What Brings Me to This Place?

Here is a glimpse into my world, as a competitive powerlifter, a decade ago.

The deep knurling of the cold steel barbell digs into my sweaty palms.

A dull throbbing in my ears echoes the rapid beat of my heart, and drowns out the heavy metal music that is broadcast throughout this dungeon.

My mind clears as my nasal passages open from a quick whiff of ammonia bicarbonate, affectionately known as “Nose Tork” in power lifting circles.

My lungs expand as I take one last gulp of air.

With my hips back and a hard arch in my back, I pull.

I pull as if my life depended on it.

The bending barbell slowly rises off of the gym floor.

Six hundred and sixty pounds worth of iron plates clink and clank together as I accelerate the bar towards my knees.

A trickle of blood runs out of my left nostril and into my mouth.

Its salty, metallic taste reminds me that I am still alive as I pull a third of a ton worth of steel and iron from the earth.

With no awareness or thought that I have put Newton’s second law of motion into action, the rugged barbell scrapes my shins, moves over my knee caps and comes to a rest on my thighs, while I execute the final portion of the dead lift — the lock out.

I have completed one repetition in a set of five.

Each repetition is an event.

Each repetition requires as much effort and dedication as the ones preceding it.

This is it.

This is why I come to this place; the adrenaline, the endorphins, the euphoria that follows a successful lift.

This is powerlifting.

This is my life.

Read more about my life as a strength athlete: