I had done the research before Nationals — as had my gameday coaches, Sioux-z and Matt Gary — to make sure there would be no 39-year-olds aging into the masters-1 category, so I knew when I won that I had earned an invitation to the IPF World Championship.

It still felt really, really good when the invitation arrived. 

I’m really headed into new territory this time. When I started writing about my experience becoming a competitive athlete again in my mid-40s, it was about getting a re-do on the process of becoming increasingly more competitive in a sport, moving from having successful performances at small local meets, to bigger venues, to Nationals. Competing at Nationals and knowing I had a great chance of being among the top performers mirrored what I had done in college in track and field. Winning the national title was new, but it didn’t feel so fantastically different compared to being among the top competitors. I had the same happiness of feeling like I had put together great performance both mentally and physically, and I got the bonus props of a little external recognition by making the podium. It was definitely a bit more special — there is something that makes you feel just a bit more jazzed about taking top honors. 

Defending that championship was different. There’s more inherent pressure when there is more downside risk — namely, you have something to lose, and that can be extremely rattling for some athletes. I think because I was really focused on wanting to get that spot on the national team and compete at IPFs that I experienced less downside risk. It just didn’t take with me. I was focused on achieving something else, on gaining something, and so mentally it was easy to not dwell on losing something. Perhaps because earlier in 2019 I had also had the experience of thinking I had earned a spot on the national team only to “lose” it, that I had already experienced a sense of loss, mitigating the pressure around any feelings of defending my territory. I had already lost something, so I could focus on trying to get the thing I hadn’t quite achieved.

Going to Worlds is new territory. The competition is going to be really tight. The previous world champion, if she competes again, has won gold twice. And there’s a new wrinkle: Mystique, who is the 72kg masters-1 queen of the squat (she could very well hit 400lbs at Worlds) will be my teammate. Our class is going to be stacked, and we could all be within a few kilos of one another as we fight for the top spot. (I’m going to write later about your top competitor becoming your teammate because I think it is critically important for women to learn how to have a healthy relationship with competition and with each other, in sports, at work, and in other areas of achievement.)

There are many new dynamics to the World Championship that are new territory for me. Mystique and I will be working together to ensure that the U.S. team wins, but we will both also want to win our competition. Our coach will have some interesting things to balance. I have to travel 26 hours to South Africa for the competition while managing to stay hydrated and ensuring that I don’t have a crazy weight spike upon arrival. The harshness of the travel itself will be challenging. Recently, I was featured in an internal news story at work that discussed my new professional role but with the hook being powerlifting and my opportunity to compete at Worlds. I have written about my experiences, but this blog is a space I control — I choose how publicly to share my goals and what I risk by not achieving those goals. Now anyone in our 55,000 person organization who happened to read the news story knows I’m trying to win. I gave up control over who I will have to tell about the outcome of this competition, and while I will do everything I can to crush my competition, my competition is working just as hard. I will have to tell the story of the outcome — positive or negative — to anyone who asks.

That actually feels like pressure.

This is new territory, and it comes with the opportunity for new growth and new learning.

Two weeks before the competition, I’ll turn 47. And I have a focused opportunity to accelerate my growth, my ability to adapt, my ability to learn, to capture difficult emotions and find ways of channeling them to be productive, to become more resilient. We grow when we are tested. 

And I’ll bring you along for the ride.