Have you ever had one of those days when nothing seems to go right? A day when the boss turns you down for a raise, when co-workers annoy you, when customers don't buy (and if they do, they don't pay for it) that day. A day when clients don't take your advice... in fact, nobody listens to you and everything you touch turns to crap. A day when you get home and everything that goes wrong is blamed on you. A day when your kids will not behave, your spouse is livid and you don't know why, and your dog won't listen to anything you say...
We have all had days like that. We only hope that they are few and far between.
On the other hand, there are days when everything goes right and you can do no wrong. Everything you touch turns to gold. You're in the zone at home, at work, and in the weight room. Every load you put on the bar goes up. This is a day for PRs.
I was very fortunate to have one of those great days on Saturday, December 8, 2012, in Hickory, NC at the IPA Carolina Powerlifting Championships. I had tried to prepare for this meet ever since the last IPA meet on September 29, 2012, down in Columbia, SC. On that date, I had a respectable—not great—meet. I found out there were no world records in my age group and weight class, and I established four world records that day by filling a void. I was very happy and proud of the records, but I didn't feel a great sense of accomplishment. I had merely filled a void. Had I not had a respectable meet, there would have been no sense of accomplishment at all. I would not be satisfied until I broke all of the records.
I trained very hard after the Columbia, SC meet, always being mindful of what I wanted and needed to accomplish. I was eminently concerned about my squat depth that had caused me problems in the past, so I began using a lower box on my squats and only fell off of it once. Since I only have one set of chains and one set of bands, I used both when training all of my lifts. I also made limited use of my slingshot. I had goals I had to make, and I did. I was reasonably pleased with my progress, and I approached the meet with a quiet confidence... but not free of doubt.
Saturday arrived, and it was cloudy and overcast. I was up at 6:00 a.m. and cooked breakfast. I then made protein shakes for the day and packed snacks in my cooler. I also checked and re-checked my gear. My daughter, who had planned to go with me, arrived just in time to leave, and we arrived in Hickory at 8:30 a.m. on the dot. The rules meeting had already begun; however, I had fortunately weighed-in, gave my opening lifts, and obtained my monolift settings on Friday.
It was a very big meet with over 60 lifters and only one platform. So I knew that it was going to be a very long day. There were some very large and muscular looking young men—both lifters and non-lifters, and I was impressed that most of the people there (both men and women) sported some elitefts™ gear—from shirts and sweatshirts to belts and wraps, elitefts™ was widely represented.
I was in the first flight, as usual, with the young kids, the pretty young ladies, and a few burly old guys. I was careful to get as low as I could on my first squat and 285 pounds went up very easily. I was in the meet! I could get a total! The next attempt (305 pounds) also went up reasonably easy, I was just concerned with whether my ass was low enough... but white lights! It was a respectable squat, and I had tied a world record. In my mind I knew I could squat 325 pounds, but I had never done it in competition. As I prepared to get under the bar, Donnie Thompson, who was announcing the meet, really got the crowd pumped up and he screamed at me. My daughter, Melany, was right in front of me, screaming and filming. Again, my biggest concern was getting my ass low enough. I repeated the mantra in my head that I learned from Donnie: "If you set it up right, it will go up right." I set it up as best I could, got my ass low... white lights! It was a new PR for me and a new world record! I had no idea how I would do the rest of the meet, but I was already a happy camper—I had accomplished something.
As expected, it took forever to finish all three flights of squats. I was cold, stiff, and wanted to take a nap. And I had already eaten a protein bar and had a protein shake.
Bench-only guys began the bench press, and those guys put up some impressive numbers. My flight was next—again, the kids, the ladies, and the old guys. But the worst part is... I cannot bench press! Fifty years ago I had a very good bench press. It was my favorite lift, and I even won a few contests. However, now, with a shoulder that needs replacing, I pretty much bench just to stay in a meet. No federation allows just a squat and a deadlift. While warming up, I noticed a young lady that I knew from the IBP using some blocks under her feet. Because I am just as short as her, and I was planning on using plates under my feet, I asked if I could warm up with her blocks. She graciously allowed me to do so and offered to let me use them in the competition as well. They ended up being a life saver. I didn't have to screw around with awkward plates that never feel right. The blocks were perfect—two 13-inch pieces of 2X8 screwed together with a non-skid surface glued to each side. They allowed me to use my feet correctly, and I got a new PR and set a new world record. After that, I was spent and was ready to go home.
I retired to my chair, ate another protein bar, had some protein shake, and tried to nap sitting up... but to no avail. After an actual forever, it was time to warm up for the deadlift. My plan was to do 315 pounds as a final lift, but I had done that before. Why not try 320 pounds (a new PR)? I opened with 275 pounds, and I had a total. For my next attempt, I went for 300 pounds. And it was hard. As we say in Gastonia, "I was wore slap out!" I was out of gas. By that time, the 320 pounds seemed like a pipe dream... but I asked for it anyway. The mind can make the body do some unusual things. This may sound a little hookey, but I recently had a young Brittany dog of mine die unexpectedly ( a long story). In my mind, and for a few weeks during training, I had planned to dedicate this meet to him. I had mourned him almost as if he were my own child. As I approached the bar, I heard the crowd and my daughter, and I said to myself, "This is for you, Bubba." It took a while to stand up with that 320-pound load, but stand up I did. It was another new PR and a new world record. NOW I had a real sense of accomplishment.
At all the other meets I have attended, "Best Lifter" awards usually went to the really good guys. When they called my name for the master's division, I was flabbergasted! A little old man like me? "Best Lifter?" What a day! At about 9:00 p.m. we headed home, tired and hungry... but happy as hell. Maybe it's time for me to retire... but now I am more concerned with whether or not I can just get out of bed long enough to go to the kitchen to get some food.