Every now and then life gives you a reminder, friendly or otherwise, that every rep is a privilege.
 
The sudden life-changing illnesses of two fit, healthy men around my age was a recent reminder for me. One of these men contracted flesh-eating bacteria that ravaged his body, causing him to lose both arms and legs in the space of only 48 hours and almost die from organ failure. The other presented to hospital with a high fever one day and within a fortnight was paralyzed from a virus that, to this day, doctors have been unable to diagnose. These shocking events gave me cause to reflect on how blessed I am to lift and how every rep is truly a privilege.
 
Sometimes life is a hard, gut wrenching struggle and we all know of lifters who heroically manage to get the work done despite circumstances that would destroy other people. While we can acknowledge life’s challenges, here are a few thoughts that help me lift with a healthy dose of gratitude and perspective.
 
First World Problems
 
Allow me to assume that most of us who subscribe to Performance Menu are from affluent Western nations. According to the World Health Organization, we enjoy some of the longest life expectancies on the planet. As an Australian male I can expect, on average, 84.6 years! We have ready access quality food, clean water, adequate sanitation and shelter and, thankfully in Australia, free healthcare.
 
In reality, lifting problems are first world problems, not matters of life and death. We are spared concerns such as will the water I drink make me ill, if I get sick will I be able to see a doctor or how do I survive the coming winter with no heating in my home. Instead, we have the luxury of focusing on the next competition or technical refinement our coach wants us to make.
 
It is all too easy to get bogged down in our first world problems and feel sorry for ourselves. Let’s step back from the barbell and have a think about how lucky we are to have problems that only concern adding an extra kilo to our snatch and clean and jerk.
 
Money’s Too Tight (To Mention)
 
We all have bills to pay, mortgages and rent and a never-ending list of expenses. We can all relate to the lyrics: “I been laid off from work, my rent is due, my kids all need brand new shoes” Money’s Too Tight (To Mention).
 
But if we take a closer look, we soon discover that in fact we can pay for a gym membership or purchase equipment to use at home (either way is not cheap). If you are like me you may also be paying a coach, God knows how much for a physical therapist to manage the wear and tear on our bodies, lifting gear like shoes, suits, wraps and belts, competition fees and supplements. We can also add the shopping bill from purchasing high quality food to fuel and support our endeavors. I believe this is money well invested and don’t think a single cent of my family’s hard-earned is wasted in pursuing my Olympic lifting. Let’s just appreciate that we are privileged to be able to afford to lift simply because we love it.
 
You Don’t Know What You’ve Got Until It’s Gone
 
When my family made a sea change last year, we had the usual cashflow issues that come with moving house. I was also now a stay-at-home dad and no longer brought in a full-time wage. My wife and I made an agreement that I couldn’t go back to the gym until I picked up part time work to pay for it. So I made a few sandbags and got stuck into my general fitness, but there was no denying the surge of excitement when I stood back on the platform, barbell in my hands.
 
As Joni Mitchell sang: “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.” It is human nature to take things for granted, so let’s remind ourselves whenever we are away from the platform of what a privilege it is to invest our time in becoming better lifters.
 
Belonging to a Tribe
 
Being a part of the community of Olympic lifters is good for our health. A 2015 meta-analysis of 70 research papers found a lack of social connections was as great a risk factor for early death as smoking 15 cigarettes a day, and was a greater health risk than obesity and lack of exercise. Sharing a common bond and purpose with others helps us feel connected and guard against the ills of social isolation.
 
Even if you train alone, connections can still be made through remote coaching or online communities. Alis Rowe recently wrote in the Performance Menu about how engaging with fellow lifters and building social connections adds to our lives. Best of all, you still get the health benefits of connecting with others irrespective of how much you lift or whether your last session was God-like or total crap. Every rep is a privilege because it gives us a way in which to connect with others, make friends and belong to our tribe of Olympic weightlifters.
 
Love the Shitty Days
 
Dr. Aaron Horschig of Squat University posted, “One day we will all have to leave the weights time for the last time. With that perspective, work hard and be grateful for every day (good and bad) you may have.”
 
I love this quote! It encapsulates why every rep is a privilege. It’s because one day we will have performed our last rep, never to touch the barbell again. The occasional bad day out of what will be thousands of lifts over the course of lifting career is nothing to freak out about.
 
I am not advocating poor reps or crap sessions as standard practice. I’m just saying that it is important to keep things in perspective. Keep in mind that we are lucky enough to have a shitty day and, after we have calmed down, learn from the missed lifts. Let’s love even the shitty days because it is still a privilege to ‘suffer’ through them.
 
I am still a work in progress at reminding myself that every rep is a privilege. Before we grab that empty bar and do our first warm-up set, let’s whisper to ourselves “every rep is a privilege” and train with a gratitude that fuels a fierce intention to make each one count for the blessing it is.
 
Our bodies are fit and strong, we have the financial means to do what we love, are lucky enough to live in first world conditions and belong to a great community of fellow lifters. Let’s embrace the fact that being an Olympic weightlifter is a magnificent and wonderful privilege even if we are moving like the tin man, lifting like cooked spaghetti and missing lifts we totally smashed only a few day ago.