Believe

For the last several years in addition to setting goals for the year I have borrowed an idea from a wise friend and picked a word to guide me.

For 2018 I have settled on the word believe. If you'll indulge me for a little bit I'd like to share why believe is my word.

During Muscle Hour on Wednesday it was time to determine a squat max so each of us would have a number to work with and determine percentages of going forward. Going into class I felt nauseous and nervous. Almost the same way I feel going into a meet. I didn't understand it, everyone was assuring me I would be fine, I would do great. I wasn't feeling any of that.

I sucked it up as best I could, partnered with good friend, Norm, and got to work. I could not get out of my head for the life of me. Every time I approached the bar that negative loop tape ran loudly through my head and it was all I could do to get the job done.

Finally I got tired of it. I had a stern talk with myself (silently: I was not standing in the corner yelling at myself...though I could have). I LOVE powerlifting. It is my passion. I put in the work week after week to be better. I've cried, bled and pushed myself through workouts I wanted to walk away from to participate in this sport. I weather the nerves and nausea that accompany participating in a meet. So why, when I had the chance to show what I could do was I so hesitant, so scared? I decided maybe my PR song would help the situation so out came the phone and earbuds. I finally felt the beast stir as "Monster" flooded through my ears, shutting down the negative voices.

To make a long story a little less long I set a new PR on Wednesday night. I increased my squat by ten pounds, from 345 to 355. My reaction was less elated and proud and more a release of pent-up fear in the form of tears. I got to depth, came up just fine, racked it with help and leaned into the bar and cried. Tara had taken video for me, she came to give me my phone and a hug and I cried on her shoulder, then I cried on Norm. I pulled myself together enough to give my spotter, Coach Brad, a fist bump. He told me I had more in me and I declined. I told him I'd achieved a 1000 pound total, 1004 pounds to be exact and I was good...then I cried a bit more.

I wouldn't be me if I didn't over think EVERYTHING, so you know I over thought those tears. Why cry when I just hit a goal I've had for a long while? Why not shout it from the rooftops?

The answer is because I did NOT believe it was possible. I never believed I could hit a 1000 pounds three-lift total. my friends believed, my coaches believed, I relied on their belief in me and hoped I would prove their faith in me right.

When I realized that I also realized that from the start of this journey I've grown leaps and bounds, but never one time have I believed in myself. I think it's fine that I don't see what others see in me, but I HAVE to believe in myself. It's not fair to ask my friends and coaches to believe in me enough for all of us.

I love everyone that has supported me in pursuing my passion. I certainly want them to continue coming to my meets, but I need to step up my game. I need to believe in myself, in my strength and my abilities. I don't want to walk to the platform wondering if I can do it, hoping I won't fail. I want to walk to the platform certain that I will give my all and no matter the outcome I've won.

No doubt there will be bumps along the path. It wouldn't be life if everything was smooth sailing. As a friend told me in one of the sweetest, kindest emails I've read recently "Look for blessings in every day, even if on some days you have to look a little harder".

So my word for 2018 is believe. I will believe in myself, in my potential, in my abilities. I will believe that if I want it, if I put in the work and never quit I will make my dreams come true.


Thanks for reading!