From enfeebled to empoweredPart III
10 February 2006If you're new here, you may want to subscribe to my RSS feed. Thanks for visiting!
Betty was sitting in the wings waiting her turn to lift at the Amateur Athletic Union World Powerlifting Championships. I was afraid to talk to her; her emotional state of mind was so fragile that I was afraid to say anything. Julie was talking to Betty in attempt to calm her and alleviate her fears but she had terror in her eyes. It was visible and palpable. Kirk and I talked and set the game plan: I would yell instruction to the ladies as they actually lifted on the platform, mainly telling them when to arise. There is a certain degree of depth that need be achieved in the squat for the lift to be passed by the three officials that sit in judgement of each and every platform attempt. Kirk would escort each of our four lifters (Betty, Amira, Connie and Jen) from the staging area to the platform and give each last minute instructions. I positioned myself stage-left and would yell up! when our lifter had achieved the requisite depth. I was positioned and ready when Bettys name was called. Kirk walked her to the edge of the lifting platform whispering last minute technical instructions. As she strode onto the raised lifting platform and approached the barbell set in the squat rack, she hesitated. The TV cameras were rolling. The stern judges sat ready and the audience, sensing something amiss, collectively sat up. My stomach churned, I thought she was going to turn around and walk offit was too much for her and she was cracking under the pressure. She told me later, Marty, I was so scared as I approach the barbell. Every fiber in my being screamed quit! Turn around and leave I thought I was going to throw up right on the platform. The only thing that kept me from turning around and leaving was that I disappoint so many people. So I went ahead and lifted.
Back in real time, tears formed in her eyes. She took a breath and stepped forward. She decided to deal with her fear. She dipped under the barbell, stood up and stepped back. The head referee gave her the signal to squat and down she went. Down, down, down! I yelled. She hesitated at the bottom still shy of legal depth by a good three inches. DOWN MORE BETTY! I yelled. She heard and took it down another two inches. She could go no further and stood up effortlessly. In my opinion the lift, borderline at best, would be turned down. This would be devastating and likely send her into a tailspin from which there would be no recovery. Three judges pass judgement on the legality of each and every lift. To my gleeful surprise two white lights and one red light appeared. Kirk and I jumped five feet straight up into the air. Hell I was more excited about this attempt than when Karwoski had shattered the IPF world record in the squat with 1003 back in 1996. Relieved, elated and thankful, I had to recover and recalibrate all in an instant because Amira, my second lifter, was now up to bat. She hadnt been able to perform a legal squat during our backstage warm-up. A study in contrast, Amira positively beamed as she walked to the squat bar. Smiling throughout the lift she sank down effortlessly to legal depth and stood erect just as effortlessly: three white lights! Joy to the World! Incredible! A few lifters later Connie came out and destroyed her opener. Jen did likewise. I thought I heard celestial music.
All three women made successful second and third attempt squats: Amira ended with a 77-pound effort, Betty squatted a three-white light 105-pound third attempt quite remarkable considering she was unable to perform a single squat without any poundage 122 days prior. The pugnacious Connie blasted her way through three successes ending with a terrific 154-pound squat. Jen was likewise perfect and posted three perfect lifts: white lights on every lift ending with 165. Now that the jitters were gone, Betty went from trepidation to elation and with each bench press and deadlift began to really enjoy lifting in front of the vocal, supportive crowd. She ended with a 77-pound bench press and a 121-pound deadlift. She pulled a wonderful 154-pound deadlift to completion that was mysteriously and erroneously turned down 2-1. Amira floated through the competition benching 71 and ending her day with a fantastic 154-pound deadlift, thirty pounds more than shed ever attempted in her life. Her smile was infectious and she loved the competitive environment from 1st warm-up until last deadlift. I was flabbergasted by her 154-pound deadlift. Connie is a lifting terminator who will go far in this odd offbeat sport: she bench pressed 132 and deadlifted 165. Her balanced lifting and exemplary technique doubly surprising because she was nursing a back injury that had prevented her from training properly the month leading up to the competition. Jen came back to make a clutch 110 bench press after missing it on her second. She is a deadlift star and pulled 265 with such ease that I requested a 300-pound 4th attempt. Too much time elapsed between her 265 and the 300 pound pull: 35-minutes and she grew cold and lost her edge. I predict she’ll deadlift 400 (thats no typo) in a year.
The gals were deservedly elated: each captured 1st place in their respective age and weight division. To make a great day even better, Lorrie, who decided to lift in this competition at the last possible moment, won 1st place in the bench press division of her age and weight class. She came back to make a clutch 2nd attempt bench press with 110-pounds after missing it badly on her opening attempt. She needed the 2nd lift and gutted it out when anyone else would have quit. Afterwards I told her the attempt was so tough and so long that had an errant house fly happened to have landed on the barbell during her excruciating attempt the whole thing would have collapsed like a building being dynamited. That night we went to the hotel restaurant bar and met with webmaster Lee Nazal, TV camera ace Hilary Wright, Marc, my girl Susan and my soul mate Stacy. Julie and Kirk and a host of lifters and families were clustered. Many a glass was hoisted in toast and many plans and schemes hatched. It had been an nerve-wracking, exhausting, exhilarating, ultimately invigorating experience and a fitting exclamation point to a 120-day project that commenced with five totally untrained individuals, none of whom had ever lifted a weight in their lives and culminated with four championship medals and a 3rd place. What a strange, crazy convoluted trip
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