You know
that saying that is attributed to Mark Twain, “It’s not the size of the dog in
the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog”? I have a question. No
seriously, I have one.
What if both are important?
One day past Old School Iron Wars and that is something I have been thinking about since well before the meet. I’m a big woman, no sense denying it because it’s true. I take up space and a good amount of it. More than that though I have a tremendous amount of fight inside. I might be quiet, but don’t think I am not a fighter. You may have heard watch out for the quiet ones before and it’s good advice. I may not say much, but I am not complacent and content to stay the same. I’m not who I want to be when I grow up yet.
I can’t just give up and walk away. I may walk away, but that shouldn’t be taken as a sign that I’ve given up. Walking away allows me to gain perspective and sometimes I have to be told in a rather stern voice to walk away.
What if both are important?
One day past Old School Iron Wars and that is something I have been thinking about since well before the meet. I’m a big woman, no sense denying it because it’s true. I take up space and a good amount of it. More than that though I have a tremendous amount of fight inside. I might be quiet, but don’t think I am not a fighter. You may have heard watch out for the quiet ones before and it’s good advice. I may not say much, but I am not complacent and content to stay the same. I’m not who I want to be when I grow up yet.
I can’t just give up and walk away. I may walk away, but that shouldn’t be taken as a sign that I’ve given up. Walking away allows me to gain perspective and sometimes I have to be told in a rather stern voice to walk away.
Most
recently the order came while I was squatting. Not my favorite back squats, but
front squats so I could practice exploding out of the hole. I may have
mentioned before that I don’t like front squats, so to be told I was going to
do them wasn’t welcome news. Coach D did put chains on the bar so that was fun.
Plus to me there is just something that looks super badass about doing anything
with chains on a bar. Yeah, I really do need to get out more.
Anyhow, back to the story. There I was, I don’t know how many reps into a set and I tried to come up from the squat and just couldn’t make it. Since the entire set felt like it had been something close to the worst set I’d ever done I didn’t take that well. I do believe I screamed an obscenity and hit the bar.
Side note: Don’t bother to hit a barbell. It won’t feel it and you’ll end up with another bruise to remind you that your common sense is lacking.
Then the worst happened, my eyes started to well. Oh good, tears…because coaches just love tears and they add to the humiliation. Coach D is good, he looked at me, didn’t bat an eye or blink and said in a matter of fact voice “Take a walk”. I was probably gone longer than he expected, but when I came back I finished the set with a lot more success and went on to at least one more.
So what happened on that “walk”? I found the fight. Yeah I was doing something I don’t do well, I wasn’t excelling, but that didn’t mean I could start crying and walk away. Quitters walk away: I am NOT a quitter. I had to look at myself in the mirror stare at the red nose and cheeks, the swimming eyes and remind myself there was so much more fight inside.
There was a point during the meet on Sunday I almost forgot the fight inside and walked away. I failed my first squat. Nothing more serious than not getting to depth, but in that moment I was sure it was a sign I was going to suck all day. My friends would be disappointed in me, but at that moment it didn’t matter a bit: I wanted to leave.
One of my very best friends was acting as my coach and she met me at the table where I needed to give my next attempt. She suggested I try the same weight again and I said no, I wanted to go up, maybe not as much as Coach Dane and I had planned, but I was going up in weight. Her thought had merit and I considered it, but I knew what I had to do. I had to go up in weight, I had to SLOW down and I had to make my next two attempts the best squats I had ever done. I gave my second attempt and then I stepped back and observed. I watched the other women squat and I noted the results.
My second attempt came and I walked to the platform focused on what I had to do. I set my grip and got under the bar, no more games I told the nasty inner critic and I brought the bar up. The inner critic wanted me to focus on the spectators, mostly people I didn’t know. I told her no more of that. No more games, no more worry. No. More. Then I took my steps back, because contrary to what I wanted to believe at my first meet, you can’t actually squat if you are still in the rack: it just won’t work. I let the weight settle on my back and reminded myself this was less than I have squatted at Pride and I had more spotters than I’d ever had at Pride: if I got in trouble they would take the bar and I was safe. Then I nodded. I got my command and I squatted. It felt maybe a fraction of an inch deeper, but it was enough and it was declared good.
Time for the third attempt weight selection. I was pretty sure I could PR, but not 100% positive, so I opted for a “safe weight”: 303.13 pounds. I’d done more at Pride, but it was close to my current PR of 305 and I wanted to build my confidence. Attempt three went off without a hitch and the beast stirred. I really have to learn to get her going before the meet starts…
Bench Press was next, unarguably my weakest event, though I’m making nice gains with more specific training and one session a week dedicated to bench pressing. There are moments during those training sessions I’d gladly bench press Coach Dane to make it stop, but all the training paid off and I set a new PR of 209.44 pounds. The beast came to for real during that third bench press. I felt like someone flipped a switch. I joked with Dane that I nailed that attempt because my favorite lift was next. I nailed that attempt because there was no way I was missing it. Maybe it’s egotistical, but I knew I could do it. I was going to show Coach Dane the time he has invested in training me was worth it.
On to the Deadlift and the beast was roaring. She wanted out and she wanted out in a big way. No secret that the deadlift is my favorite lift. My first attempt was a little rough. I have a bad habit of rushing. So far it hasn’t been catastrophic, but I need to stop it before it backfires in a big way. The second attempt was much better and my third attempt felt the best of all three pulls. I set a new PR of 413.36 pounds yesterday. I probably had more in me, but I wasn’t 100% positive that I did so I stuck with something I was pretty sure I could pull. One of these times I will throw caution to the wind and just go for it. I don’t have anything to lose. Go big or go home, right?
One year ago I entered my first powerlifting meet. Yesterday I completed my third. Now I’m looking ahead, deciding on a new federation with the help of my coach and continuing to train so I can be even better and more confident when I stand on the platform the next time.
Anyhow, back to the story. There I was, I don’t know how many reps into a set and I tried to come up from the squat and just couldn’t make it. Since the entire set felt like it had been something close to the worst set I’d ever done I didn’t take that well. I do believe I screamed an obscenity and hit the bar.
Side note: Don’t bother to hit a barbell. It won’t feel it and you’ll end up with another bruise to remind you that your common sense is lacking.
Then the worst happened, my eyes started to well. Oh good, tears…because coaches just love tears and they add to the humiliation. Coach D is good, he looked at me, didn’t bat an eye or blink and said in a matter of fact voice “Take a walk”. I was probably gone longer than he expected, but when I came back I finished the set with a lot more success and went on to at least one more.
So what happened on that “walk”? I found the fight. Yeah I was doing something I don’t do well, I wasn’t excelling, but that didn’t mean I could start crying and walk away. Quitters walk away: I am NOT a quitter. I had to look at myself in the mirror stare at the red nose and cheeks, the swimming eyes and remind myself there was so much more fight inside.
There was a point during the meet on Sunday I almost forgot the fight inside and walked away. I failed my first squat. Nothing more serious than not getting to depth, but in that moment I was sure it was a sign I was going to suck all day. My friends would be disappointed in me, but at that moment it didn’t matter a bit: I wanted to leave.
One of my very best friends was acting as my coach and she met me at the table where I needed to give my next attempt. She suggested I try the same weight again and I said no, I wanted to go up, maybe not as much as Coach Dane and I had planned, but I was going up in weight. Her thought had merit and I considered it, but I knew what I had to do. I had to go up in weight, I had to SLOW down and I had to make my next two attempts the best squats I had ever done. I gave my second attempt and then I stepped back and observed. I watched the other women squat and I noted the results.
My second attempt came and I walked to the platform focused on what I had to do. I set my grip and got under the bar, no more games I told the nasty inner critic and I brought the bar up. The inner critic wanted me to focus on the spectators, mostly people I didn’t know. I told her no more of that. No more games, no more worry. No. More. Then I took my steps back, because contrary to what I wanted to believe at my first meet, you can’t actually squat if you are still in the rack: it just won’t work. I let the weight settle on my back and reminded myself this was less than I have squatted at Pride and I had more spotters than I’d ever had at Pride: if I got in trouble they would take the bar and I was safe. Then I nodded. I got my command and I squatted. It felt maybe a fraction of an inch deeper, but it was enough and it was declared good.
Time for the third attempt weight selection. I was pretty sure I could PR, but not 100% positive, so I opted for a “safe weight”: 303.13 pounds. I’d done more at Pride, but it was close to my current PR of 305 and I wanted to build my confidence. Attempt three went off without a hitch and the beast stirred. I really have to learn to get her going before the meet starts…
Bench Press was next, unarguably my weakest event, though I’m making nice gains with more specific training and one session a week dedicated to bench pressing. There are moments during those training sessions I’d gladly bench press Coach Dane to make it stop, but all the training paid off and I set a new PR of 209.44 pounds. The beast came to for real during that third bench press. I felt like someone flipped a switch. I joked with Dane that I nailed that attempt because my favorite lift was next. I nailed that attempt because there was no way I was missing it. Maybe it’s egotistical, but I knew I could do it. I was going to show Coach Dane the time he has invested in training me was worth it.
On to the Deadlift and the beast was roaring. She wanted out and she wanted out in a big way. No secret that the deadlift is my favorite lift. My first attempt was a little rough. I have a bad habit of rushing. So far it hasn’t been catastrophic, but I need to stop it before it backfires in a big way. The second attempt was much better and my third attempt felt the best of all three pulls. I set a new PR of 413.36 pounds yesterday. I probably had more in me, but I wasn’t 100% positive that I did so I stuck with something I was pretty sure I could pull. One of these times I will throw caution to the wind and just go for it. I don’t have anything to lose. Go big or go home, right?
One year ago I entered my first powerlifting meet. Yesterday I completed my third. Now I’m looking ahead, deciding on a new federation with the help of my coach and continuing to train so I can be even better and more confident when I stand on the platform the next time.
You all
know I want to get to a one thousand pound total so where do I stand now?
Squat: 303.13
Bench Press: 209.44 pounds
Deadlift: 413.36 pounds
Meet total: 925.93 pounds
Squat: 303.13
Bench Press: 209.44 pounds
Deadlift: 413.36 pounds
Meet total: 925.93 pounds
The total
for my PRs is 927.8 pounds. I am closing in on 1000 pounds. I’ll get there.
Now a few pictures and I’ll let you get back to your evening. There is a lot of fight in this dog. Stay tuned.
Now a few pictures and I’ll let you get back to your evening. There is a lot of fight in this dog. Stay tuned.
 |
| Post meet photo with my Coach, Dane Martin. He's an amazing guy. |
 |
| Deadlift PR of 413.36 pounds. The bar looks like it's bending to me. LOVE THAT. I was also letting out quite a yell at this moment. |
Thank you for reading!
No comments:
Post a Comment