Bodybuilder Vickie Gates slides onto the bench and grips the barbell tightly.
Bracing herself, she rapidly bench-presses the 285 pounds balanced on the ends.
“Come over and spot me,” she tells her boyfriend, Ronnie Coleman, as the numerous repetitions start to take their toll.
“Naw, baby,” he says teasingly, leaning against some equipment. “You gotta do it yourself.”
“I was helping,” pipes a friend, Robert Lee, who is a little smaller than Gates and has to struggle to spot her. She rolls her eyes and nods at a guy gawking nearby.
“You wanna spot me?” she asks him.
The guy looks at Gates’ chiseled, muscular arms, quickly shakes his head no and backs away. Coleman chuckles and moves forward to spot. He’s by far the biggest guy in the MetroFlex Gym in Arlington, Texas, on this Monday afternoon.
“It’s all about you, baby,” he says. “It’s all about mind over matter. No pain, no glory.”
For this professional bodybuilding couple, glory comes in adding weights and repetitions to their workouts. It comes in netting prizes and magazine centerpieces after placing in events such as the Olympia contests.
Glory comes in being big.
Sure, they’re ranked at the top of their sport. Sure, lifting all the medals, trophies and plaques they’ve won is a workout in itself. Still, this Arlington couple say they try not to get big-headed about their success.
“Ronnie and I are just the opposite, but that’s why we get along,” Gates says. He’s a police officer, she’s a personal trainer. “In his job, he’s more of a protector–keeping people safe. In mine, I’m more of a motivator.”
Coleman wouldn’t be where he is without a strong woman beside him to support him physically and emotionally, says friend and gym owner Brian Dobson. He has known Coleman since he was a rookie police officer 10 years ago asking for advice about lifting weights.
Physically, though, it’s kind of funny to see them together, Dobson says. “It’s really unique because most of the senior bodybuilding women at her level have little bitty guys for husbands.”
Gates is a former college athlete who turned her chiseled physique into a career. She organizes bodybuilding shows–including the annual Ronnie Coleman Classic, a local show that Dobson helps put together. She also trains clients and even flexes at her daughter’s school for show-and-tell.
“Once I took my mom to school and then they (her classmates) all were my friends,” says Gates’ daughter, Kindra Lewis, 10. “The boys thought it was pretty cool. I was very popular, and no one was mean to me.”
At competitions, Gates introduces Kindra to other female athletes, making a point to show her that women can be strong and fitness is a priority.
The two sometimes exercise together. “If I’m the only one on the floor, she’ll do sit-ups right along with me,” Gates says.
At home, Gates and Coleman measure their lives in grams. A scale replaces the typical fruit bowl as a centerpiece on their kitchen counter. To maintain their hulking frames, Copleman must consume about 4,000 calories a day, Gates about 2,500. Their weekly grocery bill comes to between $300 and $400.
“I’ll cook two family packs of chicken–y’know, with 13 pieces in each pack,” Gates says, spraying a pot with cooking spray. “I’ll cook 10-packs of turkey cutlets. By the time we’re finished, the bin is cleared out.”
When she’s not clearing shelves at the grocery, Gates says, she clears them at the mall. She loves clingy black dresses and suits but must have them altered to fit her frame.
“A lot of times when I see girls who are bigger, I think, `Whoa, now that’s too far,’ ” Gates says. “I’ll compete as long as I can, until I stop placing high. Then it’s time for Vickie to step down.”
It’s a decision she says many women bodybuilders are forced to make. Cost also is a concern in a sport that pays men upward of $150,000 a year and women less than a third of that. Just preparing for a show can cost $10,000, and most perform in a couple of shows a year.
“A lot of the relationships among bodybuilders have conflict because of jealousy and sexism,” she says. “But Ronnie and I know it’s not us, it’s the system. As long as I know I’m helping him, I don’t feel bad. We’re a team.”
Coleman says Gates is the best training partner he has had. She forces him to think big in his lifting and in achieving other goals.
“I’ve always been big,” Coleman says, flexing a bicep. “In high school, everyone always asked me if I worked out. But I never wanted to be a bodybuilder. I wanted to be an accountant.”
