The story so far

In which I provide a bit of background about me, about starting to lift, and what happens next.

I am not a lifelong athlete—I’m a late starter, a very late starter, with a lifelong disability. I finally found my sport in my mid-forties, after decades of sitting on the sidelines. But when I found powerlifting, it was love at first lift, right from that first wobbly struggle to move the bar. And in the four and a half years since I’ve started, powerlifting has changed my life, and given me a level of strength, mobility, and hope I never imagined.

This time ten years ago, I had just had a set of new hardware installed–a proximal femoral replacement–to fill the gaps after a raging bone infection, several failed hip replacements and who knows how many previous surgeries since the age of two (I lost count at 20). I’m held together with titanium, scar tissue, my surgeon’s skill, and bloody mindedness. It was a slow recovery, taking two months to stand, then almost five years until I could walk up stairs, and five years to be able to walk a mile in one go. But that was a mile more than anyone ever expected. After I was diagnosed with the infection, it looked like it was game over for walking.

I spent the next few years feeling sorry for myself. Somehow, gradually, I let myself become a lardy sofa-slug who thought it was OK to hide, and OK to use my physical limits as an excuse for laziness. I’d done some exercise before—swimming, and tedious gym plodding—but always let it drop because I was too busy, too tired, too “oh what’s the point I’ll always be rubbish” defeatist. That was an old habit– I wasn’t the kid who was picked last for the team, I was the kid who was told to sit in the corner and read and not get in the way of the others. I’d tricked myself into believing I was OK with that.

And then I’d had enough of that. So I started swimming again. Every day. Tiny amounts to begin with, and then a little bit more, and more. Realising I needed to be stronger to swim more, I started in the gym. And found something much more interesting to do than churn up and down a pool.

I admit that it was intially largely the the contrariness of doing something so very unexpected: the wee, wonky, middle-aged woman limping and lurching past the treadmills and getting down to work in the free weights area.

Competitions and results

I’ve been lucky, with the support of friends who have taught me how to lift (thanks Lou!), encouraged me to compete, encouraged me to keep going, and cheered me on as I progressed.

It was with that support that I first competed in 2013. It was not my greatest glory–I got just one lift out of three attempts, almost got disqualified for swearing on the platform, and didn’t even press my own body weight.

I was so disappointed, I worked harder. And soon moved on to compete at National and International level in able-bodied powerlifting—representing Britain at the IPF World Raw Bench Press championships in South Africa in 2016.

I’ve set a few Scottish and British bench press records along the way–holding Masters level records with Scottish Powerlifting, and Open age categories with the British Drug Free Powerlifting Association.

On the para-powerlifting side, I’ve done a few opens, and three Nationals, but not yet made it to an international. That’s the next big step for me.

 

update: I’m going to the 2017 Para Powerlifting World Championships!

Along the way

I’ve bumped into a whole pile of challenges along the way: from learning to think about my body and its capabilities in entirely new ways, how to my relationship to food,  how to be coached, andhow to learn physically rather than academically, to juggling serious training with full time work, studying, and caring for a sick parent. You can expect to see the odd post about this sort of thing here.

What’s next

I’ve slowly and steadily increased my numbers, but to get to the next level, I have started working with a coach to build my strength, focusing on increasing my international ranking in para-powerlifting.

So, next up is Mexico, in October.

I hope you’ll join me on the journey.

 

Got any questions?

Drop me a line.