number 1: Brady Vandiver
Earlier this week, I attended eighth grade graduation for Anilah, the young woman I have tutored since the beginning of her fifth grade year. As she and her classmates filed into the gym, Anilah’s younger brother bellowed, “THAT’S MY SISTER!”
I could see the exasperation and slight embarrassment on Anilah’s face. But I think I also saw some gratitude—it’s a joy to be claimed so proudly and lovingly.
On Saturday, I watched my 18-year-old brother, Brady, in his bodybuilding competition. He started lifting weights at 13, and for three years now, he has followed the strict meal plan and strenuous exercise regimen of a bodybuilder in training.
“If I were as disciplined as Brady,” I said to Loui, “I would have several published books already.”
Our family has gotten so used to Brady’s commitment to his special meals and workout plan that we probably take it for granted—and we might even get irritated sometimes, like when our holiday plans have to accommodate Brady’s trip to the gym. But his dedication is something that I deeply admire and, though I’m his oldest sister, look up to.
Loui and I arrived at the convention center just a few minutes before the pre-judging started, so Brady was already backstage. He had a large cheering section—his parents, his sisters, current and future brothers-in-law, both grandmas, three aunts and several great friends. We clapped and screamed every time he was on stage—and, fittingly in our eyes, he was competitor number 1.
During the finals, Brady did his posing routine to the song “Rain In My Heart” by Frank Sinatra. (My small contribution to his bodybuilding career is helping him edit his music, plus baking Butterfinger cake for him to enjoy after the show.)
At the beginning of the show, the promoters announced a few awards that would be given in honor of a beloved former participant who had recently passed away, including Best Presentation and Most Muscular. Every competitor was eligible.
After Brady did his routine and received his medal for winning the teenage division, we listened as the announcer told Brady to stay on stage for an additional announcement: Brady won Best Presentation.
On stage, Brady smiled, almost shyly, and clapped a few times for himself before accepting his trophy and doing a “front double bicep” pose for photos.
Our cheering section went nuts. All three of us sisters cried. For Brady, the youngest competitor in the show, to be handpicked and recognized for his presentation and posing skill was remarkable—and a true testament to his hard work and love for bodybuilding. We who love him already trusted in his potential, but this was a huge and tangible sign.
The first time I saw Brady off stage on Saturday, I noticed he was wearing a blue drawstring backpack embroidered with his name and a basketball. I can’t even pinpoint when he got that backpack, but he’s had it for years and years.
“I love that he’s still wearing that,” I said.
That backpack makes me think of all the versions of Brady I’ve watched as he’s grown up—the little boy who wore matching UK shirts with me, the teenager who showed us backflips on the beach, the strong young man who beamed as he held up his trophy.
That’s my brother.
Kentucky became a state on this day in 1792, so I originally planned to write about that for today’s newsletter. But that changed because I’m a words of affirmation girl who is ridiculously proud of my brother—and, as Loui said, “Kentucky has had 233 birthdays, it will probably have another one.” But drink an Ale-8 in our beloved Commonwealth’s honor today. I love you, Kentucky.