In which I am overwhelmed by kindness and support, and count my blessings, and think a little about the multiple strands that weave together over the years.
I have been overwhelmed by kindness and support in the past few days, since I launched the crowdfunding to help me get to the World Para Powerlifting Championships in Mexico City. At lunchtime today, this tipped over my initial £1200 goal. Because sponsorise runs all or-nothing funding, meeting this goal means that I will receive all the contributions, including everything over that £1200.
The cost of my flights and my entry fee are now covered. I’m going. I’m going to Mexico.
British Weightlifting’s official news release with the announcement of the team for the Worlds.
Because of the the generosity of family, friends, friends-of-friends, and complete strangers, I will be able to take part in one of the biggest Para Powerlifting competitions.
Thank you!
It’s not just the financial contributions that means so much to me, but the encouragement and the belief. I have had support from people I’ve not seen in lifetimes–not just counting the passage of time since I’ve seen them, but whole worlds of living ago. People I worked with back when the web was shiny and new and built by hand, people I met through collaborative sites and communities. People who know me from the distant past as a student, as a colleague, a photographer, a student (again), as well as people I see every week, people who have known me from all the various paths we’ve walked through these years. I never imagined I’d be in this place, and I can’t imagine they did either.
No one would have expected me to become a competitive powerlifter.
Not even five years ago. It’s still not five years since I first tried lifting, and fell in love with it. This is one of the things that keeps amazing me: just because you didn’t take up a sport early in your life, it doesn’t mean that it’s too late. Just because you always hated taking part in sports, it doesn’t mean you can’t love one when you find the one that brings you joy.
And the list of support above doesn’t include that of my fellow lifters–people I’ve trained with, learned from, competed with, begged spots from, yelled at to get off my damn bench already, admired, and compared notes with along the way.
One of things about powerlifting that has always amazed me is how supportive people are. My first competition was a revelation, as I realised that people were yelling and cheering their competitors to fight to get lifts–even when it meant they were about to be beaten if that lifter they were cheering for succeeded. These are people who have given generously with their time, knowledge, friendship and emotional energy: to work with someone, to improve their technique, to listen, advise, mock, and to be there for training, to drive to competitions, and confiscate my snacks when I’m making weight. You know who you are. I’ve been incredibly lucky to have had your support, in all its forms. Thank you.
(And now I seem to have something in my eye. I thought hayfever season was over…)
So, here’s Joe Cocker, at Woodstock: