There is a strange fascination with women’s fitness.
It may be the most advanced division in the IFBB because of strength, muscle, conditioning, choreography, stage presence and athleticism; it’s the epitome of the fitness movement—and yet it’s always lived a bit in the shadow of its more muscular, less athletic cousin. Unlike all other sectors – male and female – fitness requires you to not only look the part, but to prove it in motion – intense motion. It’s not enough to stand there, strike a few poses, and be more impressive than the person next to you. No. You have to fly. And that’s exactly why Jen Hendershott belonged on the Olympic stage.
Long before she was Mrs. Olympia. Long before the Arnold titles. Long before the routines that forced judges to sit like the front row of the Baptist revival. She was a cheerleader – a cheerleader who made it through high school and college, climbed to the top, reached the peak of her competitive career at age 22, and looked around and wondered, what next?
Lost money
Everything usually ends, but the desire does not know that you have reached the end of the road.
“I wasn’t ready to retire from cheerleading,” Hendershott says. “That’s how I got fit.”
Hendershott was a cheerleader at Ohio State. He won the national championship. He taught encouragement all over the world. But in the competition, there was nowhere to go. A day later, Mike Davis introduced him to a fitness show.
“I said, ‘Yeah, I can do that.’
And the rest is history.
His rise was rapid, starting with his first amateur performance in 1997 at the Mike Francois Classic in Columbus. He received his professional card in 1999 at the US Championship in Santa Monica. Then drop to the pro where the lion cubs are feeding. Let’s say that his success was not immediate.
“My first Olympics was in 2000,” he says. “I didn’t win until 2005.”
That’s five years of being close, but not close enough.
“When you live it, it defines you as a human being. If I’m sixth or eighth… I’m eighth in the world and I’m upset? I’m in the Super Bowl and I’m mad?”
Then come the criticisms.
“You need bigger shoulders, bigger chest, bigger this, bigger that and of course better posture,” he says. “Everyone looks amazing. No one shows fat.”
Nothing is said to fitness girls that they have to get into conditions harder or better. They are always cut.
“You keep working. You go from eighth to fourth to third. You feel the momentum. But the competition is fierce. None of these ladies are competing to lose. Nobody is coming in hoping to place.”
But fitness has an added level of risk in their power routines. Not only do they have to perform and complete the same physical conditioning as any other division, but in that extremely hungry and worn out state, they also have to perform an Olympic level gymnastics routine. This element of the competition has taken a lot of knees, hamstrings, ankles, wrists, elbows… let’s just say it remains after the collateral damage.
Injuries?
“None.”
“I believe I was born for fitness.”
As a child, Jen studied ballet, tap and jazz. She turned down professional ballet at the age of 13 because she wanted to cheer. He learned how to stretch, ice, and take care of the body early.
“I’m loyal to my body,” she says. “So I’ve never pushed it beyond what it can handle.”
He never used diuretics to speed up his condition (because he knew they weakened his constitution – dehydration greatly increased the likelihood of cramps or actual damage to muscles, tendons, and connective tissue). He was on a strict diet—900 to 1,200 calories a day, sometimes 40 to 60 grams of carbs—but was always clean. You can think of Hendershott as a type of egg white and plain girl’s oatmeal.
But even with such relentless discipline, why was there no technique?
“What am I doing?” reminds me to think.
And then it happened in 2005.
He won Arnold. He won the Olympics – back to back. The Ohio girl won her home state at Arnold. Talk about being on top of the world.
“I dreamed of being Mrs. O,” she says. “And to get Arnold, being from Ohio, that meant everything.”
It’s hard to win once.
Win again as defending champion? Harder.
“Trying to win again as champion was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
But she never left. He never went far. Even in the wake of tragedy.
A moment that no one knew
After Arnold won in 2005, Hendershott became pregnant.
It ended with the children on the plane.
“I almost bled to death,” she says quietly. “Not one flight attendant asked if I was okay, ‘Would you like some water?’ Nothing.”
When the plane landed, she waited for everyone to get off the plane and walk towards her husband. He never made it public.
“It was private. It was devastating.”
It might as well have been galvanizing, because 10 weeks later she won the Olympics.
“It brought me into a relationship that I didn’t have before,” she said. “I wanted to prove to myself and to the world that I’m worthy. I’m here. I can do it.”
In 2008, he again won the Olympics. In 2009, he won the Arnold. Then he retired.
“There is nothing left for me to win.”
Time to go back
Joe Weider and Jim Manion created a platform – whether they fully realized it or not – that combined joy, dance and physicality into something entirely new. A natural progression for girls who have been dancing, dancing and acting since elementary school.
“I really fell into fitness,” says Jen. “But I know there are other girls out there like me who want to keep going. We have to show them the way.”
And what better way than the one Jen took? Why not bring joy to the Olympics?
That’s exactly what Olympia approached her to do: bring cheerleading to bodybuilding’s biggest stage. Host of the first cheerleading competition in Olympia. Create a nutrition system in women’s fitness.
“When they asked me, I said, ‘Seriously?’
The logic is undeniable. Cross-promotion. Bring college cheerleaders into the world of fitness. Welcome them before they leave. Let them see that there is a next chapter. They don’t have to compete at 22.
“I told them I would do it,” he says, “but I want a few things. First, I want to give away the first-place prize.”
I don’t think anyone would say no.
Back in the day, fitness was tougher and not as appealing to some athletes. There were four rounds, including two different swimming rounds, one for two pieces and one for one piece. No other department demanded so much. Since then, someone has come to their senses, and today it is only two laps, focusing more on normal performance. The division has evolved, but the core remains the same: female athletes who refuse to perform.
Hendershott sees an entire generation waiting for the way forward, and he’s more than happy to show it to them.
Life in one shot
Clever title for his new book: Life in One Shot: How I Built a Life of Passion, Purpose, and Zero Excuses. It took 15 years to become a reality. That’s a long time in the book business, but not without reason.
After Jen’s retirement, her father became ill. She took care of him for two years. Then he was sad twice more. Then his father got sick. Then his stepmother fought with leukemia. A decade of care, loss and grief.
“One year ago, my brother died of a heart attack,” he said. “That’s what finally pushed me. People die all the time. Life always gets in your way.”
So he wrote. And wrote.
The book is not just gifts and stage lights. It deals with doubt. Disappointment. loss Gratitude – especially gratitude.
“The IFBB and Olympia gave me a bright spot,” he said. “I wouldn’t have the life I have today without those people and those experiences.”
What’s more, it’s a plan for competitors who face the common reality of aging out of their sport and finding themselves at what they believe is the end of the road. Well, it’s not; the road just turns. The journey continues. Passion creates it.
Life in one shot available everywhere –amazon, Walmart, Barnes & Noble.
