Tattooed & Strong 2017

This weekend saw me take part in my first ever powerlifting competition.

I guess I can officially call myself a powerlifter? I’m a newbie, I’m still learning, but I’ve got a great foundation to build on. And more importantly, I’ve gone way out of my comfort zone and stepped onto the stage at a comp. Something which, as I’m learning, a lot of lifters are nervous about doing at any point in their training.

So let’s go back to the beginning.

Why powerlifting? Good question. It was first suggested a couple of years ago and I was caught by the idea. I love weights, I love feeling strong, and it’s another way to challenge myself and see what my body can do. But it wasn’t til the whole stress fracture saga last year that it finally took hold.

The fracture took me away from running. And even after my return everything was slow and steady. It’s taken me months to get back above 10km. Ever keen to get in the gym and strengthen myself, it was spin class (cycling has a lower impact on your feet) and to strengthen my bones again, weights.

Cue a random meeting with my now PT Serge, at the rack and some advice from him, and I was doing more, but better. Deeper squats, adapted techniques, and Serge had me back at full strength and was encouraging me to enter a competition.

You know me. Challenge accepted.

And so preparation began. I just kept lifting. I went from a 40kg maxed out bench, to 50kg reps. From a 70kg deadlift to 92.5kg. I knew I wasn’t going to be lifting the same levels as some (most/all) of those going, but for me that wasn’t important. You don’t enter your first race, whether it’s a 5km or a marathon, intending to win. You need to know what it’s like running with a group (sometimes 1000s) of other people. Learn runners’ etiquette. When you might need a bathroom break, or to rehydrate. What refuels suit you.

This was about the experience.

So let’s get into what it involves. (This is a bit simplified, there is an entire rulebook for everything involved).

A competition usually comprises of three lifts. Deadlift, bench and squat. Each competitor is weighed in and placed into a weight category, and by age – so if you’re over 40, you’re in the Master class. I’m still under, for now, so was simply in the 110kg category (90.01-110kg in weight).

Tattooed & Strong is known as a ‘push-pull’ competition, so was only bench and deadlift. Don’t worry, there are videos of me doing the lifts, so you can see what they look like.

I weighed in, category confirmed, and check the timings for the day. Then we get to the clothing.

Hot right?

So you have a singlet. It’s a solid garment (so going to the loo is a real pain in the arse) and underneath, we’re talking bra, knickers and a t-shirt. Anyone who does bench needs to wear a t-shirt, ladies have to wear one full-stop. The knee socks are for deadlifts, and are there to protect your shins. Whilst I admit, I don’t think I’ve scraped them yet through a lift, you never know. I mean competition = nerves + big weights + sweaty palms. Shoes are up to you, but it’s recommended flat soles for deadlifts anyway, unless you find lifting shoes are beneficial. In training, I tend to deadlift in socks so…

This is for lifting ‘raw’. There is an option for ‘equipped’ this is a whole different ballgame and can include a ‘lifting suit’ which can add a lot to your capacity. For me, raw suits me. I want to test myself, unaided.

So I had the training, I’d been weighed in, I knew my category, I knew what time I’d be lifting, and I had the clothes.

To the day itself.

Uh yeah.

So Tattooed & Strong was part of the Tattoo Tea Party. First lesson learned – lifters could get into the venue half an hour early. Next time go half an hour early. Ah well, that’s what you have a PT for. To do all the panicking and get you into the venue.

Soon we were all sorted and after a brief lie down on the stage to work out where the rack should be set for us (everyone has different arm length after all), it was time to watch. Both myself and Helen (another of Serge’s lifters) were in the second flight, so after the first round, we headed backstage to the warm up area to get ready for our own bench set.

The warm up area, is small, focused and basically has everything you need. Plywood and mats on the floor, barbells, weights and benches. You settle in, start low and work your way up to close to your competition weights. And it gives you the opportunity to meet the others taking part. Chalked up, warmed up, we went to wait our turn.

And that looks something like this:

Your back is arched on the bench, your feet firmly planted directly on the floor, or on planks either side. Some do a full back-bend onto the bench. Some slide under the bar. Some get into position with their feet on it, before securing them either side. Everyone is different.

Three officials watch the lift. If it’s good, white lights. If it’s bad, red. This at 40kg was a good clear white lit lift. The next two weren’t so good. My 50kg lift was raised, but a technical fail, because I reached back with it, instead of up. The last, a never attempted before 55kg, was just a straightforward fail.

I could have been upset about it, but I’m a noob. There’s no point. I’m not a world champ failing, I’m simply learning what I can do, and what the pressure feels like.

The other lifts went ahead, records were broken. We all had a break for lunch – for the afternoon was deadlifts.

My deadlifts have been troublesome. I pulled a muscle in my hip and though it felt better after a full body sports massage days beforehand, mentally, I was worried. In the end, I needn’t have. 80/85/95kg lifts, all white lit, all good.

Again, I was warming up with a British record holder (Charlotte Wareing, look her up, she’s amazing) who was going in for a record on her first lift at 165kg. Mine by comparison were baby sized. But they were good, they were clean and they were done.

I wasn’t going home with medals, but I didn’t expect to. I was thrilled to meet some incredibly inspiring people. We got to watch the awesome Helen (pictured above) fail on a 120kg deadlift – and then go out and put her anger in the bar and lift the same weight. I know what it’s like to hear that ‘nope’ in your head when you go for a lift and battle it back. Sure, she got a technical failure, but it didn’t matter, she lifted that fucker.

In truth, yeah, that’s it, I’m a bit addicted. I loved it. It’s a weird feeling being up on the stage in front of people hearing them shout and cheer, but after the first couple, you learn to drown it out and only hear it when you need it. Much the same as doing race. For me, I loved challenging myself and coming out the other side.

So, next up: A charity deadlift competition in April, Manchester Half Marathon in May, and then No Dumbelles in July.

Let’s see what this body of mine can do.

With thanks to Serge, Helen, Craig, my gorgeous other half and sister who kept me company and every bloody cheerleader I had via Twitter, text message, Facebook and Instagram.

Yeah Rick, I should have done this ages ago. Kick my arse next time x