Memento

The song I wrote this mixed emotions blog to.  Also a song from the movie Love Liza, a movie on my top ten list.  If you haven't seen it then please do.

Cheers, hi, hello, good morning.  I wanted to write something on this beautiful morning that grew goose bumps six feet tall, taller than a Weightlifters ego.  A gut wrenching piece that stands the hair up on the back of your neck, like the audience giving a weightlifter a standing ovation from their made lifts.  I wanted to write a piece that helped people train harder.  A motivating coffee trip, an amazing story about weightlifting, sun, and flowers.  Smiles, fist pumps, and three little white lights that brighten up the room with joy, and a buzz that stings one another with goal reaching achievement.  I could try, I could lie, I could write like a college kid who is brain washed to write what the teacher wants, or I could write how I really feel.  I should feel really bad this morning from my bomb out at yesterdays MDUSA tryouts.  Yes I am on the A team, Donny and my spot has been secured from day one, but this did not keep me from competing and trying. shit....Its fun! Plus I wanted to show the rookies who's boss, but I forgot my boss hat at home I guess. I know my spot wont be secured forever, I must step my game up, excpecialy with all these hungry Weightlifters coming after me.  I am feeling the heat, and fast.  Maybe my good mood comes from the journey that lies ahead of myself, and with everyone on the new Muscle Driver Team.  I am seeing gold down the long road ahead, even though the journey looks rough and pain full. Gold for my teammates, and the growth of an exciting creation that is being built all around me.  I am really just happy to lift side by side with so many great lifters, a great coach that always supports me, and you, a great Weightlifting community backing each other up to the death.  All this will make any man smile and continue the good fight.

Maybe its the song I am listening to that has me in a happy mood, or just simply how this sport makes no sense, so there is really no need of getting down.  I shake my head with frustration followed by a smile of "fuck it, whatever".  I throw my hands up looking for someone or something to blame, but there is know one but me.  I throw my coffee against the wall looking for an answer, but there is non.  I am sorry Miss Brown eyes, I will never throw you again.  This is sport, this is athletics, this is Weightlifting.  This is the Dark Orchestra, a stage that can give you the best day of your life, a place that can give you a single purpose for being on this planet, and at the same time, a place that can put you in depression and tears.  A place that can doubt your very existence.  Fucken Weightlifting, back stabbing son of a bitch.  I love you, but I hate you.  Why do you hurt me?  See now I am getting mad all over again, a roller coaster of emotions is what I am.  All the time I give you, spent with you, and story's and memories we have shared with each other.  Why?  I guess to know happiness we must experience sadness, and sadness is something that comes with the weightlifting kit you buy at the store.  Something we will all experience at some point, something we must put behind us and move on from.  But no, today I am actually ok.  I love this sport, and I love writing to you.  I love my team, my dog Daughter, Wife and my Coach.  I love being a weightlifter, what else can I say?  This bomb out.... I mean this hasn't happened to me for over two years, so I knew he could be around any corner just waiting for me.  He got me.

150 miss, 153 miss, 155 miss.  Yes I went up every time, witch might have not been the best decision, but who cares, I went for it.  I got so pissed that I walked back on stage and made 155 for my fourth attempt, lol, an attempt that I made my own.  175 make, 180 make, then took a big jump to 190 and missed the jerk.  I will say my lower back played a part in that miss, but at the end of the day that's just an excuse.  Life goes on, training will continue, and the MDUSA team will grow with new lifters, new dreams, and more upcoming bad asses.  This is just a talk with blog, there is know real meaning behind this, just a chat.  A chat about the common bomb out, a chat about Weightlifting.  What am I suppose to talk about?  I have no answers for what happened.  The bar just didn't land where it should have.  Pull, finish, miss.  This equation doesn't work.  I have found to win in this sport you must pull, finish, and then catch.  This equation is correct.  Bad luck?  Nerves? stop Jon!  stop trying to figure it out, just get back to training, and try again. 



No this did not count, but before they could strip the bar I ran back out and made it. 

Well my coffee is almost all gone, and this means my fingers are slowing down.  I hope my bomb out can motivate you.  Maybe I can take one for the team, so you wont have to.  A blog full of real life is what this is.  No bullshit, no lies.  The best thing I can write about is the truth of what this sport has to offer.  Up front and honest.  Even though I still cant figure out why I am not more down today.  Maybe it has to do with the fact that shit could be a lot worse, and there is know time for me to bath in my own self pity.  So fucken salute, carry on, slam bars and win meets.  talk to you later my good friend. 

Three Whites 2016