The first time I deadlifted 200 pounds, my world narrowed to keeping my back straight, my core tight, and lifting that bar from the floor to my hips. Nothing mattered except that weight and picking it up.
I walked into the weight room two years ago, at almost seventy. I was overweight, facing health risks, and leaving my full-time job. I needed something new. Now, I train weekly, focusing on warm-ups, accessory exercises, and four main lifts: the back squat, shoulder press, deadlift, and bench press. Each demands precision and focus.
At 5 feet tall, I lift a bar that is taller than I am. My legs are so short that I rest my feet on two large 45-pound weights to do a bench press. When I started, I felt very self-conscious. At this point, lifting weights is simply what I do. I love it.
Being stronger makes a difference in my daily life: I carry my grandson without strain, move heavy furniture, and finish hikes with energy to spare. My body has reshaped itself—thirty pounds of fat have gone, and ten pounds of muscle have been gained. My waist is five inches smaller, my hips are six inches trimmer, and my back is two inches broader.
I also now eat to build muscle: more cottage cheese, lean meats, and fish; berries, greens, and carbohydrates like rice, oatmeal, or bread. I eat less than I used to and try to make the calories count.
I am still overweight, but I don’t think about being fat–I think about being strong. This refocus feels good; it’s based on what my body can do, not on what I think my body looks like.
In a few weeks, I will participate in my first competitive weightlifting meet. My goal is to lift 500 pounds across my squat, bench press, and deadlift. To achieve this, I’ve been going to the gym four times a week since January. When I started writing this essay, my best deadlift was 200 pounds; it’s now 215. That’s evidence that consistency leads to improvement.
Some days in the gym are magic – the weights move smoothly, my form clicks, and the endorphins kick in. Other days are a trudge, but it’s the consistency that helps me improve.
When I step onto the platform for my first meet, I will be the oldest lifter there. But I’m proud of the strength and skill I’ve learned how to build over the past two years in the weight room. At a time when many older women are expected to grow frail, I’m stronger and more sturdy. And women can keep lifting well into their nineties, so I know my personal bests can keep increasing.
This work rewards consistency, commitment, and effort—precisely what I consistently give to it, day after day.
The first time I deadlifted 200 pounds, my world narrowed to keeping my back straight, my core tight, and lifting that bar from the floor to my hips. Nothing mattered except that weight and picking it up.
I walked into the weight room two years ago, at almost seventy. I was overweight, facing health risks, and leaving my full-time job. I needed something new. Now, I train weekly, focusing on warm-ups, accessory exercises, and four main lifts: the back squat, shoulder press, deadlift, and bench press. Each demands precision and focus.
At 5 feet tall, I lift a bar that is taller than I am. My legs are so short that I rest my feet on two large 45-pound weights to do a bench press. When I started, I felt very self-conscious. At this point, lifting weights is simply what I do. I love it.
Being stronger makes a difference in my daily life: I carry my grandson without strain, move heavy furniture, and finish hikes with energy to spare. My body has reshaped itself—thirty pounds of fat have gone, and ten pounds of muscle have been gained. My waist is five inches smaller, my hips are six inches trimmer, and my back is two inches broader.
I also now eat to build muscle: more cottage cheese, lean meats, and fish; berries, greens, and carbohydrates like rice, oatmeal, or bread. I eat less than I used to and try to make the calories count.
I am still overweight, but I don’t think about being fat–I think about being strong. This refocus feels good; it’s based on what my body can do, not on what I think my body looks like.
In a few weeks, I will participate in my first competitive weightlifting meet. My goal is to lift 500 pounds across my squat, bench press, and deadlift. To achieve this, I’ve been going to the gym four times a week since January. When I started writing this essay, my best deadlift was 200 pounds; it’s now 215. That’s evidence that consistency leads to improvement.
Some days in the gym are magic – the weights move smoothly, my form clicks, and the endorphins kick in. Other days are a trudge, but it’s the consistency that helps me improve.
When I step onto the platform for my first meet, I will be the oldest lifter there. But I’m proud of the strength and skill I’ve learned how to build over the past two years in the weight room. At a time when many older women are expected to grow frail, I’m stronger and more sturdy. And women can keep lifting well into their nineties, so I know my personal bests can keep increasing.
This work rewards consistency, commitment, and effort—precisely what I consistently give to it, day after day.