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Her 132.5-kilogram squat at the Canadian Powerlifting National Championships in St. John's, N.L., was five kilograms shy of the national record for her age and weight class, which she set herself in 2022.

In the next few hours, she set two new records, finishing the morning by hoisting a 140-kilogram barbell off the ground as a crowd of gobsmacked fans cheered and shouted her name.

"This is my sport that I love," Brydges said minutes after her final lift, her eyes filling with tears. "It's an amazing feeling to be able to do what I do at this age."

Powerlifting is gaining popularity in North America, particularly among women. "A Physical Education," Casey Johnston's 2025 memoir about ditching running and diet culture for barbells and squat racks, made several top book lists and was a staff favourite at Scientific American. It was published a month before another popular weightlifting memoir, "Lift," by former Wall Street Journal reporter Anne Marie Chaker.

Even the numbers at this year's Canadian powerlifting championships tell a story. More than 800 athletes from across the country registered for the event, making it the largest championships ever, said meet director Jeff Butt. Nearly 50 per cent of those signed up are women.

"I think people are finally getting it," said Linda Rousseau, a 72-year-old powerlifter from Ontario who competed Thursday in the Masters 4 category. She and Brydges were in the same flight of equipped lifters, who wear tight suits and knee wraps for support.

Rousseau also holds national records, and she deadlifted 127.5 kilograms wearing sparkly glasses and rainbow-striped socks on Thursday.

"There's someone at my gym, she started at the age of 78," Rousseau said. "It's never too late to be strong."

It wasn't always easy for women to get into barbells, Brydges said. She still remembers walking into Pyle’s Gym in Moose Jaw, Sask., at 23 years old, eager and inspired after watching the 1977 bodybuilding documentary "Pumping Iron." She'd heard Pyle’s was among the few gyms that openly welcomed women, she said.

The women's area was mostly cardio equipment and tiny pink dumbbells, she said. The heavy weights — the ones she wanted to lift — were on another floor, with the men.

"I could hear those weights up there, clang, clang, clang!" she said. Like they were beckoning to her.

Dave Pyle, the gym's owner, allowed her on the weightlifting floor, but he warned that some of the men wouldn't like it. He was right.

"There were some that just hated it, and some that readily accepted it, and some that wanted to load my barbell for me," Brydges said.

"Back then, when people heard I was going to the gym, they were like, 'Why do you want to look like a guy?'" she added. "Those were the beginning days of aerobics and step aerobics. That's what you did, and that's how you dressed. And that was not me."

She won the first competition she entered, in 1983.

Brydges ultimately got married, had kids and became a grandmother. After 32 years away from the sport, she figured she'd never compete again.
She had back problems; she'd gained weight. "I felt old," she said.

But decorated Moose Jaw lifter Rhaea Stinn, who holds two world bench press records, encouraged Brydges to get back under a barbell. At 59, Brydges started competing again, with Stinn on her coaching team.

She went into Thursday's championships in St. John's holding nine national records across two weight classes. She emerged having broken two of those records: one in bench press, and one that combines the total of a lifter's best squat, bench press and deadlift.

At 68, she has troubles that come with aging — she's on a wait-list for a new set of knees. But Bridges said she'd rather be strong and in pain than weak and in pain.

"When I hear those weights clanging, it's such a good sound, it's just a draw for me," she said. "It's the mentality of, 'Let's see what I can do today. Let's see the best I can give today.' Because every day I'm going to give my best."

This report by ¹ú²úÓÕ»ó¸£Àû was first published March 13, 2026.