I randomly got asked this question a few times in the same day. I had just done a Q&A podcast with Heidi Dehnel, host of The Future is Female Powerlifting podcast, and she asked me that question.
"Uhh, I really don't know... but I've been competing since 2000."
Later that evening someone at the gym asked me. I tried to quickly calculate...
18 years x 2 per year = 36 (give or take because some years I may have competed 3 times and other years just once.)
Regardless 30-40 meets is a lot. A lot of weight, stress, traveling, cutting weight, missed attempts, successful attempts.
The kid at the gym proceeded to ask me what my highest rank ever was. "Well, in 2005 and 2006 I was ranked 1st in the 132 class."
I told him how the only way we knew our rankings then was through Powerlifting USA magazine. Each month it would arrive on your doorstep and each month only 1 weight class' rankings were featured. You'd have to wait and wait and wait for your weight class to be listed. Then every once in awhile they would list the ALL-TIME TOP 50 list. Another very cool list to find your name on.
(By the way, my top ranked numbers then don't even stand a chance against the numbers of the women today.)
I recently read a post on Instagram from Stacy Burr - you know, the gal who just set the record of the highest Wilks EVER. She alluded to the fact that she has no meets planned and wants to continue carrying on with life - to have freedom from training and dieting. Stacy said she was basically a slave to the sport for 4 years (which by the way, she doesn't regret) in order to reach a goal she set out to get.
And now that she got it, she "wants to live".
When I hit that high point in my competitive career, I had no idea what would happen after that. I had no idea that that may be the highest I would ever get in this sport. I had no idea that I'd barely eek out a PR total years after having kids, while simultaneously watching the sport of female powerlifting expand exponentially before my eyes.
I think sometimes when we reach a high point, we think, man, what's next? Can I go up a little higher? Can I hold on to this? The high is so high, we don't want to lose it. And frankly, we don't know if we can keep it. We have no idea what will come up in life that will impact our lifting careers. Injury, family stuff, job change... You may step off the platform #1 one day, and the next need to walk away from it.
I think there's something to be said about leaving on your own terms. I think there's something to be said about getting to a point where you are happy with your successes and you look forward to the new highs that are to come. They may not be weight PR's but life PR's.
I've said it before, powerlifting is big. It's a big part of many of our lives. But I'm so glad that I live for something bigger... bigger than myself, bigger than powerlifting. To leave a legacy - not of myself - not that people would remember ME, but that they become changed to love more and give more. And each subsequent generation continues to reap what is sown from previous generations.
Powerlifting is more that PR's. To me, it's Living, Learning, and Passing On... all with a Higher Love.