I swear it gets smaller every time I wear it.
Saturday was the Wisconsin State Powerlifting meet. Last year's rookie session was my first PL meet and I was terrified. If I hadn't had the support of the 920 Power Club I would never have done something like that. It's difficult to describe how much the support of the team adds to an "individual" sport like PL...at least the support of THIS team. This year was no different. I can honestly say if it hadn't been for the team I probably would've skipped the drive to Racine for yesterday's meet.
I stole this from the FB post.
These people are fun, supportive, and humble in spite of being really (really) good lifters. We laugh, help each other get in and out of lifting belts, scream "squeeze your ass!" at each other...and random strangers. You want a hype squad? This is the best one out there.
I had a rough couple of weeks leading up to this meet. I tweaked my back a month or two ago doing banded deadlifts and since then I've been timid with that lift. My squats went from feeling amazing (including hitting a personal best at 215# in November) to being inconsistent and painful thanks to an inexplicably cranky hip and these stupid varicose veins. The cut to 72kg (from like 74, it's not as though I had to cut a LOT of weight) felt almost insurmountable this time around. Saturday morning I drove through blizzard conditions for almost 3 hours to reach the meet venue. It wasn't going to be my best day.
I can't help feeling like I don't deserve this medal.
Strangely, my squats felt amazing on the platform. I was nervous, but I lowered my opener a bit to make sure I would hit it, and I did. My second squat felt fantastic which was almost confusing because they'd felt so shit for weeks. My third squat would've been a meet PR, but I got red lighted for depth. Coach (and others) said it looked plenty deep so I'm left feeling a little robbed...but even that squat felt perfect.
Bench was another story. I missed a lift I have made 100 times (probably more, actually). I missed it twice. I'd like to blame white-knuckling the steering wheel for 3 hours for this failure, but that's a cop-out. One good thing about that drive? I was so emotionally exhausted after trying not to die that I didn't have the energy to be upset.
I invoked the name of Jesus a few times, and I'm an atheist.
Deadlifts were okay. My opener this year was higher than where I finished last year (at the time that was a lifetime PR) and it came right off the floor with little effort. My second dead was fine, I've hit it before and I will again. The third was sort of a YOLO. It would've been a meet and lifetime PR. It came off the floor, but I didn't have it in me to bring it all the way up to lockout.
A solid deadlift will leave you seeing stars and weak in the knees.
So will other things.
Yesterday's total was 10kg higher than last year's total at the same meet and I was 5.2kg lighter. That's an accomplishment, albeit a small one. More importantly I won my category, scoring 12 points for my team. If I'm proud of anything about yesterday, I'm proud of that.
My competition moniker is "Third Place Amy". Not yesterday at least.
Competing with this Crash of Grhinos is always an enjoyable experience. I came to athletics late in life, so witnessing young women excel at this kind of lifting leaves me in awe. I didn't have the discipline or patience to pursue those kind of goals when I was that age. In addition, there are plenty of women like me who found this sport later...and they are crushing goals and setting records. It's inspirational (and aspirational) for me, but I'm playing the long game. I'll set records when everyone else is dead. Based on my family history, ridiculous longevity is my superpower. Come see me in the 80-89 year old age bracket.
So what were my lessons?
1. You can only do your best on any given day, and that's enough. I knew I was going to have a rough meet but I did it anyway. I didn't give up, I adjusted my expectations. That's being a grown up. Live to fight another day.
2. Lifting is cyclical. You go up, you go down. Progress isn't linear, and a step back now doesn't mean a step forward isn't coming.
3. Life is a lot happier if you can celebrate the successes of your friends as much as you celebrate your own. I am so damn proud of everyone. They accomplished amazing things! I can't wait to see what they do in the future.
So what's next for me? Well, I'm going to stop trying to be 72kg. I'm going to intentionally gain weight in a controlled manner and see where that takes my total. What I've noticed over the last year is that I feel strongest around 74kg. I realize that's only a 5# swing, but it makes a difference. So I'm going to listen to Alex and put weight back on slowly. Maybe that means I'll be 75-77kg at the end of this experiment, but if I'm also squatting 100kg and deadlifting 135kg? IDGAF.
Not dirty bulking, promise.
At the beginning of February, I'm finally getting my leg veins fixed. This means I won't be able to squat or deadlift for 2-3 weeks. I'll get to wear some super sexy compression garments for a while.
I love how they use people with nice legs to advertise these.
Like anyone with legs like this needs medical level compression.
And not just socks. They don't go up high enough. Since I'm lucky enough to have veins all the way up into my ladygarden, I get to wear long line compression underpants (I will not say panties and you can't make me). You know who makes those? Spanx. Fucking Spanx. I swore I'd never put on shapewear again, and here I am.
This will all be worth it when the bloodflow to my legs is fixed. With any luck my squats and deads will be better than ever because the blood that became trapped in that maze of conduits to nowhere will get oxygenated and delivered to the appropriate muscle tissue.
All that blood, just wasted.
While my leg (and ladyparts) recover, I'll focus on the bench press. The stupid fucking bench press. Bring on all the upper body accessories. Lemme get my back in order for tank top season.
I wish I had Trex arms for bench. I'm more like a condor.
The plan is to put competition on the back burner while I eat, recover, and get stronger. Right now I'm hoping for the Wolf Open once again. That would allow me to test out my bigger (hopefully much stronger) physique and compare it to this past summer as well as give me a baseline as I go into my 42nd year.
Only good things coming. Onward and upward.
