Weighed myself around noon, I was 188.5. This made me real fucking nervous, as I knew the more I weighed the higher my Wilks would have to be to qualify for The Arnold. Regardless, I went on my way down to St. Cathrines for the meet, got to the hotel, got settled and went over to the grocery store across the street. I made 5 PB sandwiches and also got Powerade, bananas, Cashews and, the lemon. Went back to the hotel, made the sandwiches and grabbed some fish fry for dinner, all the while drinking tons of water. I ate dinner, watched Taken (Which was fucking great) and ate the lemon, all of it’s insides and half the peel. Went to bed around 2130h, not knowing how much I would weigh in the morning.
Set my alarm for 0630h, woke up at 0610h, took a massive piss and went and laid back down until 0630h. Took a dump and a hot bath to get some sweat going. I luckily weighed in at 82.7kg, probably the heaviest in the 12 man 83kg class. The cool thing about IPF is the 2 hour weigh-ins. They start at 7:30, and go in a specific order, one at a time, so they take about 45 minutes to get to the end of the list, then after you weigh in is equipment check, so it was ~0800h before I got to eat/drink anything. Has some eggs, peameal bacon, potatoes and toast, took another dump, and got ready to go.
Warmed up, felt it in my knees, as usual, went up to a single at 405, belted. Everyone else in my class sucked ass at squats, one guy in a 1-ply suit finished with 2.5kg over my opener, no one else was over 200kg. I opened with 468, smoked it, but didn’t wait for any commands at all, because I’m reckless (read: a fucking idiot) like that, either way it was real fucking easy so I called for 501. Got that reasonably easy, it was a bit slow in the middle, but I had more in the tank. I called 512, to play a bit conservative. I did my usual thing for a third squat, blast music until the bar is ready for me, then put some chalk on my hands (I chalk my back well in advance) storm up to the platform, huff some ammonia and get to it, well, not at the IPF I don’t. I started in on the ammonia and the head judge stood up all upset. I legit said “What, I can’t do that?” and apparently I can’t. So I tried to squat right after that, but failed miserably. Afterwards he came and said if I wanna sniff ammonia I have to do it somewhere that the crowd can’t see because it disrupts their “Peaceful image”
After squats I checked out of the hotel, singlet still on (Side note, I realized that when you’re wearing a singlet and don’t have pockets, you can leave you belt loose and it creates one big front pocket and you keel like a kangaroo) the girl at the front desk asked, verbatim “Was it hard?” I just thought “What a stupid fucking question” and just said that it was still going. I wanted to say “It is now” but, well, I’m me.
Smoked all my warm-ups, felt pretty good, confident I could get a PR, then I go to set up and the head judge tells me my heels have to be on the ground.This fucking RUINED my set up, my arch was fucked and I couldn’t really get my legs into it at all, as I’m short and not terribly flexible. By now I’m wondering what kind of a Chickenshit outfit this is (Shouts to Brent), and missed my opener. I was pretty fucking rattled. I called for the same weight, not being THAT much of an idiot, and it was tough as hell. BRB, Squatting way more than everyone else and struggling to bench 297. Called for 303, and, after another “Heels on the ground” reminder, missed.
Warm ups felt solid, albeit a bit rushed because I went to the warm up room a tad late, then realized I forgot my socks in my bag in the main room. Regardless, pulled up to 315 for a single, knowing I had a low opener. 440 was easy to open with, Called 490. The guy in second place benched a lot more than me and was now only 7.5kg behind, he called for enough to tie me, which would have him take first by body weight as long as I missed 490. Lick my taint you dirty bald fuck, you’re equipped and hoping that a raw 20 year old kid misses so your grown-ass can get first. I made 490, putting me in first by 22.5kg assuming he made his 3rd, which he did. Two other people tied him, though, and one was lighter, so he ended up 3rd place. I took a swing at 500, missed somewhere around the knee, but didn’t really care because my Wilks was 390 and I was ahead by 50lb.
Stood on the top of the podium, I didn’t really smile, but my tank top did:
I won first place in the 83kg class (Field of 12) Best Junior lifter across all classes. I could have lifted more, but I’m going to The Arnold, so I’m satisfied.