My Experience with Competitions and Prep

I’ve competed 6 times. A large number to some, but a negligible amount to others. I’ve competed at every level in the IPF, from an open competition in Sligo, to the 2019 World Championships in Helsingborg, Sweden. Each Competition was a new unique experience for me, with each prep providing me with new challenges or teaching me new lessons both about myself and competing. I am no world champ, and I still consider myself relatively inexperienced compared to many who have decades of powerlifting meets under their belt, but I've picked up a couple things on my journey that I think any lifter would agree with, appreciate or learn from when it comes to competing:

You get out what you put in.. 

Watching the platform, you’ll see an array of emotions from lifters. Some ecstatic, some devastated like never before. Some genuinely surprised, some thinking to themselves..”yeah, didn’t expect that to feel good anyway”, and unfortunately, some infuriated with themselves, their coaches, or the referees. What I was lucky to understand from a young age, and something that was consistently reinforced into my understanding, was that for nearly everything in life, you get out of it what you put into it. In most cases, the more attention we pay, the more effort we give, or the more we perfect our work, the closer we put ourselves to getting the result we desire. Not surprisingly, this principle stands true in powerlifting. Those who find themselves infuriated, and oftentimes looking to blame others, are likely the same people who did not prioritise training throughout their prep. Who skipped training days, skipped tough accessories or who cut out a backdown or two.. Those who skipped meals, or who ate unaccounted for calories while trying to make weight, making their water cut that much more tricky. Maybe they carelessly underslept during prep, or attempted important singles while hungover. We can all list off 101 things we would consider non conducive to good training sessions. All the things I go out of my way to avoid while in prep. I make sure to eat all of my calories, get sufficient sleep, and avoid potentially harmful activities. I skip going to clubs and come home early from gatherings when I have a heavy session the day following. I train regardless of how much the fatigue makes me want to curl up in a ball , and push myself to do my best. Why? Because when it comes to comps, and powerlifting in general, you get out what you put in.

Don’t panic if you cannot train as “Specific” as possible..

Something I was always aware of, before I had ever even seen them in person, was how much of a difference calibrated competition plates made to how lifts felt. I was terrified, so made sure to get in a session using them before my first competition. The rumours were right, they felt soul crushingly heavy. The unrack, the walk out, it all felt so foreign again. At the time, I was about three weeks out, and feared all the numbers Adam and I had discussed were out the window. I went on to hit big squat and bench prs, and temporarily forgot completely about the difference in plates. Happy Andrew. Training on calibrated eleiko plates, with an eleiko bar, on a comp rack, would be the most specific training environment one could ask for, but of course one does not always have access to such equipment. I’ve noticed training with such specificity definitely helps, as it eliminates discrepancies between training environment and comp environment, allowing the lifter to feel more at ease when competing and not worrying about how different things may feel from their gym’s bumper plates. However , it is not the be all and end all. I’ve had some competition preps where I hit a lot of my sessions on comp equipment, and in the subsequent comps I performed excellently, but I've also had preps where I did not touch a single calibrated plate, and I went on to have fantastic meet days. Would I have had 1 or 2 more kilos had I trained on competition equipment? Maybe. But I did just fine without it. When in prep, programming becomes hyper specific. Load increases, rpe increases. Many of us will hit singles, others doubles, all preparing us for the platform. This specific style of training gets us 90% of the way to comp specificity, and the last 10% comes from minor things, which I like to try to cover with small adjustments like; wearing my singlet, getting commands for comp lifts, not keeping my headphones on, etc. If I have access to competition equipment, I use it in hopes of gaining a couple more percentages of specificity in my training, making my sessions more and more similar to comp day, but if this isn't possible, there’s no need to panic.

It’s not over until the fat lady sings.

I had a quick turn around between European Championships on November 30th 2019 to Nationals 2020 on Feb 1st, but i was confident I could still add kilos to my total because of the work i was prepared to do, and particularly the weight i no longer had to cut with the move up to the 93s. I pushed hard for the first half of the 8 week prep, hitting massive squat PRs left right and centre. This PR train was short lived however, as I strained my adductor to a degree that made it too painful to squat at all. I was crushed. I had experienced mild strains in the past, but none that truly stopped me doing any of the lifts, especially not 4 weeks out from what was the biggest comp of my career so far. Immediately there was emotion fueled panic, with doubts flooding my mind as to whether or not I’d be able to compete at all. After deliberation with Adam, we decided to take a day by day approach, acknowledging that there was a chance that I would not recover in time to squat anything meaningful if anything at all, but we remained hopeful that I would make a full recovery. Some light, painful deload sessions and a few baitings by my physio later, and I hit a 3 rep pr, three weeks out. Not completely free of pain, but painless enough to get in some decent squat work, I proceeded to take 235 (2.5 shy of my comp max) for a triple, two weeks out. With some juggling of physio appointments, focus on rest and recovery, and endless support from the man in charge, I made it to comp day. 254kg for an u93 junior national record. When you want something bad enough, and have a good support system around you, it’s definitely not over until the fat lady sings.

Be open to making new friends. A lot of them.

Each and every comp I’ve gone to, whether it be to lift, spot and load, or handle, I always meet new friends. It’s simple really- fill an event with people who all have the same interests, and have them partake in the activity they're all interested in. What do you know, you like most people in the place. Sure, when you're lifting, don't be afraid to focus solely on yourself, no one will shun you for this, but when you've finished, and the blood sweat and tears have come to a halt (even if this is just momentary), take the time to talk to everyone around. I’m a fairly social person, but am very focused on my own lifting on comp day. Even with this, I’ve managed to make friends from all around the country, from all different clubs purely from introducing myself on meet day. I’ve even made friends with those who live abroad at international comps. Be open to making new friends, and a lot of them at that.

Cherish it.

This one is particularly timely, given the current situation that saw us all take time away from not only gym environments, but from the competition scene. I’ve really been missing everything that comes with a comp weekend: The travelling, the nerves, the excitement, the emotional rollercoaster (this one comes whether i’m the one lifting or not), meeting up with the other coaches and teammates from around the country, meeting up with the other clubs, helping out and giving back to the community. I particularly miss watching lifters of every level, come away with lifts that they've worked so hard for. The moment where you see all of someone's stresses and fears, doubts and worries disappear as those magical white lights pop up on screen and they jump into their coaches arms. That moment is uniquely irreplaceable, and is one I'm itching to experience for myself, for my teammates and athletes, and for every other powerlifter out there that shares the same passion I do for this sport. So the next time i get to experience those moments, or witness them, I’ll make sure to cherish them, and so should you.