Tag Archives: weightlifting

Cycle 0 test day

Today was test day, which means the sole purpose of my training session today was to see how much weight I could snatch and how much weight I could clean and jerk (C&J)—with good form and technique—and then use those numbers to build my first official program/cycle with my coach. (My coach and I have been working together for the last two months, tweaking things here and there as my injuries have healed and I’ve been cleared to add more movements into training, which I guess is technically our first training cycle together, but it’s not really, you know?, so I’m calling it Cycle 0.)

I snatched 42kg and C&J 52kg, for a total of 94kg at a current bodyweight of somewhere around 66kg, give or take a kilo or two (I truly have no clue how much I weigh, I don’t own a scale). Bodyweight is relevant because weightlifting is contested by weight classes.

In weightlifting, a training cycle typically ends with a “test” or “max-out” day, to see how much progress an athlete has made with their current training program—how much stronger they’ve gotten, and how much they’ve improved their mechanics and technique. Test/max-out day will also expose or highlight things an athlete still needs to work on, and help an athlete and their coach plan out the next training cycle.

Until today, I hadn’t tested or maxed out either of these lifts since around this time last year, and I hadn’t ever tested or maxed them out with my current coach. When we started working together in mid-August, I still wasn’t cleared to lift weight overhead, which means I couldn’t test either of them. Instead, we tested both my front squat and my back squat, and spent the first few weeks focused on squats, pulls, halting deadlifts, and cleans. With the blessing of my physical therapist, we added in (very light) snatches, jerks, and presses in mid-September. Since then, we’ve stuck with very light weights. Until a few days ago, I was still using the 7kg training bar and training weights instead of the 15kg regular/competition-weight bar and regular training plates to train both competition lifts.

Going into today, I truly had no idea what to expect. It’d been well over a year since I last tested any of my lifts, and almost exactly a year since my last “pre”-injury training session (I was lifting injured for weeks before I finally stopped, got everything checked out, and took a months-long break from structured training). Also, I slept like shit last night, which is to say I barely slept at all (period, migraine, etc.).

Overall, I’m happy with how today went. I really wanted to snatch at least the greens (10kg plates) and C&J at least the yellows (15kg plates), and I did! Also, my mechanics and technique were WAY better than they’ve ever been, and my pelvic floor mostly held.

My next training cycle—my first structured one with this coach—starts Monday, and it’ll be based on the numbers I hit today. I’ll train three days a week for four weeks, then test my lifts again. The obvious aim of this cycle is to get stronger. We’ll also be focused on:

  • Staying tight in the bottom of the squat.
  • Consistently hitting triple extension.
  • Shoulder positioning in the snatch, especially when standing it up. (Hypermobility is a bitch.)
  • Jumping out, not back, in the catch.
  • High shoulders in the pull.
  • More aggressive footwork.
  • Pelvic floor control.

I’d like to add 8kg to both lifts at the end of this next cycle, which means I’m aiming to snatch 50kg and C&J 60kg in four weeks. Here’s hoping my Bambi-ass legs will grow for once their goddamn lives!!!

Why weightlifting

A few posts ago I wrote about my change in training plans. Originally, my post-physical therapy plan was to return to my first love, CrossFit, and train competitively for it. My new/current plan is to stick with weightlifting as my primary sport, and keep CrossFit as a for-fun, sometimes thing.

Why? Because I want to and I can.

Also, I like it. Also, I want to be competitive in my sport, and I don’t think I can be competitive in CrossFit—not in the way or at the level that I want to be. Also, change is hard for me (universal and evergreen autistic sentiment) and while initially it was hard to stop doing CrossFit when I started weightlifting, the idea of changing shit up AGAIN is so stressful to me.

Here are a few other reasons why I decided to stick with weightlifting:

1. Social and cultural compatibility

Ultimately, weightlifting is a solo sport. CrossFit can be. Weightlifting just…is. And it feels (to me) less loud (figuratively/culturally), more chill. I’m basing that last part entirely on vibes, which means there’s plenty of room for me to be wrong. We’ll see!

2. Neurological, cognitive, mental, emotional, and financial compatibility

It takes a long-ass time for cues to click in my brain, and even longer for my body to learn what to do with them. This taxes me neurologically, cognitively, mentally, and emotionally in a way and to a degree that it doesn’t tax most non-autistic people. And because of the way and the pace at which I learn (tediously and slowly, respectively), especially when it comes to motor planning and output, I need custom programming and 1:1 coaching. This taxes me financially.

In weightlifting, an athlete needs to focus on a handful of foundational barbell exercises: the snatch, the clean, the jerk, and squats (front and back)—plus accessory exercises to help with those foundational exercises (technically, squats are accessory work in weightlifting, but they’re trained so frequently and are so foundational to the competition lifts that I think of them as, well, foundational exercises).

In (competitive) CrossFit, there are a trillion different foundational exercises an athlete needs to be proficient at. At a minimum, they need to be proficient in the exercises I mentioned above—plus their dumbbell, kettlebell, and single-arm variations—and:

  • The rest of the powerlifts (deadlifts and bench press).
  • A shit-ton of gymnastics movements, like bar and ring muscle-ups, pull-ups, handstand push-ups (including deficit and other variations, like strict, or facing the wall), dips, toes-to-bar (strict and kipping), handstand walks, etc.
  • All sorts of cardio exercises, including running, swimming, rowing, ski erg-ing, and biking (regular bike, assault bike, erg bike, echo bike).
  • A variety of strongman exercises, like yoke carries; sled pushes and pulls; atlas stone, sandbag, and d-ball exercises; farmers carries; tire flips; etc.
  • A bunch of other shit, like thrusters, double-unders, wall balls, rope climbs (including legless), peg board, lunges, box jumps, kettlebell swings, etc.

Plus tons of other stuff, and also the accessory work!

Some CrossFit workouts require you to establish a one-rep max (1RM) for a given exercise. Mostly, though, CrossFit workouts require you to quickly string together multiple reps of a given exercise while maintaining good mechanics and proper form. Usually this is simply strategy—in CrossFit, the fastest athlete/team wins the workout. Sometimes, though, the workout dictates that all reps of an exercise be performed unbroken, and penalizes or eliminates you if they’re not.

As much as I love (and I mean LOVE) the intensity of variability of CrossFit workouts, I’ve always struggled with this aspect of them. Stringing together reps, especially quickly and correctly, has always been difficult for me. Like many (though certainly not all) autistic folks, I don’t have an innate sense of rhythm or cadence, and I struggle with balance and coordination, as well as mind/muscle connection, which in turn (negatively) affects muscle recruitment and activation. This makes stringing together reps incredibly challenging for me, which slows me down, which stresses me out, which often causes me to rush and/or become incredibly self-conscious and begin making mistakes and getting no-reps, which pisses me off—and then it all repeats. For eternity.

In weightlifting, it’s one rep at a time. And there are only a few lifts to master. This means the neurological, cognitive, mental, emotional, and financial demands of weightlifting are more compatible with my abilities, limitations, and needs.

3. Consistency in competition

Full disclosure: While I do have first-hand, lived experience with (non-elite) CrossFit competitions, I’ve not yet competed in weightlifting, so I don’t have first-hand, lived experience with weightlifting meets. I have spectated them, though, and I have close friends who have lifted in national-level meets, so I’m not completely clueless about them.

Also: I’m not saying everything always goes according to plan at weightlifting meets, or that they’re no-stress zones. Shit absolutely goes wrong. Shit absolutely changes last minute (order of lifters, deviations from declared weights, etc.). My impression is that overall, there’s more consistency and less chaos in competitive weightlifting than in competitive CrossFit (could be wrong tho!).

In CrossFit, competitions take place both indoors and outdoors, which is to say: competing can happen in various weather conditions. There are always more than one workout per competition (there are usually three or four, minimum), and often more than one day of competition. Your judge follows you around the competition floor/field/whatever, which can, in the heat of the things, feel confusing and chaotic (was that “no rep” for you, or someone next to/near you? Was it your judge or someone else’s who had their hand up? Was the person shouting that rep count your judge or someone else’s?). Sometimes workouts (or elements of them) are announced in advance, sometimes they’re not announced until right before you do them. Sometimes new exercises and implements are introduced during competition, and sometimes these are things you’ve never trained before.

This variability is a foundational tenet of the CrossFit methodology. CrossFit is all about adaptability and all-around athleticism. And competition, especially at the higher/elite levels, is designed to test this. It’s thrilling to watch the big kids of CrossFit perform under that type of pressure.

But me personally??? Lol! Change stresses me out. Surprises stress me out. Lots of moving pieces stress me out. Having to perform in weather stresses me out. Competing in CrossFit requires more motor coordination and mental agility and flexibility than I have most of the time.

In weightlifting, competitions are held indoors. You always lift on a platform in front of judges who are always positioned in the same spots. You always have three (3) attempts at both lifts, and you always attempt the lifts in the same order (snatch, then clean and jerk). There are never any new exercises or implements introduced into competition. This consistency is much better suited for my autistic brain, which requires as much consistency as possible in order to keep me regulated and help keep autistic meltdowns, shutdowns, and/or burnouts at bay.

The drawback, for me, in competitive weightlifting is that it’s just you up there on the platform, by yourself, all eyes on you. I hate Hate HATE having all eyes on me. It stresses me out so damn much!!! In CrossFit, even if you compete as an individual (as opposed to partner or team), it’s incredibly rare that you’re performing a workout alone, by yourself, all eyes on you. The vast majority of the time, you’re competing in a heat with at least a handful of fellow competitors. When the day comes for me to actually lift at a weightlifting meet, I anticipate this being the most challenging aspect of it for me.

4. A bonus reason

Another reason why I decided to stick with weightlifting is because I just cannot get behind corporate CrossFit HQ culture. I hate giving them my money.

Until I started training at my new gym in May, I hadn’t been associated with a CrossFit affiliate in YEARS (CrossFit gyms are franchises, I write about that more in this post, in the fifth and sixth paragraphs). Since May, I’ve been training out of a CrossFit affiliate. This is something that I have a hard time reconciling. The reality is: Weightlifting is a niche sport in the United States, and many weightlifting teams/barbell clubs operate out of CrossFit gyms. Also, I knew going into this that I want to compete, and that in order to get to that level, I need personalized programming and in-person, face-to-face, literally hands-on 1:1 coaching. Not remote coaching. Not small-group training. Those requirements alone limited the options available to me.

Before deciding to train where I do now, I surveyed a number of gyms in my area. The only gym that had the space, the equipment, the expertise, a schedule that works with mine, and the willingness to work with me, an autistic athlete with competitive goals, was the gym I currently train out of. It was the last one I surveyed.

It’s a wonderful facility with incredibly kind and supportive people. I really, really like it there, even as I really, really dislike corporate CrossFit HQ culture. The only way I’m able to rationalize it is knowing that I pay for a weightlifting membership, not a CrossFit membership (yes, they’re two different things), and, technically, my money isn’t going to CFHQ (yes, this is some questionable mental gymnastics).

Admittedly, I don’t (yet) have the same experience in or exposure to the weightlifting world as I do the CrossFit world, so it’s possible that, along the way, I’ll find out things about USA Weightlifting ethics and culture that don’t sit right with me. Who knows! We’ll see! There’s still time for me to learn to hate it!

*

I want to be clear about two things:

One: I don’t think CrossFit is a universally bad choice for autistic athletes. I think that at this point in my athletic career, and given my goals, of the two, weightlifting is the better choice for me. I think that if I’d had a better understanding of the root of my challenges earlier in my athletic career *and* coaches and clinicians who believed me and worked with me to address those challenges in a supportive environment, I could’ve gone further in CrossFit (and weightlifting, tbh). At this point, though, the idea of competitive CrossFit isn’t appealing to me anymore. I rely on the gym to help level-set my mental health and keep my nervous system regulated. In order to keep doing that, I have to enjoy what I’m doing. Not always, but often. Or at least, often enough. And that just wasn’t happening anymore with CrossFit.

Two: I didn’t decide to stick with weightlifting because I thought it would be easy. It’s not easy. At all. It’s tedious and technical and requires a ton of effort and energy and attention. It is, frankly, really fucking hard. I decided to stick with it because I love it, I have more fun doing it, and I think my body and brain are better built for it.

Training update (change of plan!)

From the time I started CrossFit in January 2013 until 2021, it was my primary sport. I took 2021 off from CrossFit to focus solely on weightlifting. The idea was to get stronger in the Olympic lifts, which I’ve always struggle to get stronger in, so I could be closer to competing RX in CrossFit. When I started physical therapy earlier this year my plan was to return to CrossFit once my body was healthy and make a go at competing RX.

I’ve changed my mind.

Plot twist! Whiplash! Parkour!

I’ve decided to stick with weightlifting as my primary sport, and to do CrossFit-ish workouts on the side—for fun, not for super serious. There are several reasons I made this decision. A big one is: I think weightlifting is better suited to my brain and my body, and the way that the two do (and don’t) work together. Said another way: I think weightlifting better positions me to (1) keep my body healthy (no, CrossFit injury rates are not higher than injury rates in other strength sports) and (2) be competitive.

Photo of me snatching 45 kilos (yellow plates) on a wooden platform. I'm wearing a black sports bra, black camouflage leggings, a black and hot pink knee sleeve on my left (injured) knee, and white Adidas lifting shoes with neon green laces. I'm in the bottom of the snatch position, with the weight over my head. In the background is the powerlifting side of the gym, complete with deadlifting platforms, benches, squat racks and rigs, and weight trees full of iron plates and change plates. The walls of the gym are black and red.
Pre-shoulder injury, and several months into my knee injury. This is a 45kg (99#) snatch. The bar weighs 15 kilos, each of the yellow plates—one on each side—weighs 15 kilos.

My body isn’t quite where it needs to be to jump back into weightlifting full time. I’m still not cleared to snatch or jerk (which is, like, 2/3 of weightlifting), and I can’t yet do pull-ups or push-ups (which are important accessory (successory!) exercises). I *am* cleared to do a bunch of other shit though. All varieties of squats and deads are okay; most types of lunges are okay; and cleans, presses, neutral-grip overhead work (dumbbell thrusters, devil’s presses, etc.), core work, and a ton of accessory movements are okay, too. Running, biking, and rowing have been back in the mix for a few months already.

So…what now?

Microdose my way back into weightlifting—in two simple steps.

Step one: Supplement my 1:1 sessions with one or two barbell training days per week for a few weeks, beginning in mid-August. (Since May, I’ve been working 1:1 with a gymnastics coach two times a week. Our training reinforces and builds upon what I do in PT, and works to improve my aerobic capacity, and endurance.)

Step two: Phase in additional barbell training days until I’m at four a week while phasing out PT and 1:1 training.

How much overlap there’ll be between weightlifting, PT, and 1:1 training will depend on how quickly my body heals. Could be a few weeks, could be a few (more) months. Don’t know. I think we’re close.

About five weeks ago my physical therapist estimated I’d be able to start snatching and jerking in about eight to 10 weeks. We’re halfway through those 10 weeks. Some days it feels like we’re so fucking close. Other days it feels unlikely or even impossible that we’ll get there. We’ve made a ton of progress since I started this round of PT in March, and it feels like we’ve been stuck at this last little bit FOREVER. Historically, being patient has not been a strength of mine. I’m working really hard to change that, and I think I’ve done a good job.

Some good news is: I’ve accidentally been prepping my body for more over the last few weeks. Oops! Pre-injury, I was training 3-4 days a week, for two or more hours per training session. Pre-2021, when CrossFit was my primary sport, I was training 6 days a week, for two or more hours per training sessions, and sometimes twice in a day. Since May of this year, I’ve been in the gym only two days a week, one hour per session.

Until the last few weeks.

My kids have been with me for the last month, and my youngest has been very enthusiastically attending the CrossFit Teens class almost every day that they offer it (four days a week). So, for the last few weeks, I’ve been at the gym three or four days a week, not just my usual two. I’ve been using those extra days to get in some active recovery—mostly different intervals of backward sled drags + C2 bike, and running + rowing—between and around my 1:1 sessions and physical therapy.

Some more good news is: I met one of the weightlifting coaches on one of these extra days—A WOMAN!!! (I’ve only ever had men for coaches)—and we got on really well. We talked about my specific challenges as an autistic athlete, my goals, and the plan I’ve outlined in this post. She was kind, welcoming, passionate, and accepting of me, an autistic athlete (the entire coaching staff at the gym I’ve been training at since May has been incredibly accommodating and accepting, and receptive to learning from me and with me). I’m excited to start working with her and the rest of the team. I AM VERY EXCITED TO GET A BARBELL BACK IN MY HANDS AND OVER MY HEAD, Y’ALL!!!