I consider myself a fairly confident and open person, but when a complete stranger tells you to drop your pants (especially a guy), it can make you feel uneasy. "I'm a professional, honey," Wallach added, as if reading my mind. "This is strictly professional. I need to be able to see which poses are going to be the most flattering for your body."

I would spend the next six weeks twisting my body until my spine felt like it was going to break, flexing until I felt like I was going to pass out and practicing posing stances for an hour twice a day. The cherry on top? No one tells you that posing is as rigorous on the body as an hour-long workout, as multiple hours flexing and holding certain positions strains, stretches and works the muscle. There were mornings it was near impossible to get out of bed, because my back literally felt like I had been hit by a semi. But, as the weeks drew nearer to the show, my poses became stronger and more confident, and I finally started to see a competitor staring back at me.

While training had its tough points, it came with many positives. I felt good in my skin. I had more energy. I was getting better sleep. My body felt clean, I was becoming stronger every day in the gym. I felt powerful and confident -- until the competition drew near.

Suddenly, I was spending hours on Instagram comparing my body to other competitors' -- and when I looked in the mirror, I felt disgust. Despite my waist training efforts, my waist still looked boxy, my abs were invisible and my once full butt was now non-existent. I didn't feel show-ready nor did I think I was going to be ready in three weeks. That's when the panic began to set in.

My deep sleep was suddenly disturbed in the dead of night with sheer terror around not being stage-ready. I'd never experienced anxiety like that in my life. I didn't want to disappoint my coaches or myself. Soon, the worry and lack of sleep took its toll and I became sick.

At the pre-show check-ins the Friday before the show, I received my show number, a show-day schedule and the first layer of my spray tan. Let me tell you, there's nothing like bonding with your fellow competitors when you're all butt naked in front of each other waiting for your tans.

The show day itself felt like a blur. My day started at 5:30 a.m. and consisted of a 6:30 a.m. makeup appointment with Hollywood makeup artist, Steve Oraha, an 8 a.m. athlete check-in and a whole lot of running around behind a stage all day.

After my final spray tan, my coach called me to find out why the white crystals on my suit were yellow. The tanning professionals had failed to cover my suit, and I only had about 40 minutes until I hit the stage. So I spent the next 30 minutes in the bathroom frantically scrubbing the spray tan from my crystals while very carefully avoiding getting any part of me wet. Any trace of water would streak my tan. Needless to say, there were a lot of girls peeing in cups that day.

Regardless of the little hiccups, it was a superfun day. My fellow competitors were kind and supportive, and we all bonded over what snacks we had and what our cheat meals would be that evening.

The competition was split up into two separate events: The morning pre-judging, where the judges decided who won each class and the finals show that evening. That's when the judges confirmed our scores and revealed the champions.

Surprisingly, I wasn't too nervous prior to either show until the moments before I got on stage. But as I stepped into the spotlight, something happened. My nerves vanished, and I remembered what this entire journey was all about. I strutted my stuff with confidence, and posed just as I had practiced with Wallach so many times.

While I wish I could tell you I placed in both my classes -- I can't. In order to place, you have to make the top five, and this girl came in sixth. However, I'm happy to report that when my show came to a close, I was not sad or disappointed. I realized it was no longer about placing for me. It was about acknowledging the months of hard work, dedication and commitment I'd put in. It's an endeavor not many people dare to attempt, but I committed, and saw it through to the end. To me, that was a bigger accomplishment than any medal. The fact that I was headed straight to DK's Doughnuts after the show didn't hurt either.