Powerlifting and Cheerleading

Currently my team is coming up on a pretty big week in the world of cheer. NDA and NCA nationals are next week in the lovely Daytona, FL. (And by lovely, I mean it’s kind of a dump but when all these happy, fake tanned cheerleaders are running around it certainly lightens and livens up the place). We have spent all season practicing and all spring drilling our routine to prepare for 2:15 seconds on the mat down there. At least, we get to go twice. American University has never made it into the finals, which is understandable since the team has only competed three years. I would be be happy if we could break into it this year.

Since I am senior, this marks my last trip to Daytona as a competitor. For the past four years, cheerleading has kept me in very good shape. It saved me when I came back from Europe after eating 6 pastries a day. Now, I need to move on to something else. I did a triathlon last summer which I really enjoyed. However, triathlons are hard to come by in the DC area since I refuse to jump into the Potomac wholeheartedly for a half mile swim. I like running but it bores me and I am never going to be one of those people who runs 20+ miles a week and feels glorious. In comes the powerlifting.

Matthew, my boyfriend, just recently competed in his first powerlifting competition involving squat, bench press and deadlift. I watch the first two events and apparently you can only enjoy people repeatedly lifting heavy weights if its in your genes or you are competing. So i think… some of the girls look really weak, I could be a powerlifter. I mean I have been lifting and throwing people in the air for the past four years, what’s the big difference? Since the competition Matthew has been somewhat obsessed with powerlifting and all records associated. Last night we looked up the records for my age range and weight for the country. Let’s just say, I’m gunning for this bitch. I mean that in the nicest (cheeriest) way possible. Name on a website, weird bragging rights… I’m so down.

Training begins in two weeks. Somethings tells me a bow and a tiny skirt will not be an appropriate uniform at this time.


~ by Meels on Wheels on April 4, 2012.

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