Published on January 5th, 2016
Alan Thrall’s first Olympic Weightlifting meet.
It was a cloudy rainy day. Nerves started to set in as I drove across the golden gate bridge. I didn’t know what to expect, where exactly I was going, or where the bathrooms were located once the caffeine and butterflies kicked in.
~Driving Through San Francisco~
I wasn’t sure if I was ready for this competition because it had been a month since I was able to seriously train; a busy schedule, stress, lack of sleep, and a new puppy got the best of me. Would my body remember everything I’ve learned up to this point or would my month off prove to be a huge set back?
I’ll admit, going into this competition I had my doubts. After involuntarily taking a month off of training I thought that this competition might be a waste of time. What if I drive all the way out here only to bomb my snatch or get pinned under the barbell at the bottom of the clean? Everyone on YouTube will think I’m a flop! I have never competed without feeling completely confident in myself and this was the first time I was actually worried.
Regardless of the doubt and worry that filled my head I decided to compete anyways. Honestly, I enjoy putting myself in a situation where the odds might not be in my favor. Facing this fear head on makes me feel alive. I enjoy being pinned against a wall and forced to react. Would I be able to reach down deep inside myself and find what it takes to beat this task in front of me? How would I have felt if I decided to stay home and lay on the couch?
When circumstances in training (and in life) are not ideal I imagine I’m in a boxing match and my opponent is kicking my ass. Am I going to lie down and quit? Absolutely not. I’m going to roll with the punches and fight back. I told myself 4 months ago that I was going to do this competition, prepared or not. I’m going to go down swinging. In the words of Charles Bukowski “If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start.”
After all, even if I don’t make all of my lifts does it really matter? I’m not competing in the Olympics. If I fail my lifts my mom will still love me, my girlfriend will still be at my side, and life will go on. Let’s just have some fun and see what you I can do.
Meet
Once I got to the competition site I weighed in and then found a spot to throw my bags down. My flight of lifters was not scheduled to start until 4pm. I always take my time stretching, warming up, and preparing my body for lifting. There was a small warm up room being used by the women competing before my flight. Because the women were competing they had priority in the warm up room so I did some stretching in the hallway.
As we came closer to 4pm (my start time) I started to poke my head in the warm up room every few minutes to see if the women were finished yet. They weren’t. I begin to think to myself “Looks like my flight is going to be starting a bit late because the warm up room isn’t available for us yet and it’s almost time to start.”
Once the announcement was made that the women were finished all of the men crowded into the warm up room. I wasn’t in a rush to grab a barbell until they announced “Men, we will begin in 7 minutes. First up is _______, second is Alan…” What?! I have to be ready for my first attempt in 7 minutes?! I haven’t even put my lifting shoes on yet! The rush to quickly warm up completely caught me off guard. Usually I take my sweet time warming up at my own pace with the entire gym to myself. Now I had to jump in on other guys barbells loaded with who knows how much weight (I train with pounds so I don’t know the color coordination of the kilogram plates and I didn’t want to be the rookie sliding the plates around looking for the numbers on each plate). I have competed in powerlifting meets and strongman competition so I am aware of the hassle that sharing a warm up room can be but I’ve never been so rushed.
~Warm-Up Room~
Snatch
Before I could get my bearing I was up on the platform for my first attempt. For those of you unaware, Olympic Weightlifting tests two disciplines; the Snatch and the Clean & Jerk. You have 3 attempts at each lift totaling 6 separate attempts. The best completed lift in each discipline is combined for a total. For example, a 100 kg Snatch and a 200 kg Clean & Jerk would equal a 300 kg total. Since I have only been Snatching for the past 3 months of my life my opening numbers were very low. The weight was not heavy for me. Technique and confidence were my limiting factor. In training, I always had a hard time hitting a snatch on the first try. I would over extend, not get under it quickly enough, make corrections, adjust, try again, and successfully make the lift on the 2nd or 3rd attempt. In this competition, I couldn’t afford to do that. I had to get it right on my first try.
Nerves were high as the room became silent and all eyes were on me. My first thought was “Man, what if I fail my first attempt? How embarrassing. People are staring at me and probably wondering who the hell this hairy bearded guy in a spandex singlet is.” Then I slapped myself in the face and said “act like you’ve been here. You know what you’re doing. Stop overthinking this and move.” Like Donny Shankle says, “Just react.”
I nailed my first attempt of 85 kgs/187.5 lbs. with ease. It felt so light that it actually caught me off guard a bit. (probably because 85 kgs. is light, haha)
As soon as I set the weight down I was hit with another surprise…
“Alan, what weight do you want next?” asked the announcer.
“92 kgs.” I said.
“Okay, please put 92 kgs. on the bar for Alan”
I stood there for a second thinking to myself “there’s no way I’m going for my second attempt already. I literally just took my first attempt 10 seconds ago.”
In Powerlifting, lifters are put in a rotation. That rotation does not change (at least in all of the powerlifting meets I have competed in). Alan, Bill, Bob, Ben take their 1st attempt…Alan, Bill, Bob, Ben take their 2nd attempt…Alan, Bill, Bob, Ben take their 3rd attempt. This rotation stays consistent regardless of what weight we decide to lift.
In Olympic Weightlifting (at least in this meet) there was no rotation. You lifted when your weight was put on the bar. Weight always increased, they never took weight off of the bar. I assume this was to ensure a fast meet because it takes a lot of time to load 150 kgs on the bar then drop it down to 100 kgs and then load it back to 155 kgs and so on. So, if you decide to take 80 kgs for your 1st attempt and 90 kgs for your 2nd attempt and none of the other lifters are taking those weights you are lifting back to back.
So, I asked the announcer “Am I up already? How much time do I have?”
He looked at me and said “Yes, you’re up. You have plenty of time. Clock says 50 seconds, 49 seconds, 48 seconds; whenever you’re ready Alan.”
I’m not telling this story because I expect pity. Hopefully this will shed some insight for those you preparing for your first Olympic Weightlifting competition.
Luckily the weight was not heavy for me so the back to back attempts were not taxing on my body but it sure did mess with my head and blood pressure. Those first 10 minutes flew by and I was stuck trying to figure out what the heck is going on while trying to remember to breathe.
My 2nd attempt was even more nerve wracking than the first because I had some sort of weird superstition with that weight. My 2nd attempt was 92 kgs/ about 202.5 lbs. In training, I ALWAYS failed 205 lbs on my 1st attempt. I know it was not exactly 205 lbs but it was damn close. I have no reason why I always fail 205 lbs on my 1stattempt other than the fact that I keep reminding myself that I ALWAYS FAIL 205 LBS ON MY 1st ATTEMPT. If you keep telling yourself something it’s most likely going to come to fruition.
I kept telling myself that it was only 100 lbs on the bar. I focused on what I was supposed to do and how the movement should feel. I imagined myself completing the lift a couple times before I executed it.
Big breath, brace, pull, move, punch, stand up.
I nailed my 2nd attempt. I did catch it forward and it slightly put me off balance but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I tend to jump forward during the snatch (which is something I’m trying to fix) and this one almost got away from.
Moving on to my 3rd attempt I had some time to gain my composure and take a breath because there we a few lifters taking their attempts.
My final Snatch attempt was 100 kgs/220 lbs. In training I have done 245 lbs with relative ease. The morning of the competition I was going back and forth in my head trying to decide what my final Snatch attempt would be. I quickly made my decision once I saw the white board posted on the wall right by my bed at home.
In August, I wrote down two numbers that I would have been very happy with for this competition. Snatch: 100 kgs/220 lbs and Clean & Jerk: 150 kgs/330 lbs. At the time, these numbers were much higher than I had ever done. I actually had never even Snatched before when I wrote that number down! I just thought it was realistic for my and 100 seemed like a nice even number.
So, while I could have tried to beat my personal best of 245 lbs I reminded myself that this was my first Olympic Weightlifting meet so ANY number was a personal best for me. I was much more focused on going 3/3 in my snatch attempts than trying to do more than I had in training. Also, like I said earlier, the Snatch is a very technical movement and I often have trouble successfully completing the lift on my first try. So I decided to stay fairly conservative and stick with my original goal I set 4 months months ago; 100 kgs. I would have rather successfully lifted 100 kgs than failed 110 kgs. After all, nobody cares about how much you fail to lift.
During the Snatch you don’t have much time to think about the movement because it happens so fast. I took a second to envision myself completing the lift before I physically executed it. Once I was ready I do remember thinking for a split second as I broke the barbell off the floor “This feels heavier than it should.” A split second later I thought about what Donny Shankle says, “You got to pull the bar like you’re ripping the head off a goddamn lion.”
Wait patiently and let the barbell come into your hips, pull the bar up, pull yourself under, move, punch.
I felt every fiber in my body contribute to that lift and it felt like the easiest Snatch in my entire 4 month career. Which isn’t say much but I was elated to successfully make all three Snatch attempts.
Clean & Jerk
Moving onto the Clean & Jerk I started to feel a different sort of nervous. For my Snatch attempts the weight was very light for me. Pulling the weight, throwing myself under the barbell, and standing up with it was easy. The challenge was technique and precise execution of the lift. The Clean & Jerk was going to require some heavy lifting, some teeth clenching effort, some grit, and some balls. I am comfortable with my clean technique because I have been doing it for several years. This means I can handle more weight. Throwing yourself under a heavy barbell takes a lot of courage and if you’re not completely determined to get under that barbell and stand back up with it it’s going to pin you at the bottom and mean ol’ Mr. Gravity is relentless.
In the warm up room I was the Rookie trying to figure out how much each bar was loaded with. (Again, I don’t train with kgs so if a barbell was loaded with multiple colored plates and I couldn’t see the numbers on them I didn’t know what the weight was). I bounced around and took a few attempts with a few different weights hoping they were below my opening weight.
I’ll be honest, my Clean & Jerk warm ups didn’t feel that great. Mobility and technique felt fine but getting out of the bottom of the clean felt slower and heavier than I would’ve liked.
I had to give myself another pep talk. I told myself that this could go two ways:
I give these lifts everything I have, I move fast, the weight feels light, and I make the lift look easy. Or I still give these lifts everything I have, I move slower than I would like, the weight feels heavy, and I make the lift look like my max…
Either way, there was nothing to worry about; no matter how heavy or how light the weight feels I can only control one variable; my effort.
My first attempt was 130 kgs/286.6 lbs and the front squat felt heavy. Luckily, the jerk felt weightless to me; almost to the point that it surprised me. I felt like I had a comfortable front rack position and a quick, straight dip and drive. My footwork can definitely use some improvements. I always straighten out my rear leg and place my rear foot flat on the ground; this is not the most efficient split jerk technique. If you look at top level Olympic Weightlifters their back leg is always bent and the heel of the back foot is always off of the ground. Again, my technique is not perfect and I’m still working to improve it.
My second attempt was 140 kgs/308.6 lbs. At this point I thought to myself “This is no longer warm up weight for me. You’ve gotta focus and you’ve gotta be aggressive. You have to take charge of this weight, don’t let it push you around.”
The clean with 140 kgs felt easier than 130 kgs. I think this was because as the weight increased so did my intensity.
The clean truly tests your courage and determination. You have to decide beforehand if you have what it takes to pick this weight up, jump underneath it, and stand back up with it. In the squat or the bench press you are able to slowly take the weight out of the rack and feel the weight on your back or in your hands for a few seconds while you’re setting up before you decide to slowly lower the bar in a controlled fashion with a spotter or spotter arms there to catch you if you fail. On the clean however, it’s just you, your spandex singlet, and 300+ lbs going head to head on that platform. You don’t have time to feel the weight, acclimate to the weight, or decide whether or not you can actually do this. You’ve got to commit BEFORE you even start. You have no choice but to react. Jump or get out of the way.
The jerk with 140 kgs was not as smooth as I would have liked. The weight went up easily but my recovery to the standing position proved to be a challenge. I was off balance with my footing and this was causing the barbell to wobble back and forth. I felt every fiber in my body fighting to finish this lift.
“You’ve come this far, you can’t DROP this barbell now!”
Once I received the “Down” command I shook my head wondering “What the heck was that about?” I knew that for this final attempt I could not afford to make that same mistake again.
As I waited in the back room for my final attempt at 150 kgs/330.7 lbs I began to recap the past few months of training leading up to this event.
Hours of throwing myself under a heavy barbell, countless sets and reps of squats and presses, and dozens of early morning training sessions on days I just wanted to sleep in had all culminated to this one lift.
I have trained for Powerlifting meets and Strongman competitions and I can say without a doubt that training for an Olympic Weightlifting meet was, for me, more difficult than any other training I have ever done.
Olympic Weightlifting is specific: you train to get better at the Snatch and the Clean & Jerk. It takes an incredible amount of patience, determination, and discipline to continuously try to improve those two movements. More often than not, I would walk into the gym thinking “I wish I could do something other than the Snatch and the Clean & Jerk today.” I imagine it’s the same feeling a boxer has when he/she walks into the gym, “I wish I could do something other than get repeatedly punched in the face today.” I would remind myself Why I was doing this and I would imagine myself on this very platform. I never want to look back and say “I wish I put a little more effort into my training.” Sorry to sound cliché but the pain of training hurts far less than the pain of regret.
The most challenging part about exclusively training the Olympic lifts is the fact that you have to put forth 100% effort in every single training session. Lying on a Bench and pressing a barbell up and down is easy. You can go through the motions and finish a Bench Press workout without being fully engaged in what you’re doing. The moment you try to Snatch or Clean & Jerk a heavy weight while putting forth minimal effort is the moment you miss a lift, get pinned underneath a barbell, or get spit out and slammed to the ground. Every week, every training session, every set, and every rep demand 100% effort. (I’ve only been training the Olympic lifts for the past few months and I experienced highs and lows; I cannot imagine what Olympic Weightlifters who have been doing this for 5, 10, 15 years have experienced!)
~NO CRYING During Training!~
As I approached the barbell I could feel my blood pressure rising, my heartrate increasing, and my hate for the barbell growing. I know that if I pull this barbell as hard as I can and I pull myself under it as fast as I can, I can clean this weight.
Big breath, brace, pull, jump, elbows through.
I pulled the barbell harder than I needed to which actually caused a problem.
Bar Crash…
When cleaning, you want to “meet the bar.” This means you should only pull the barbell as high as you need in order to transition under it. If you pull the barbell higher than you need to you create separation between your body and the barbell. This causes your body to hit the bottom of the catch position while the 330 lbs barbell is still accelerating down towards the ground. The result: the barbell crashes down on your collarbones, throws you off balance, and sometimes crumbles your front rack position.
Despite this bar crash I was able to drive the weight up with pure aggression. Once I was in position to jerk the weight I felt strong and ready.
Big breath, straight dip and drive, move.
I failed my final Clean & Jerk.
Looking at the video I realized I was almost too aggressive with the dip part of the Jerk. I drop down very quickly which causes “mini bar crash” on my collarbones. I should have been a bit more patient with my dip. My footwork also needs improvement which was the reason I wasn’t quite able to get underneath the barbell. I’m sure there are other reasons for my missed attempt but those two stuck out to me.
My initial response to missing the weight was frustration. In the video, you can see me throw a tiny hissy fit by whipping my head as I walked away from the barbell. This feeling was short lived.
As I sat and thought about my last attempt I had no reason to be upset. Usually, when I miss a weight in the gym I can always point to something I failed to do that was completely in my control: I didn’t move fast enough. I doubted myself. I didn’t slam my front foot in the ground. I got lazy and dipped forward on my Jerk. I didn’t want it bad enough. I gave up.
I can look at myself in the mirror and honestly say I gave that lift everything I had. I either failed because the weight was just too heavy or because of technique flaws that I didn’t realize until after the meet. At that moment in time, I did everything that I knew I had to do and I did it to the best of my ability.
The satisfaction and pride that rushed over me when I finished this competition was undeniable. Despite my issues leading up to this competition, my inability to train for a few weeks prior because of my conflicting duties as a gym owner, I still put myself on that platform and found out what I was made of. This was more than just a competition to me. It taught me a lot of myself that I would’ve never learned had I stayed home and played it “safe.”
~The MAN! Ian Wilson
Thanks for reading.
TRAIN UNTAMED
