Tag Archives: Weightlifting

This is one of the issues that rarely come up in weight lifting discussions, but it can turn out to be a cause of problems. One is that it can prevent a lifter from making the best effort to complete a lifelong PR. I unwittingly developed my ability to escape when my parents enrolled me in judo classes as a teenager.

In judo sport there is a constant double to get into a more favorable position and to overcome the opponent. An athlete can be thrown by the opponent, but can position the body so that a full point is not scored.

This can ultimately result in the mat reversing. This ceaseless jockeying for position and leverage continues throughout the game until a fighter is declared the winner or the timer ends the game. A key skill acquired in judo is the ability to flee – the ability to get out of a dangerous situation, often in a very short space of time.

Rediscover escape

So I knew I had this ability when I started lifting weights. I haven't given much thought to it, put any emphasis on it, and until recently never thought about coaching it. However, I discovered the value of it one day when I got into a situation that could be dangerous.

It was a normal training session in the old downtown LA YMCA. There were about 6 or 7 of the regular lifters there with coach Bob Hise II, and we worked in Clean & Jerk singles.

My legs were always behind my clean one, but everything I could get up with was jerky with an excellent elbow lock. This special opportunity was intense training at the end of a week and we were probably more tired than we thought.

I came to 110, which corresponds to a weight of 90%. I cleaned it with some difficulty and brought a typical mill to a standstill. At that point, I thought I had nailed the jerk. I pushed the weight straight over my head and, to my surprise, my elbows could not block and the weight started to fall from above.

In many cases it would have been normal to lose weight forward or backward and just step out from under it, but this time it could only come straight down. And it did! It actually hit my head. In a flash I realized that if I did nothing I could be seriously injured.

Adrenaline hit and it was a lifesaver. I immediately pancake and went to spread out. I knocked the bar down to make sure I wasn't holding the bar anymore so I wouldn't risk wrist injury.

On the way down, I found my head was deeper than it was wide and turned my head to the side instead of planting on the face when I fell to the floor. It's amazing what goes through your head at a time of extreme danger.

The bar landed on the floor, hurt nothing and just rolled forward, barely turning my head. The whole incident was more embarrassing than an indicator of failure.

I walked away relieved, but still more certain of my ability to escape the danger.

encounter

I haven't thought about it at all during much of my coaching career. Most of the time, most of the lifters I trained were juniors and seniors. Most of them had started their athletic careers at a young age and learned many general athletic skills. I've seen a series of harrowing escapes made possible by the escape ability of some exceptional athletes.

I have recently worked with more master athletes, many of whom started their athletic careers after the age of 40. They were not involved in grappling or physical contact sports because escape skills were developed.

As a result, they hesitate to descend to the lower position of the zipper and are less likely to split the jerk. In the case of the Snatch, conventional thinking was that there was a mobility problem, but since then we have all found that many who are reluctant to get into the Snatch can do a real squat overhead. So it's not a mobility problem.

I assume that some of my top athletes who are reluctant to get into the full snap position will be hampered by a lack of confidence in their escape skills.

I have no strategy to deal with this problem. My first observation is that escape is achieved during a certain time window in younger years. I suppose someone could find a way to acquire these skills, but I'm not sure if many of our traditional practice protocols would be very effective.

I only identify one situation here. I think that coaches who work with inexperienced master athletes should take this into account when dealing with this population. Some of them may never be able to descend to a lower position without leaving an escape route for themselves.

This also applies to athletes with good shoulder mobility, who prefer not to put their head directly under the bar in the back. Ah great. Another dilemma to think about!

If you would like to learn more about Takano weight lifting or would like my help with your weight lifting programs, please contact me on the gym's Facebook page or website.

This is one of the issues that rarely come up in weight lifting discussions, but it can turn out to be a cause of problems. One is that it can prevent a lifter from making the best effort to complete a lifelong PR. I unwittingly developed my ability to escape when my parents enrolled me in judo classes as a teenager.

In judo sport there is a constant double to get into a more favorable position and to overcome the opponent. An athlete can be thrown by the opponent, but can position the body so that a full point is not scored. This can ultimately result in the mat reversing. This ceaseless jockeying for position and leverage continues throughout the game until a fighter is declared the winner or the timer ends the game. A key skill acquired in judo is the ability to flee – the ability to get out of a dangerous situation, often in a very short space of time.

Rediscover escape

So I knew I had this ability when I started lifting weights. I haven't given much thought to it, put any emphasis on it, and until recently never thought about coaching it. However, I discovered the value of it one day when I got into a situation that could be dangerous.

It was a normal training session in the old downtown LA YMCA. There were about 6 or 7 of the regular lifters there with coach Bob Hise II, and we worked in Clean & Jerk singles. My legs were always behind my clean one, but everything I could get up with was jerky with an excellent elbow lock. This special opportunity was intense training at the end of a week and we were probably more tired than we thought.

I came to 110, which corresponds to a weight of 90%. I cleaned it with some difficulty and brought a typical mill to a standstill. At that point, I thought I had nailed the jerk. I pushed the weight straight over my head and, to my surprise, my elbows could not block and the weight started to fall from above. In many cases it would have been normal to lose weight forward or backward and just step out from under it, but this time it could only come straight down. And it did! It actually hit my head. In a flash I realized that if I did nothing I could be seriously injured.

Adrenaline hit and it was a lifesaver. I immediately pancake and went to spread out. I knocked the bar down to make sure I wasn't holding the bar anymore so I wouldn't risk wrist injury. On the way down, I found my head was deeper than it was wide and turned my head to the side instead of planting on the face when I fell to the floor. It's amazing what goes through your head at a time of extreme danger. The bar landed on the floor, hurt nothing and just rolled forward, barely turning my head. The whole incident was more embarrassing than an indicator of failure.

I walked away relieved, but still more certain of my ability to escape the danger.

encounter

I haven't thought about it at all during much of my coaching career. Most of the time, most of the lifters I trained were juniors and seniors. Most of them had started their athletic careers at a young age and learned many general athletic skills. I've seen a series of harrowing escapes made possible by the escape ability of some exceptional athletes.

I have recently worked with more master athletes, many of whom started their athletic careers after the age of 40. They were not involved in grappling or physical contact sports because escape skills were developed. As a result, they hesitate to descend to the lower position of the zipper and are less likely to split the jerk. In the case of the Snatch, conventional thinking was that there was a mobility problem, but since then we have all found that many who are reluctant to get into the Snatch can do a real squat overhead. So it's not a mobility problem.

I assume that some of my top athletes who are reluctant to get into the full snap position will be hampered by a lack of confidence in their escape skills.

I have no strategy to deal with this problem. My first observation is that escape is achieved during a certain time window in younger years. I suppose someone could find a way to acquire these skills, but I'm not sure if many of our traditional practice protocols would be very effective.

I only identify one situation here. I think that coaches who work with inexperienced master athletes should take this into account when dealing with this population. Some of them may never be able to descend to a lower position without leaving an escape route for themselves. This also applies to athletes with good shoulder mobility, who prefer not to put their head directly under the bar in the back. Ah great. Another dilemma to think about!

If you would like to learn more about Takano weight lifting or would like my help with your weight lifting programs, please contact me on the gym's Facebook page or website.