Body Image

     Much of the talk today is to overcome our unrealistic beauty standards; especially here in the West where we believe beautiful is Barbie or modern G.I. Joe. I completely support it. We all know companies and media are a big factor to blame in all this, so we can put more money into their products. Though, I have no desire to bore us with that talk. My last blog talked about the scam ads promoting magic pills. For some people it’s a struggle to see that scam and wish it were real. I did. I still do. I love my face and hair and I love the clothes that make me feel confident. My confidence level is through the roof some days… as for other days; it’s through the floor. I began to power lifting because I envied the strength, but in the back of my mind, I wanted to be smaller, too.  That’s were I faltered. When I first began training, I was very back and forth on my training weeks. I would be so determined for two to three weeks and then I’d have zero motivation to do anything but sleep.  I would hate on myself so much during those weeks. I’d think how lazy I am, which would make me want to do it less as I felt too shitty about myself. Eventually, I’d force myself back into it and the cycle continued. My biggest problem is feeling so hopeless. Most of my life, I have been back and forth with my weight in extremes. Right now is the heaviest I've been. Partially due to the fact I've gained new muscle, which is super exciting! Though for the last few months I've kept to lifting. So far, I haven’t let myself quit. I still feel the low. What some people don’t realize is that when you have constantly fought the battle of gaining and losing weight for a long time, you have this epiphany of why do I care anymore? Why should I continue trying when it gets me nothing and I just relapse anyway. I've felt this many times, but I still continue trying because I know I can reach my dream. I want to look into the mirror and love my body! That’s why I’m grateful to my dad for introducing me to power lifting. Without it, I would be fifty pounds heavier today, still feeling bad about myself. I gain a little more confidence every time I come out of the gym. I hope others life me feel this way when they leave the gym or get done doing whatever exercise because even if you don’t see the results right away, it’s progress physically as well as mentally.

Idiots

I was on Facebook the other day when I saw an ad for this miracle diet from Doctor Oz. The girls before and after pictures were familiar to me. I remembered seeing them on a power lifting blog. After a little searching I found the blog. It was about the girl’s success and achievements and all that, but the ad was using her pictures saying she was using a miracle fruit or pill that doesn't exist. This did not in any way surprise me. Though I was shocked at how much positive response there was in the comments. So many women were sucked into it and were talking about buying it. I just couldn't believe it. You could visibly see in the after photo how much more toned and muscular she was compared to her before photo where she had no muscle at all. I guess I was appalled because of that. This ad was claiming she just took a pill and magically became healthy and fit or ‘skinny’ when it tells you right in the girls blog how hard she worked for that. Also, the ad claimed she had lost thirty pounds when actually, she had gained weight from the new muscle mass. It makes me pity them to see how gullible they are. I've had my fair share of being sucked into whatever products, but they make those ads in particular embarrassingly obvious it’s a blatant lie. I've had body issue problems my whole life. I've always hated the extra fat on my body. I've yo-yo-ed with my weight through the years, but I've known there is no such thing as a ‘magic’ pill or ‘super-fruit’. I just wish that people would understand that, too. It takes hard work. Power lifting isn't an easy sport. I've had my days were I just want to quit because it’s unbelievably draining, even for someone who’s been doing it all there lives. Then the other side of the comments were shaming her for how she looked in the after photo. People—primarily women –said things like she looked better in the before photo and the after picture was photo shopped and she’s ugly or a slut. That really pissed me off. There is no excuse for body shaming and please, someone tell me, why people were throwing around the comment ‘slut’. Really?  One person couldn't find anything bad to say about the photos so they just decided ‘slut’ was an acceptable insult and other people grew on that? I’m just flabbergasted about the whole thing. People are so gullible and then so critical it makes my head spin. I hope no one I know falls for these marketing ploys; there stupid, heartless scams.

 

Working on my Fitness

    Thursday night, my dead lift routine consisted of five repetitions of twelve. I moved up weight from 155 to 165. I had few problems considering my slacking off training the past two weeks. Once I was done I decided to head for the gym for some cardio and more work on abs that I couldn't do in my garage. Well, I guess I could have, but I’m paying for the gym membership.

    I've been to a few different kinds of gyms. I went to New Body for a while. It was close to home and my father used to go. It's not a mainstream gym. The people there are some sort of athletic and hardly any of them came in groups. A few female power lifters came in and in a very not creepy way... I stalked them a tad. Just to see if I could get any new routines from watching. I wasn't the old man in the window, promise. Everybody kept to themselves. As for interior design, the place was white and black with dumbbells, barbells, machines, and few elliptical's and treadmills. Mirrors replaced the one side of wall, of course. The atmosphere was focused. I was in my own little, invisible bubble, just like everyone else. Few people were actually ever there in the mornings, too, which may be part of it. Eventually, I stopped going because the monthly membership fee was too much for me.

   Months later, flyers were all over the local mall about a new gym, Planet Fitness. I was curious because their membership was only ten dollars a month and you only had to put one dollar down when you signed up. That was much more do-able for me than having to pay thirty dollars a month at New Body.  I signed up and as soon as I walked in I felt dazed and confused. There were so many machines, elliptical's, treadmills, stair climbers, and etcetera that I was clueless on what to do for the next week. Eventually, I decided on a routine after looking like an idiot figuring out how to work half of the machines. The interior is purple and yellow with large fans protruding from the black ceiling. Something alone the lines of “Judgment free zone” are stuck to their walls in large, 3-D print. That’s their motto, but sometimes that’s not how the atmosphere feels at all depending on what kind of people are at the gym. There are the elderly and younger adults in the mornings to mid afternoon and then there’s the people who eat, sleep, and breathe gym and another mix of adults who just got out of work in the evening. I’m the person who goes in at that transition time. The morning to mid afternoon people have very cardio based routines only. Hardly anyone is in the small area set up for weight lifting. I like having the weight lifting area near desolate because it makes me feel better as I’m pretty self-conscious when I work out. It’s so hard for me to get myself to the gym around that time, though. I’m just so much of a night person, but the atmosphere at night is more hostile than in the morning. I know I’m being watched and criticized. The weight area and ab area are always over filled, too which messes up my routines. The morning and mid afternoon is a much better environment, though my lack of motivation is strong. If I don’t have to leave my bed, I don’t. That’s a big problem for me to overcome. Although, I know I can do it. I just need a kick in the butt.   

Fire up!

During meets, I see many of the guys smacking each other as hard as they possibly can anywhere they can get their hands on. (Besides very sensitive places) I was at a meet this August and I saw this happening almost every single time a male went up on the platform. One guy smacked his buddy so hard on the top part of his back that the hand print welt was purple and almost bruised looking. I shuddered in my seat, but the guy just grunted loudly and excitedly ran to the bench. Seeing that welt made me feel pain, too, and I couldn't imagine being hit that hard for the sake of getting 'fired up'. Power-lifting isn't the only sport that you see this in. Football, baseball, wrestling, etc, all have guys hitting their team mates in an attempt to get them pumped up. Now, I say male only because the woman at the meet did more of a pat on the back or light smack on the shoulder or butt or nothing at all. In my experience of being on girl-only teams and watching girl-only sports such as softball, I've never seen another girl hit their friend as hard as possible. Sure, sometimes I'd get a swat on the back or butt during games in high school, but never to the extent that males take it.  Seeing that pattern made me wonder if there was more to it than just the psychological aspect.

    While I was sitting in my seat contemplating this thought, a woman about 23 years old came over to sit in the last available seat next to me. While waiting for the spotters to finish racking the bench for the next lifter, she started chatting with me. After going through generalities about our basic information, I wondered aloud to her about why these men would smack their friends so hard. She told me that the hard smack was a shock to their system, primarily nervous system. I was skeptical. So what? and what was her credibility? She began to explain about her working at the University of Michigan and is going to school for bio-psychology. I learned that most of the guys keep ammonia sticks in their bags and just before their big attempt, they sniff the stick. The ammonia causes the body to release a large amount of adrenaline, which is the alert system of the body. Basically, it's like cheap crack. This, coupled with the hard slap, makes you pretty much numb to any pain for the next twenty to thirty seconds. Therefore, the lifter can go 'all-out' without the crippling consequence of pain. I was astonished. I had seen the lifters cup their hands to the nose before, but who the hell would've guessed a stick of ammonia was the reason. Not only that, but how strange. When anyone hits their fellow lifter or team mate, that attempt to numb them isn't what's going through their head. Well, maybe for some. Though, I think most people do it just for the sake of helping their buddy get fired up.  

How to start

    A common myth about a power-lifting is that you have to be a big person to do it. Wrong. Anyone can successfully do this sport. Even if you only want to become stronger and healthier, this is a great way to achieve that. It's not easy, but the workouts won't let you down in the long run. The 'how-to' of starting is simple.

    First of all you should choose a gym centered on weightlifting. Depending on where you live, there may be a gym dedicated to only power-lifting, and if there is, that's a perfect place to sign up with. The reason being there are less treadmills, elliptical's, and other cardio equipment. In a gym like Planet Fitness, there audience seems to be more centered around people who are trying to lose weight. There free weights, squat racks, etc, are limited to one small portion of there gym. Compared to a gym that's completely focused on lifting weight. 

    Once you find a gym, you want to begin training on a power-lifting based routine. If you're lost on that there are many templates you can follow. For instance, the Westside template and the 5/3/1 philosophy are tried and true. You can also use those templates as a starting place for building your own routine. In basic terms, you want to focus on low repition training of the squat, bench, and deadlift. In between that you want to do some high-rep accessory training, like ab workouts. 

     Before you get too deep in training you'll want to figure out which federation you'd like to lift in. There are more than 30 different federations that all have different rules and allow the use of different equipment. I was given the advice by my father and some other lifters I've met to start off 'raw'. This means I do not use squat, bench, and deadlifting shirts, which are spandex type clothing that gives a kick back when worn, or other gear such as a knee wraps, etc. Raw federations do not allow those shirts to be worn or the use of knee wraps while Gear Federations do. It's better to start off raw and than choose a few years down the road to train in gear or stay raw. 

     Lastly, take part in a competition. This is not necessary if you're not into competition, but it's good for personal growth. You can see how you fair against others and see you're progress out in the open. Plus, it's fun. You get to hang out and compete with friends and strangers and meet new people. If you do well, you can go home, celebrate, and you get bragging rights. If you don't do well, than you know exactly what you need to work on in the gym to become better. 

Crazy face

     I used to always be babysitting children. From infants to pre-teens... the age didn't matter. My favorite thing about watching kids was seeing the ridiculous faces they'd make. It always made me laugh because no two faces were ever the same. My experience lifting has shown up these children when it comes to making crazy faces.

      Normally, I'm serious when I lift. Or when others ask me to watch them lift to critique them. However, when you watch someone pop a vein in their forehead while their face is the color purple it's hard to not start laughing on the spot. Sometimes the faces people make are not what you'd expect. The first time I watched my boyfriend squat was at a meet in Grand Rapids. He stepped up to the squat machine for his first attempt and down he went with 400 pounds on his back. The entire bottom part of his face became perfectly square partly from his beard, but mostly from him clenching his jaw so hard. The skin turned a deep red within seconds and his eyes looked like saucers. My mother and I couldn't stop giggling. He didn't have the worst face, though. One man walked up to perform his third attempt at the squat. He was quite short for a guy, but huge none the less. His head was completely bald and shined from the sweat. As he was going down his face and head turned magenta. When he was holding the squat, waiting for the judges to tell him up, his whole head looked like a beat up plum. One long vein was ready to burst on his forehead and I was cringing in my seat. Others, though, kept straight faces like myself. I'm not sure exactly what my crazy face is, but I know it's only a matter of time before I find out. Or see someone in the crowd cracking up at me.   

      

      

My worst enemy

   I'm sure most of you who work out or had gym class know the basics of squatting. You stand with your feet shoulder width apart and then bend down. Easy. Then again... maybe not so easy. My first training session with my dad was God awful. I got under the bar on the squat machine and did it. Easy. Sweet damn was I wrong. The rest of that day was me feeling like a five year old trying to learn the 'correct' way to squat. The next few months weren't easier. 

   As I've mentioned before, power lifting consists of three events: squat, bench press, and dead lift. When it comes to training I focus on one event every session. Wednesday I focused on my squat technique. Whenever I get up under the bar on the squat machine I freeze up and can't remember what to do. That sounds weird. Just bend down...but there's more to it. 

   To keep things from getting wordy and technical you have to tighten up your hamstrings and butt muscles and then start the squatting process with your hips instead of your knees. It sounds difficult and tiring just from that sentence and I'm here to confirm it is. My butt and any muscles that come with it are nonexistent. As for my hamstrings, they too don't exist. My quads, or the front muscles of my thighs, are gorgeous, however. Those babies are pure muscle. So naturally, I keep wanting to use my quads. Not good. That means most the pressure from the weights and my own body are being put on my knees. I have trouble with this every time I go under the bar. After five sets of doubles and struggling I decided I needed to work solely on technique. I ditched the bar and did standing belt squats. After fifteen of those my squats were a gazillion times better. I finished my session doing those until I couldn't anymore. 

     The next morning I wanted to cut my legs off. The soreness was fierce. My legs were pure jelly for the next two days. My quads were on fire. Walking to class up and down the stairs could have been the death of me. Even so, I was glad to have buckled down that night and really worked on making my squat technique better. My next squat day will benefit from it greatly and making personal progress is all that matters.

Finding my drive

     I was never athletic during high school. I played softball in the spring but after the season was over I didn't touch a softball once until the following spring. I wasn't talented at the game. I could slug a ball great. Though, so could five other girls. I wasn't competitive like the others who played sports all year long, either. I just enjoyed the game. Problem was... I wasn't a help to my teammates. Not too mention my coach was the biggest douche of a man I've ever met. My senior year I gave up on softball. I was part the Varsity team only as a supporter. At first I was royally pissed off, but then I tried a new sport. An individual sport that I was good at and could continue growing my strength and skills. Power lifting.   

    Back track to my Sophomore year. I had just met my biological father. Of course, I'd seen old pictures of him from my mother. He was tall and a little thick with sandy blond hair and dark brown eyes. He was a little awkward and sheepish when pictured around my mother because she was older than him. Those photos had not prepared me for the mass of muscle that is my father today. His shoulders, arms, legs, neck, hands, everything are all enormous and muscular. It's intimidating to people. So, as he came walking up the driveway to pick us up I was in utter shock. I didn't think I was seeing the right person. But I was because we got into the car and off we went to Lucky's for dinner. We got along wonderful. From that day on he was over at the house all the time. Eventually, my mother and him got back together and are currently engaged. When I asked him why he was so huge compared to the pictures I'd seen he told me a little about power lifting. Basically, it's a bunch of people who lift extreme amounts of heavy weight in three different categories. Bench, squat, and dead lift. I was fascinated. He told me he was pro lifter and showed me some of his records. He took me to the gym with him a few times. As the months went by he started bringing his equipment over to our house in the garage and would train there with other big, bulky, sweaty men. I would use the machines for my own workout sessions but wasn't interested in the sport. I feared bulking up like that. I had no intention of becoming manly looking. Nor did I believe in my ability to discipline myself. That all changed, however, when I finally went to see him compete in a meet.

    This past March I traveled to Grand Rapids. My father weighed in that night and the next morning my mother and I stood in the back of the room waiting for his turn. I expected to see hulk sized men in tight leotards (singlets) lifting 800 pounds and grunting. What I didn't expect to see were people of all shapes, sizes, and skill levels competing. I especially didn't expect women to be competing. I was in awe. Some of the girls who got on the platform to lift were 5 foot nothing and 100 pounds, but they were lifting three times their own weight! One girl was 4'8", 97 pounds, and dead lifted 336 pounds. My mind was blown. I was completely envious. I wanted that strength. I wanted that confidence. When the meet was over I told my dad how impressed I was. He laughed at my amazement. I told him that I was inspired to be strong like that. I wanted to lift. 

    After that day I looked at my schedule and realized I was too busy to start training seriously. Once I graduated and had everything in order for college I stepped up. The training is hard and takes a lot of you, but I haven't lost my drive. Already, I'm stronger than I've ever been and between my father and my boyfriend I have an amazing support system. My reasons for picking this topic are so I can stay focused on my training, track my progress, and laugh at my failures or mishaps. Maybe along the way I'll inspire another to become stronger with me.