The big finale, or lack of.

The big finale, or lack of.

So you know this blog I started leading up to the British. Well it would have been good to actually compete in them wouldn’t it 🙈.

Saturday just wasn’t for me.

The weight cut was maybe too much even though I thought I totally had it. I felt strong even when I left the gym at 9am Saturday morning weighing 51.6kg after an evening in the sauna and a morning on the treadmill wearing a sweat suit. I know right, smashed it! Nahhhhh. I got on the scales at Manchester Grammar School and weighed 52.3kg. As you can imagine my head well and truly fell off.

Once I’d come to terms with what had just happened, I picked my head up and was off out into the freezing cold trying to get a sweat on AGAIN. Let’s lose that .3, it’s not like I’d sweat enough in the past 24 hours or anything 🙄.

I tried going for a wee too, that would probably help but do you know how difficult it is to go to the loo when you’re so so so so so dehydrated.

At this point I felt horrendous. I’d walked in that morning on such a high and to not make weight was a kick in the dick. I couldn’t quite get my head around how two sets of scales could be so out 🤯.

Anyway I tried again to no avail, I’d only lost .1 and I knew then and there I was out. I’m not going to bust a gut trying to get off another 200g then attempt to rehydrate and warm up before lift off in half an hour. Been there, done that, got the t shirt and it’s shit. So instead I had a strop, cried a lot then had the best chat ever with my trainer Danny. At this point I was saying ‘you know what, I don’t think this is for me, maybe I should just stick to the acting thing’. Having worked my arse off for the past two months, putting so many of my friends on hold, saying no to certain events and basically being the most boring person on planet earth for absolutely nothing was hard to take. Yet somehow I left that competition so much more confident than when I walked in.

He basically said to me he knows what I can lift, he knows what my numbers should be, so why go into such a huge competition that’s being streamed on websites and shown to people who all have an interest in the sport and be mediocre when I know I could be decent. When i know how well I could have done how upset would I be to lift and not hit the same numbers as my last comp, or in-fact walk out with less, or worse than that… BOMB, AGAIN. This just wasn’t my day and that’s cool but at least I had the balls to walk away and not have any regrets. Knowing what I’m capable of and doing anything less than that would have been worse for me than saying I didn’t make weight.

I’m a ‘it’s all or nothing‘ type girl and Danny totally gets that. Saturday was nothing and that’s fine.

I was in the pub by half 11 Saturday and finally broke my sober streak. 64 days I managed, that’s pretty impressive but I made sure I drank all of my favourite alcoholic beverages and I finally got my hands on some cheese, pick and mix and chocolate. All the things I’ve missed the past couple of months and do you know what, I went to bed feeling horrendous. I was so sick. My body couldn’t handle the dramatic change, like I said I’m all or nothing and I honestly had it allllll. My eczema’s had a field day too as it’s the first time since I found out what I’m allergic to that I’ve not cared about what I order off the menu. Wheat, gluten, dairy, you name it I’ve eaten it so now I’m left a lovely red mess again. I can honestly say I much prefer following a healthier more careful lifestyle 😬.

I’ve had a great weekend though and I’m so lucky to be surrounded by some pretty epic people.

Danny Potter i think you’re magic and what you did on Saturday was take a really shitty situation and turn it into something great. You knew exactly what to say and totally understood how I was feeling. Thanks Pal!

P.s I love powerlifting and there’s no way I’m going to give up.

Love J 💌

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