4 Weeks Out: The Beautiful Struggle of Getting Stage-Ready

Right now, I’m four weeks out. Sitting somewhere around 6% body fat. This is the part of prep where things get really quiet. Not because there’s nothing happening—but because everything gets harder.

If you’ve been here before, you know the silence I’m talking about. And if it’s your first time this deep into a cut, let me say this: it’s supposed to feel like hell. That’s how you know it’s working.

Let’s talk about what this really feels like.

You’re going to feel tired. Really tired. Not just “I need a nap” tired. I mean bone-deep, slow-to-move, drained-to-your-soul kind of tired. Walking from your car to the gym feels like a warm-up set. Even brushing your teeth can feel like work. You’re not lazy. You’re not weak. Your body’s just running on empty. Low food. High output. No room for fluff.

You train anyway. Because that’s what we do.

You’ll feel flat and soft… but shredded.

Sounds like a contradiction, right? Welcome to the final stretch. Your body is lean, the fat is gone, but without carbs in your muscles, you look deflated. It messes with your head.

There are days I look in the mirror and think, “Where did my gains go?” Then I remember—fullness comes later. Peak week will handle that. This phase is about suffering with your eyes on the finish line.

Your mood? Expect it to swing.

Little things will annoy you. You might snap. You might shut down. You might find yourself staring at the wall, questioning your entire life. I’ve had moments in prep where I’ve broken down in the most random places. Car. Shower. Gym locker room. No warning. Just tears.

It’s not weakness. It’s just everything catching up—fatigue, pressure, hunger, doubt.

And still… we keep showing up.

You’ll dream about food. Not just any food. The food you said goodbye to months ago. You’ll scroll through Instagram watching food reels like you’re studying for an exam. Cooking videos become entertainment. You’ll imagine the texture of a burger or the way ice cream melts on your tongue. But you’ll keep eating your egg whites, your fish, your rice. No salt. No fun. Just purpose. Because this isn’t about pleasure. It’s about performance.

Brain fog becomes your new baseline.

You’ll forget things. You’ll lose your train of thought mid-sentence. You’ll say “what was I doing again?” more than once a day. You’re not losing your mind. You’re just running on low glucose and high stress. I’ve learned to write things down. Keep it simple. Focus on one thing at a time. Prep will humble you like that.

Hormones? Don’t expect much from them.

Low sex drive. Interrupted sleep. Feeling cold even in 30-degree heat. Your body’s protecting itself. It’s prioritizing survival, not optimization. I’m enhanced, and I still feel it. Natural athletes—hats off to you. This part is brutal either way. But remember, your body will bounce back. This is temporary. Don’t panic. Just stay smart.

Here’s the part no one says out loud.

You’ll want to quit. You’ll wonder why you’re doing this. You’ll feel like a shadow of yourself—tired, isolated, disconnected. But you’ll keep going anyway. Because that’s who you are.

This sport, it’s not just about abs and striations. It’s about grit. It’s about doing the hard things when no one’s watching. It’s about pushing through the days that suck so the moment on stage can shine.

If this is your first prep, take this to heart:

Everything you're feeling is part of the journey. The hunger, the doubt, the exhaustion—none of it means you're doing it wrong. It means you're doing it right. You're pushing into new territory, becoming someone stronger than before.

To the seasoned competitors reading this, you already understand. This is the part where growth happens. Not just in the body, but in how we think, how we carry ourselves, how we lead. Prep isn’t just about cuts and condition. It’s about character. It humbles you. It sharpens you. It forces you to face your limits, and then ask more of yourself anyway.

And when the day comes, when you're backstage and the lights are just a few minutes away, something in you will click. You’ll realize that it was never just about the trophy or the posing routine. It was about proving to yourself that you could finish what you started. That you could go all in, even when no one else could see the work.

That’s what this really is.

You’re not just preparing for a show. You’re preparing to become undeniable. So keep going. Keep showing up. You are almost there.

And when you finally step on that stage, you’ll know exactly who you are.

By Noël Naguiat

Founder of Be Fearless | Masters Men’s Physique Competitor

Currently prepping for the 2025 Global Classic Hong Kong Regionals