Sunday, April 21, 2013

When powerlifting is no longer black and white...

I remember when I first started powerlifting. It was something that had given me goals to shoot for, records to set and a new sense of purpose with my training. I loved that it was black and white: you either made the lift or you didn't. Three whites or reds, it was simple. That was in the beginning. Then you start to see the politics and other bullshit that permeates the sport. I used to think that people that didn't like powerlifters had it all wrong, that deep down we are all there to support and encourage one another, that it is more of an honest sport, if that makes any sense, but truthfully, this sport is packed tight with so many assholes, wannabes and posers it's hard to keep track. At certain meets, it becomes "who you know" in order to skirt the drug testing, whether or not "hitching" on your deadlift is going to get called (even when it's blatant), whether or not your squat depth was enough, and if you bounced the bar off your chest for bench. That isn't what I signed up for. That is not why I busted my ass training. And when all those things start to affect you, it's time to move on. To be honest, it's not just the things I mentioned above that is stopping me from continuing on in this sport, the fact is, it hurts your body after a while, and unfortunately I am not the young spry 25 year old I once was. It takes time to recover, and when you are dreading your training because you are worried about how shitty you will feel the next day, or what injury will continue to plague you, that takes a bit of the joy out of it for me. I want and I need to get back to enjoying training again, and while it may not help me keep state records, at this point I could give a shit. I would rather be able to get out of bed the next morning without taking 4 Advil. To the many people that have continued to flourish in the sport, the ones that take the honest route and have a genuine joy in what they are doing, my hat goes off to you, but for the others that need to pump up on banned substances, wear super suits and give the best blow jobs to their judging buddies, I only salute you with my pretty middle finger. Not that I'm bitter mind you, I'm just not looking at you through rose colored glasses any longer.

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