Pump It Up

For those who have followed this blog from the beginning (I believe there's one of you and you know who you are), you know that I work out--that I like to work out. In fact, I love to work out. And I love lifting weights--the heavier the better. So yesterday was the Arizona Senior Olympics Powerlifting competition. I entered about a month ago. From the day I sent in my money, I kept hoping that something would happen to keep me from competing: an injury or some other catastrophe. I wanted to compete but I was scared. Didn't want to humiliate myself.
So I trained. But not that hard. Trainer went on vacation two weeks ago. Not the best time for her to leave me! I obsessed for weeks about the event. The unknown. Who would be there. How long would it last. Would I embarrass myself.
I have to say that yesterday was one of the best days of my life.
Got to the gym early. Warmed up a bit on the bike. Did a few light bench presses and a couple of squats. People started arriving about 1/2 hour before the event. Met the woman who was my competition. She holds both national and world titles in powerlifting in our age group! She was gracious, charming and incredibly strong. I felt like a wimp.
She was excited to have another woman there because she said it's almost always just men. We were actually the youngest people there--we're both 65.
I just have to say that meeting her was inspirational--motivational! I'll never do what she does. I'm never going to drink myoflex beverages or eat protein gels for snacks or tape myself up or wear singlets. I'm doing this for fun. For a challenge. I don't ever expect to win. I just want to do it. I want the experience.
Her strength was outrageous. Her husband beemed as she squatted 235 pounds. "She can do so much more than that", he whispered to me. "She's the world record holder on the deadlift", he said as she lifted the bar loaded with weight.
Before the competition, she dressed herself in her "magic" outfit: a $1,000 shirt that took ten minutes to get into that is supposed to increase the lift by 50 pounds. Then she drank some foul smelling juice drink, chalked up her hands and put on her game face.
Me? I drank some water. And made jokes because that's what I do.
We both succeeded at all our lifts. Mine were baby weights compared to hers but still my personal best.
She got the gold. I got the silver. We both won! It was a great day. Not at all scary. I'm happy for the adrenaline that came with being anxious because it helped me lift more than I have ever done before.