The Truth About Competing

From the outside in, competitive powerlifting seems extremely intimidating, you see muscular men and women in the zone, coaches hitting the lifter on the shoulders in preparation and huge men sniffing ammonia and emerging onto the platform like Bruce Banner transforming into the Hulk and heavy metal music playing in the background.

I am here to write about my personal experience with competitive powerlifting and how it is the most empowering thing you can do plus what to expect when you step up to compete for the first time.

So, my day started with me waking up early to run to the restaurant in the hotel that was near the competition venue to eat breakfast in my singlet before weigh-in. All I could stomach was toast as I was so nervous, after my poor attempt at eating I decided to head over to the venue and find my coach and the rest of the competitors from my gym. The whole room was filled with people of mixed sizes, shapes, and abilities waiting to lift, they called my name for weigh-in, my coach accompanied me to check that I made weight and could compete.

After weigh-in had finished and we started getting called to warm up I decided to take my pre-workout, boy was that a mess. Not realising I had twice my usual dose as normal in my hand, I did my usual dry swallow of the powder, much to the dismay of onlookers who reacted as if I had just inhaled 1kg of cocaine right in front of their eyes. After maybe 5 minutes I started to shake like an excited dog, and just put it down to nerves and tried to ignore my obvious overdose of caffeine.

After a warm-up guided by my coach it was my time to shine, as usual for an opener I played it safe with a weight I have squatted copious amounts of time, somehow I managed to hurt my upper back, following a back massage from a stranger (I think someone else’s coach, still am yet to find out) I was ready for my next lift, that went seamlessly as did the final attempt. After about 20 mins it was my time to bench, the first two lifts were weights I knew I could get, the last weight was one I have only ever failed. Somehow I pulled it out of the bag, I pushed that weight off my chest as if I was lifting a car off of my baby.

Here comes the deadlift, my best lift. My opener and second lift felt and looked like I was just picking up a pen from the floor, very little effort. I was still nervous for my last attempt, this was a weight that I have only lifted once, my dream of going 9/9 seemed miles away. Through the grace of God, I managed to lift my third attempt, I’m not going to sit here and lie to you, it was a grind, but I did it.

I am personally very hard on myself, but it was honestly the proudest of myself I have ever been, prouder than I was graduating from university. Nothing feels better than reaching your goals that you worked so hard for. Through the tears and pain, I did it. I qualified for Nationals.

When you step on that platform, all your thoughts go out of the window. The fear of failing, how awful you feel that you look in your singlet, the fear of all eyes being on you. They disappeared. Powerlifting is the most supportive sport and I am lucky to be a part of it. What you don’t see behind the scenes are competitors cheering each other on, celebrating everyone’s victories no matter how small and picking each other up after losses. Nothing beats that feeling.

I strongly advise anyone who is contemplating competition to just take the leap, you won’t regret it.