I have so much to write about this weekend that I decided to split it into two parts. This part will just focus solely on the meet portion of the weekend. With so much happening in 72 hours, I'll need a few days to process and take some time to put it down on paper.
This meet was different than any other event I've ever done. It had a 3 PM start time, which after the multi-ply ran over, it started around 4 PM. At this point, I had ample time to overthink everything and anything to play major mind tricks on myself.
RELATED: Introducing New elitefts Athlete JP Carroll
I had planned on opening with an 850-pound squat. If that went well, I would take 905, and if that worked out, I'd shut it down to conserve energy for a big deadlift. The traffic heading into the Rhodes Center was horrendous, to say the least, again leaving a lot of idle time for my mind to wander. By the time I arrived at the center, I was dropping my opener to 800 pounds. Performance enhancing my rear end, but I 'll cut that short because that's a whole other direction.
Walking into the venue, I headed to the warm-up area to set up camp — if you haven't competed nor been to a meet then you wouldn't understand. I guess it would look like when those weirdos camp out for movies, shoes, video games, etc.
I found a decent spot, dropped my bags, and found where the flights were posted. JP Carroll: 850, last flight, last lifter. Well, fuck me! I just spent the last, however the hell many hours, talking myself out of opening with 850. NO, NO, NO way in hell was I going to now. I earned that spot, I busted my ass for that spot. I don't give a shit what anyone says about ego, judge me. I like that I was that guy. The big dog of the night. Game on.
Squats
Warm ups were smooth with the timing down and the rotation moving. 790 was the last warm up and it moved perfectly — depth and speed were on point. Sitting up on stage, that adrenaline kicks up and you start getting to that place we all go. It's that switch. I swear this rush is probably half the reason we do this. My name was called out, I was wrapped, and "bar's loaded." I walked out on stage in front of 100+ people and I didn't see shit, just a bar with 850 pounds on it. I got under it, got tight, the rack opened, and I knew at that very moment I would blow that lift up. Before anyone could blink, I did just that. The second attempt of 905 went the same exact way — smoke show. Swede and I contemplated on taking the third attempt since the second was so easy, but we decided to stick to the plan.
Bench
The same thing as squats, everything was clicking. I started to feel like this was my day to hit the big total I have been working for, finally. I opened with 495 and it moved the way it should have — 100 mph. I took 535 for a second, and again, 100 mph. The third attempt was 570 which was a meet PR. I blew it the fuck up. At this point, I knew I was on.
Deads
This was a sprint. I ended up taking 3, 4, then 5 plates in about a twelve-minute time span. I was hanging in there, but after a big bench my back was tight so I slathered on some linament and dug in. My last warm up was 625 and it was a joke like everything else. In my years, I've only held one third attempt deadlift ever and it was 711 pounds in 2014. My opening pull was 675 (smoked it), my second was 725 (smoked it), and that left me with that cursed third attempt deadlift. I sat in my seat waiting for my name to get called out. I stared straight ahead and literally like a broken record said to myself over and over, "you rip that damn thing off the floor." I had to have said this at least fifty times. Over the PA system, "bar's loaded." That 775 came off the ground probably faster than my opener — just nasty speed for a third attempt.
The 775 secured me a 2250-pound total, first place, and the heaviest raw total at the XPC finals that weekend. It's about fucking time. So much little dumb shit was holding me back for 14 months. It felt damn good to finish strong. I went 8/8 due to passing on a third attempt squat. I had a 14-pound bench PR, a 20-pound deadlift PR, and most importantly, a 50-pound meet PR!
A great meet with great people to help out. The whole 5thSet squad was there to help with anything I needed all night. All the elitefts crew, MGG guys, and even a couple guys I've competed with against or just know from being around checked in on me and made sure I was good. Swede, Sandy, and Kevin (who competed on the previous day and still wrapped my knees like the young star he is) are my backbones in this shit show of mine lately. With those three, it goes deeper than white and red lights.
Walt Disney once said, "All our dreams can come true if we have the courage to pursue them."
Well, I don't do Disney, so I like to say, "Don't be a pussy, just get that total up."
About fucking time!