As you can probably see from the pictures on the previous entry, a great time was had by all - yours truly included.
None of the Brits disgraced themselves. Yes, there were a few bombs. 120 proved to be too much for Mike Edwards on the day; Steve Demeis tried to lift in a shirt for the first time ever in competition and didn't quite master it - but he'll be good for 225+ next year, mark my words. Bill McFadyen seemed to have issues with the shirt as well - the bar kept twisting as he lowered it, hence his bomb. But if the true mark of a lifter is how they react to adversity, then these guys are right up there with the very best. They held their heads high and vowed to do better next time. And they will.
Cliff Haynes, my room mate, got another silver medal, that would have been gold if he had weighed in 205 grams lighter. Alex Lee got a bronze that would have been a gold if he had failed to make the weight and lifted in the heavier class. Such are the foibles of life.
The Geordie lads all did themselves proud. Allan Hulme in the 125s (although he was only 112.4) lifted a superb 215 and went for 225 on his third attempt. If he had got it, it would have been the heaviest ever bench press by a British 50+ lifter. Julian Massey also lifted solidly in spite of work problems in the lead up which severely curtailed his training, and he managed to break the 400 pounds barrier with his third lift.
In the 110s, Dave Brookes is coming back to form after a really bad series of shoulder injuries. He made 192.5 look easy and was very close to hitting 200. Steve Demeis was really unlucky, but I reckon he or Allan can be the first British bencher to hit 500 pounds (227.5 kilos) - unless I get there first!!!
Derek Fender also did us proud with a double bodyweight opening lift in the M2 67.5 class, as did Keith Arkle in the M1 90s. Keith nailed 210 second lift, before narrowly missing a brave attempt at 215. He was unlucky to be competing against Dennis Cieri, whose opening lift of 265 was an M1 World Record and enough to win the M1 Wilks award. Oh - and Dennis then narrowly missed 291 for a new open World Record.
Keith was last seen contemplating a move to the 82s!
Last but not least, the wonderful Norman Anderson, now aged 74, came 7th in the M3 100 kilo class - weighing 92 kilos and giving his competitors 14 years as well as 8 kilos bodyweight.
Most of the Geordie lads brought wifes and kids, and it was a privilege to share time with them. Every one a class act - especially Maxine, who laughed at all my jokes!
Many people won't get this, but the point about the IPF Worlds is that you're there. Mixing with like-minded, and like-driven, people. Some are a bit better than you, some are a bit worse, but at the banquet you're all just lifters. No egos. No badges saying what you lifted. No medals being worn. Just lifters having a good time together.
I'm normally a social pariah. I hate going out, standing at a bar and hoping that I'll know someone. So I normally don't bother. Plus there's always some prat who could lift more than me five years ago, someone else who wants to know how many steroids I take, another drunken mickey taker who does an overhead press motion when they see me, and of course the drunken wanna be hardman from the "...you think you're tough cos you lift weights..." school of charm.
You don't know how many time I want to say "yes", but of course you never do...
So I tend not to go out much socially, unless it's to something specific. I'm not a barfly. And I'm pretty much teetotal most of the year. It doesn't go with my sport, I've never been much of a drinker anyway, and I had a bad experience of the effects of alcohol with an ex girlfriend.
But get me at the Worlds and I'm a completely different animal. Maybe it's going out for the evening with like minded friends. Maybe we've all been peaking for months and all need to let off some steam at the same time, so we do it communally. Whatever. If you told me with absolute 100% certainty that I'd bomb at the worlds, I'd still go.
I also seem to have developed an amazing capacity to drink lots of alcohol and stay compus mentis. Normally, if you rarely drink, a couple of drinks would get you pretty drunk. In Schwedt, I think I had about 45 shots plus beer chasers and I walked home. At this year's banquet I think I had about ten or eleven large beers, and then finished off with three double vodkas in about five minutes. Yet I was fine - well slightly tipsy, but nothing more. In the process, I think I dragged a couple of others out of their comfort zone. Sorry about that, guys! We found out next morning that the local beer was 12% proof! Whoops!!
I also confirmed another rule of social drinking. If you want to have a good time and mingle well, the world's greatest icebreaker is to wear a kilt. Everyone wants pictures taken with you. If you want to go one step further, wear a faux tiger skin thong underneath - even if you have to order it from ebay under the sub-heading "Possible Gay Interest"! Lots of thong pictures were taken, but none on my camera, but I'm sure they're enlivening my spaces and blogs here, there and everywhere.
I love mixing with the Americans at these events. They're fun, generous of spirit, and great to be with. If you want a good night out, tag along with the Americans and try not to enjoy yourself. You'll fail! I love their enthusiasm, their willingness to work hard, and their capacity to play hard, and their love of men in kilts!
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