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Friday, December 28, 2012

Bar Contact Part 1.

I write to you later than usual tonight for one reason and one reason only, and that is concentration.  A midnight write is purely a refection on "what the hell just happened today" kind of experience.  Did I really punch a hole in the gym wall, or did I bottle my anger further down inside my gut for the release date from hell.  Am I really the champ, or just some punk elementary school kid ding dong ditching throughout the streets of mini vans and culdesacs?  Break a bar through the platform while the steam from my tea swirls around my white eyes. I write stories that have already come true before typing, but while typing, I try to reflect on what the flying space monkey really just happened, and did it?  People tell me that a midnight read is just as relaxing, and just as spiritual.  I tell them that I wouldn't know from the simple fact that I don't read. They ask me why I don't read as they look down upon my little body holding my small brain in my little hand.  I look up and respond by saying, "I can't stay focused for more than one page, before having to go back and reread that same page over again to only find myself more lost than I was before reading that same page the first time".

I think about bar contact while having a midnight smoke outside, on my very cold deck with no shirt on.  A shirtless lifestyle is how I choose to go about my life, and when I do decide to wear clothes they are black.  Black like tonight, black like the gym walls, blacker than the devil in the red dress' eyes, blacker than rest.  Nothing is blacker than rest.  If it was up to rest, I wouldn't be outside constantly trying to figure out better and easier ways to lift the barbell over my big head.  If it was up to rest, I wouldn't try these crazy ideas over and over again 'til coming to the conclusion I probably had too much coffee, but.... yes there is a but. But, if only one sticks, then just maybe I can lift more weight, and by lifting more weight, I could change the world by jumping off this cold white painted deck and simply start to fly. Because let's be real, flying is what we all want.  Flying away to freedom, self reliance, control, decisions, and peace.  This is what rest can't understand, and never will.  This is how and why she single handedly ruins lives and weightlifting careers. She my friends, is the devil. 

Bar contact.....why so over looked? Why not talked about? A sad story is what this is to me, a story about a kid that never had a chance, overlooked and pushed to the side.  I am in the making of putting together another hit and catch drill that I think will help many people, including myself, figure out better timing and a better relationship that we and the bar must have in order to lift more weight than we are lifting now.  Just a tool, not a be all.  Just another advantage that could possibly determine a win from a lose. Who really knows.  Shit, I don't, I just try, lift, and do what works.  If timed correctly, or whatever correctly actually is, let's say - if done well, then the bar will bend as if leaning your partner over in a dance while reaching for a kiss....and getting it.  It's a beautiful feeling, and a better sight.  This is how I have the weakest legs in USA weightlifting, but currently am the number one weightlifter in the country. But "they" don't speak about fight club.

Part 1.)  The hit allows the bar to become motionless in outer space, like a monkey in a space suit floating around with no real panic or concern.  The monkey just is, like the steam from my tea, or the smoke from my smoke.  Now we are allowed to use the bar as if the bar was connected to the wall. The bar is not moving up nor down, it is paused like YouTube.  Now we meet the wonderful world of physics, a world that allows us to pull, no wait...whip ourselves under the bar to catch, NOT squat catch, but simply catch.  The next time I hear the term squat snatch, I'm going to jump and not be so lucky to fly.  This is why I disagree personally with the triple extension, aka the scare crow.  Pulling yourself down on an upward moving bar, limits the athlete's torque under the bar.  The athlete will therefore, move slower under, catching the bar too high, and we all know that 90 degrees is the underworld waste land of bad balance and a constant fight between you standing up and the bar slamming down upon your rocky position.  The faster you get under, the lower you will catch the bar, the lower you catch the bar, the more weight you will lift.  Leading us back to one simple rule, we're not supposed to talk about fight club. 

Part 2.)  Next week.

Fight Club 2016

1 comment:

  1. "The hit allows the bar to become motionless in outer space, like a monkey in a space suit floating around with no real panic or concern." where... the... hell... do you come up with this stuff??? The best part is i am so visual and when i read your blog i picture everything you are talking about... picturing a floating monkey in outer space was hilarious. You are truly the man.