elitefts™ Sunday Edition
Growing up, I played a wide variety of sports from basketball to baseball. I loved them. Time progressed and high school neared. My life was going by just as any normal twelve-year-olds—easy and simple. I grew up surrounded by wrestling and football, two sports that were the most talked about in many households. Those two sports seem to dominate the high school and college worlds as well, but I wasn’t that much into them to be honest. Then finally something got at me. Before freshman year of high school started, my family bought a Bowflex machine and then everything fell into place.
I didn’t know it then, but it was the start of something great. And it was something that actually was life changing for the better. I grew up knowing what my mom and dad did before I was born. My mom did bodybuilding with a little bit of powerlifting while my dad was a powerlifter. I remember seeing him chug down protein shakes and wanting desperately to drink them. I thought it was something that I would never get into, at least not in high school. Who knew? Maybe in college. But with that Bowflex machine now in my house, I started to change my thinking.
I remember saying this and, every time I remember saying this, it makes me sink a little. I told my dad that I never wanted to be like those weightlifter guys. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to put forth the effort that was needed of me. To this day, I don't know why, but this is something I do know I needed to change in my life for the better. And with that, not to sound over dramatic, I went to my dad and told him something along the lines of I wanted to learn more.
Powerlifting gates seemed to open from that point on. With the reinforcement I received from my parents and family friends, I learned more workouts on machines. Starting on machines taught muscle movement and how to work different muscles. My dad and I walked into the YMCA, and I went to the leg press machine. I put the rod into the 230-lb plate slot and started doing reps. That day taught me one thing—I have something.
As the months went by, my dad, who would later become the best coach I ever had in my life, started showing me new powerlifting lifts. He showed me how to bench press correctly and how to squat correctly. He saw improvement and I saw it, too. I was happier. I woke up each morning feeling better in life than the day before. The “I can’t do what they do” mentality went away and the “I can do what they do and more” mentality came. The weight I was doing was quite light—a 95-pound bench press in the spring of my freshman year—but that was OK. The iron bug (as my dad called it) bit me and I liked it.
In the summer of my freshman year, my dad progressed to showing me deadlifts. He demonstrated correct technique and stopped me when I was in need of advice on form. The iron bug had bit me again and I wanted to progress more into this sport called powerlifting. I wanted to become something more than myself.
In sophomore year track and field, I squatted 265 lbs, which was the most amount of weight that I had ever done in the little weight room at school. I was happy that the people around me were shocked. I was proud of myself that I had achieved something like that, something that I never thought I would ever do. I wasn’t the 127-lb short distance runner anymore. I was a kid with a dream and I was about to make that dream reality.
That summer, on July 19, I completed in my first true power cycle to qualify for the Iowa State Games, a bench press only event. The guys I worked out with came and watched and my family did as well. I hit a 175-lb bench and got second in my age group (16–19) and first in the raw division. I learned from that meet that I loved this sport and I wasn't about to call it quits yet.
Time progressed. I moved states. I started to gain more strength mentally, spiritually, and physically. I saw changes in how I carried myself. Neither my old high school nor my new high school had powerlifting teams, so I went to meets with my dad by my side to compete. Powerlifting was starting to make a large push into my life. I accepted it with open arms. Since that summer, I have competed in four more meets, landing eight state records in different federations throughout the state of Michigan. It opened the doors to free equipment and awesome shirts and brands to wear proudly. I loved the time that I was pouring into the sport because it changed me for the better.
Due to powerlifting, I met amazing people and influential people who have impacted my life. They were now like my heroes. They were larger than life to other people, but I saw them as people who dedicated their lives to something. I saw them as the friendliest people I think I've ever met. Yes, powerlifters, the friendliest people I've ever met. No one outside of the sport would think that as they're on stage looking psychotic and moving weights that no normal man or woman would ever dream of doing. These people moved me to pursue the sport, to press on, to not stop when adversity became big and bad and was double, triple, or quadruple my body weight. When the going gets tough, it’s time to get tougher.
I never looked at powerlifting in any other way other than that it was a great thing to do. It changed my life. I became a more humble person, and I also became a more helpful person. In school, seeing other students struggle in the weight room with lifting, I knew that I could help them become safer and stronger mentally and physically. Powerlifting wasn’t a sport anymore. It was an education. It taught me how much I could take and that in life, no matter where I was, if there was an obstacle in my way, I could overcome it.
For me, a gargantuan amount of great experiences came out of powerlifting, but there were times when I questioned it and I still do. I’m human. What can I say? I look back on those times when I questioned my lifting and I'm happy that I didn’t stop. From splitting headaches to strained muscles to capillaries bursting under my eyes to other body problems that arose to not being able to sit because I was too sore, I questioned what the heck I was doing and what had made me want to get into this sport. I questioned and I found answers, answers that kicked me in the butt and told me that this wasn't the end. All those moments of doubt weren't the end. Instead, they were new beginnings and learning experiences. Those moments taught me what it feels like when the deck is stacked against you. But you push on and battle it out. It gets better from there.
When I was a kid without any care in the world, I didn't pay any mind to what I would be doing when I was a teenager. All I thought about was being a kid in high school doing some school sport. That’s it. But as time progressed, I learned that life isn’t easy, nor will it ever be. Powerlifting is a test of willpower and just plain power. It's a test to see if you can rip your own barriers right out of the ground and deadlift them into submission, to pour hours and days and months into something that you care about no matter the pain that you will endure along the way because you know it’s all for the better. This is what I have learned and what I'm still learning. This is what I can thank powerlifting for as well as the family, friends, and countless people who helped me through it. That’s my perspective on the sport of powerlifting. It isn't just a sport but a learning opportunity for life in the here and now and of what's to come.