I arrive early at the Police Sports and Cultural Club, beating the translator by a good hour. What can you do? To fill the time, myself and some of Abu Dhabi Police’s finest sit swapping photos brought by Captain Mohammad Youssef – bearer of memories and Mars Bars. In one of them stands Captain Ahmed, painted a dull gold and wearing little but a pair of Speedos and a wide Cheshire Cat grin. That’s his game face, he explains. ‘Why’s that fellow next to you painted bronze,’ I enquire, ‘did he come third?’ Ahmed laughs. I’m not sure he understood, but he’s quick to demonstrate his competitive smile.
Across the desk from Ahmed sits Lieutenant Khald Saeed Nakad, whose voice rumbles between deep, bodyshaking laughs. The words Hard Rock Café are struggling to span his sizable chest and appear to have given up halfway, but he’s a genial host and rises briefly to point out some of the highlights on his championship wall. In one picture, Sheikh Zayed stands over the Abu Dhabi Police bodybuilding team and Khald points to himself and nods. Together we sit, each awaiting translation, all of us clearly wondering quite what is going on.
You see, bodybuilding is a serious business in the Middle East. You need only wander down a casual sidestreet in the capital and glance upwards to see a half-dozen billboards for gyms boasting of gaudy six-pack abs and Herculean physiques. It is perhaps one of the ironies in this part of the world, where revealing one’s physique in public is so frowned upon, that the body beautiful should be so revered. Certainly, walking down the corniche in only a pair of Speedos resembling Goldfinger’s latest victim would bring swift citation from the very people who are talking to me now. But put it on a stage and you get government sponsorship.
For the Abu Dhabi Police it is a very serious matter indeed. Their training sports facilities opened back in the ’80s. ‘The aim was to get a fit police force,’ says Lieutenant Khald. Since then it has spawned international weightlifters, kickboxers and swimmers. Six years ago they started the bodybuilding team, representing both the police and the Ministry of Interior. They compete against no other officers in the UAE. ‘We are the team,’ says Khald. They are also full-time working policemen.
‘We exercise in addition to our main work,’ explains the Lieutenant. ‘But when there is preparation for a competition, we are given special dispensation to train.’ After that it’s straight back into the routine.
Naturally, the recruitment benefits are not lost on them: ‘Seeing a policeman with a good body should encourage people to join,’ agrees Khald. Of course, among the criminal fraternity it should have the opposite effect. ‘But the aim is not to have a terrifying officer; rather, a stronger image,’ he counters. However, he is not above admitting it would be a fearsome, perhaps life-changing sight to see the three of them running at you.
Each of the men were bodybuilders before they joined the police. Captain Ahmed was on his way to kung fu training in his native Cairo when he passed a local gym and became curious. For Captain Mohammad Youssef it was just a hobby that turned serious. The Lieutenant is perhaps most forthcoming. ‘I started first as a football player,’ he recalls. ‘It was not in my mind that I would become a bodybuilder because of the mentality of the time. These people were using drugs and illegal supplements in order to have these bodies. But I think that mentality has changed now. People just want to be fitter.’
The team is currently in training for a competition in Bahrain. The regime is certainly strict. You have to take care of proteins and carbohydrates, I’m told (presumably that’s where the Mars Bars come in). ‘Everything has to be counted,’ says Khald. ‘We usually eat between five to seven meals a day, but you have to know what you are eating; where it was grown. Everything is calculated.’
I can’t help but wonder though, why the gold paint? I’ve heard of positive thinking, but daubing yourself the colour of the winning trophy seems a tad presumptuous. ‘No, it just shows the muscles and gives them an attractive look,’ the Lieutenant reassures me. ‘It has always been that way since we started the sport. It happens the world over.’
And with that, the interview winds to an end. Once the manly handshakes are over, Khald sidles up to me. He asks if I work out, clearly not trusting his eyes to gauge my tiny physique. As he talks he holds my slender forearm arm in a friendly, but unbreakable grip. ‘You can’t ever know about bodybuilding until you try it for yourself,’ he says. I’d imagine he’s right: the capacity to change your entire body must require enormous reserves of patience and effort. I fear I lack the requisite strengths for either. Earlier Captain Mohammad Youssef had claimed you needed a ‘natural ability’ for this sport – and it is a sport. Alas, I think I come up short. Thank goodness, then, for those boys in blue.
