The thing about powerlifters is, they’re bloody lovely people.
Everyone I’ve met, from trainers, to record holders, to newbie lifters, have been lovely. They’re all keen to help you, to talk to you, to encourage you.
And, as you’d expect, that extends to helping out charity – so even though I’m still a newbie, the chance to take part in a charity deadlift competition Give the Homeless a Lift was always going to be snatched up. (Pun intended. If you know, you know).
As someone who has had a close relative experience homelessness through no fault of their own, it was doubly important to me to enter. It’s easy to forget that the majority of those who are homeless are in the situation due to circumstance. Austerity cuts have reduced help available to those with mental health issues, benefits, access to combat addiction – and it’s said that most of us are only three wage packets away from losing our own homes.
Entering was a no brainer.
And so a bright Sunday morning saw me heading up to the Green Quarter, to the Fighting Fit Martial Arts Centre, for weigh in. As with all competitions, weigh in happens before the competition to determine your weight category, and although this was much more relaxed than an ‘official’ competition, IPF rules were still in force.
Weigh in, and bag of lifting fuel (yay sweets!) in hand, myself and Krastyo my back-up PT, and his client Sarah, headed up the road to 22 RedBank for breakfast.
Well you would wouldn’t you?
One Heart & Graft coffee, and one Manc Muffin with (takes deep breath) bacon, sausage, egg, hash brown, cheese and Hollandaise sauce later, and yeah, I was ready.
I do love a hash brown.
Competitions are always a little bit ‘hurry up and wait’ – and this was no different – your actual time taking part is probably around 15 minutes. While we waited, we bought cakes from the cake stand with treats from The Bikini Baker, and cheered on those in the flight before us.
Now I must admit, I wasn’t the best prepared for this competition. Two days before the last one, we’d changed by lifting stance, but due to recovery and my holiday, we’d not had chance to test how heavy I could lift. So I played it safe. A bit.
My first, 85kg, was easy.
So I went as heavy as I’d ever lifted in the gym. 92.5kg. Yep, no problem.
So time for a personal best. 100kg.
Umm yeah. Apparently I made that look easy peasy too. There’s more in the tank, and this holds me in good stead for my next competition – No Dumbelles in July. I’m really looking forward to finding out what my ‘new’ max is.
As our flight ended, more cake was needed. Obviously.
We watched and cheered the next flights through, including a cracking 300kg lift, while scoffing flapjack and brownies, and entering the raffle for fitness goodies. And then ate more cake. Because cake.
In the end, over £1700 was raised for The Booth Centre, and as I write, I think the organiser is still counting contributions. So, er Kim? When can we it again please?