I have less than two weeks of training to go before the APA meet where I’m going for the squat record. After months of work it’s finally almost here and I have two jobs. Well three, really.
Get low; bury the squat so I don’t lose on depth. So every squat, especially the last in a set, has to be low, low, low. Tricky that is, because I’d swear my arse was ready to brush the floor when I’m barely parallel. “You shorted that one,” or “you owe me another one” have come to be the words I dread hearing most from Ben. My battle with depth comes from fear that I won’t make it back up. I’m learning to let go of that. If I don’t make it up, I just don’t — that’s what a spotter is for. So far I’m making it up. The biggest test comes Friday when go for three sets of three at 90% -162 pounds.
Hold up as things start to break down — knees, hip flexors, the muscles of the ribs, I’m hurting in multiple places but I can’t stop now. Ice packs are my friend, I stretch and hit the roller and the lacrosse ball daily or more, and pop my fish oil and glucosamine, as well as chug lots of water and eat my fruits and veggies to stay healthy.
And there’s a third task — make sure my bodyweight comes in where it needs to be. The official weight is 48 kilograms. That’s about 105 and three-quarters. But to be safe (weighing in the evening, when eating and drinking have added to my wake-up weight, and wearing at least some clothing) I need to be about an even 104. After all this work no way will I risk losing over a few ounces. So it’s time to join in solidarity with my friend Susan who’s cut calories for weeks, as I cut back just in time to lose the last pound before weigh-in.
So that’s my mission if I choose to accept it. And I so do!