It’s October 2020. Stop and think for a second about what that means. When I look around at everything that’s going on in the world right now, I can barely believe what I’m seeing. This is the angriest, scariest time period I’ve ever seen. The coronavirus pandemic has crushed our old way of life. Thousands of people are dying and losing their jobs, and none of us know when it’s going to end. For crying out loud, one of your daily routines is walking around wearing a mask. And when you turn on the news, you hear about unemployment statistics that we haven’t seen since the Great Depression.

There’s also rage and violence in the streets on a daily basis. The most controversial presidential election in American history is approaching, with people on both sides of the political landscape threatening chaos and retaliation if their side loses. We’ve been through hell this year, and it feels like it might actually get worse down the stretch.

Gun sales in the United States have gone through the roof over the last six months. Think about that. Do you want to know why more people are buying guns now than ever before? Because they all think there’s a legitimate chance they might have to kill somebody. It’s a miserable era we’re living in.

Which brings us to weightlifting, and all of you. I want to write a little bit about the connection between weightlifting and anger. People have always had the assumption that our sport is fueled by rage. Over the years, I’ve told many people that I lift weights. I can’t even count how many times they responded by saying, “That must be a great way to take out all your anger at the end of the day!” They have this idea that a weightlifting workout is a cleansing where are you flush out all of the bloodlust that’s accumulated throughout your day by hammering the barbell with grunts and clenched teeth. Trust me, people have said this to me dozens of times throughout my career.

So, is that how it works? Does weightlifting help you manage your anger? Or does it make you angrier? Or is there a possibility that the sport isn’t tied up as much with anger as many people think? Is there any way we can think about our weightlifting lives and draw some valuable connections to the insanity of our world these days? Can it be a legitimate coping mechanism?

I don’t know you, so I don’t know if you’re angry people or not. For all I know, you might be as calm and relaxed as a prairie cow. But I’ve been in the sport for a long time, so I’m betting there are probably some of you out there who are a little more in the hothead direction. You’re feisty, and you’ve got a temper. Maybe that’s an asset in your weightlifting life, or maybe it’s a detriment. Is it a refuge shelter, or does it pour gas on the fire?

This is an important subject to look at, and I think it’s especially vital right now because we have every reason in the world to feel mad and frustrated. We’re trying to get through all this chaos, and we’re also trying to keep our weightlifting lives going. Let’s peel away some onion layers and see if we can come up with some useful thoughts.

Case studies

First, let’s address that notion I mentioned about weightlifting being some kind of daily therapy for handling anger. Personally, it’s never been like this for me. When I go to the gym, I’m not purging my rage. I actually don’t even lift well when I’m upset.

I’m guessing most of you probably feel the same way. In my lifetime of being around weightlifters, I’ve come to believe that most people don’t perform well when they’re angry. It’s actually quite the opposite. Most lifters do their best stuff when they’re relaxed and having a good time. When I look back on all the best performances of my career, I realize they were days when I had a half smile on my face most of the day. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t pissed off. I was having fun and feeling happy.

This is how weightlifting works. It’s an unbelievably technical sport, as you know. You can’t flinch while you’re doing it because the movements of the snatch and the clean and jerk basically have zero margin for error. Anger and frustration usually make you flinch. You tense up, and you start to lose control and composure. Once this happens, mistakes get made. Think about your own weightlifting for a second. You know this is true. What I just described is probably exactly the way it works for all of you. If you don’t believe me, try hitting some maximum snatches one of these days while you’re mad as hell about something. See how that works for you.

Some of you like training alone, and your workouts give you that solitude you love so much. Nobody bugs you or pisses you off. You just get to turn on the music and have fun doing what you love. And on the other side, many of you cherish your gym community. You get to be around your peeps, sharing camaraderie and laughs while you push yourselves. Either way, the workout experience isn’t about anger for you. It’s about fun. Whether you’re a loner or a wolfpack member, hitting the platform is one of the best parts of your day. It’s like a shelter from all the insanity.

However, there’s another layer to this that we can look at. Let me give you an example to explain it. I used to coach a lifter who had some major anger problems. I worked with him for a few years, so I got to know him pretty well. I saw his gym behavior, and I also found out a lot about his life on the outside. Basically, this guy carried around a ton of PTSD from combat military service and childhood abuse. He had more rage in him than almost anybody I’ve ever known. I would occasionally catch him punching himself in the face if he missed lifts.

He openly told me several times that coming to the gym and training every day was one of the only things that kept him stable. He wasn’t pissed when he lifted. Like I mentioned above, he did all of his best training when he was feeling good and having fun. But those daily workouts were one of the only times when he felt at ease. The rest of the day, he was walking around on the edge of exploding, struggling to keep it together every moment.

So I guess you could say he did fit that description of what people have always said to me about weightlifting being a way to take out your rage. Going to the gym was the two or three hours he could spend the whole day looking forward to. He knew that when he came to train, everything was going to be stable, fun, relaxed, and controlled. He and I had a good coach/athlete relationship, so he felt solid because he knew I would steer him the right way. I’m guessing he’s not the only example of this, people who need the sport just to keep their minds balanced and stable.

You’re harder to dent

This is all positive stuff. Take a look at yourself and spend a few minutes thinking about how all of this works for you as a weightlifter. First of all, ask yourself a few questions:

1) On a scale of 1 to 10, how angry are you in your normal life?

2) Does weightlifting bring you more joy or unhappiness on a daily basis?

3) Are there any other parts of your life that become more manageable because of your experience in weightlifting?

Let’s stay with that last question for a second. Some of you might have heard of a famous Olympic wrestler named Dan Gable. He’s the primary icon of the sport, and he has a great quote where he said, “Once you’ve been a wrestler, everything else in life is easy.”

I’ve often felt that way about weightlifting. It’s an incredibly difficult sport that dishes out pain and frustration. You have to work for a really long time to get good at it, and you don’t make any money. It requires a ton of internal strength because there’s almost no tangible reward in terms of fame or prestige or financial gain.

Long story short, the sport hardens you. Harder people are tougher to break, so they’re going to be more resilient when they face the difficulties of life.

Sometimes, when I listen to non-athletes talk about their lives, I’m blown away at how fragile they are. I apologize if that sounds cruel or judgmental. It’s not meant to be. But I often hear people complain about how impossible it feels for them to overcome things that I honestly think most weightlifters wouldn’t even bat an eye at. Many people go to the doctor when their shoulder hurts. We just ice it and stretch. Others go to therapy to deal with their life frustrations. We just accept frustration as part of the game and press on.

Let me apologize again if this sounds awful. Believe me, I know we’re not the only tough nuggets in the world. My parents have never lifted a weight in their lives, and they’re two of the most resilient people I’ve ever seen. I also know that there are obviously times when therapy and clinical treatment are warranted and necessary. I’m not disrespecting every non-weightlifter in the world. But I am making the point that weightlifters are often tougher than the average bear because the sport makes them that way. I’ll stand behind that statement.

And I know I keep talking about weightlifters, but that’s just because this is a weightlifting article. I think you could say the same thing for athletes in almost any sport because of the intense self-discipline and resilience that’s required to be a successful competitor.

But let’s get back to anger. Almost all anger comes from some kind of inner demand that’s not being met. There’s something you want that you aren’t getting, and it makes you mad. Respect, privacy, acknowledgment, understanding, success, love, or maybe just being left the hell alone. These are the things you want, or you feel like you deserve. When you don’t get them, it makes you angry.

All of this would be easier if you could have more patience. If you could get better at pausing, taking a deep breath, and thinking about things before you fly off the handle and blow up, you’d probably be a happier person. This is one of the reasons why I think weightlifting makes a lot of people better. The sport force-feeds patience to you. If you really think about it, the long-haul experience of weightlifting is like a training program for keeping a cool head. If you freak out and crumble every time things don’t go your way, you won’t last three weeks. You’re forced to CONTROL your anger, and that control can spill over into many other areas.

Where do we go from here?

I’m an angry person. I always have been. I was bullied and abused as a kid, and I think I developed a mean streak that’s never totally gone away. I’ve been pretty successful in most areas of my life, so it hasn’t crippled me or anything. But I know it’s always there.

I think weightlifting has made it better. When I was a young lifter in the first few years of my career, I would explode in rage whenever I had a bad day. Kicking trash cans, throwing chairs, punching walls, etc. But I grew out of it. I guess I learned that you can’t live like that forever, and it turns a lot of people off. Writing has helped a lot too. I try to make my articles inspiring and positive because that’s what really resonates with people, and I think the good vibes have trickled over into my personality a bit.

Maybe the final thought is simply that some people have to MAKE weightlifting a positive thing in their lives. Changing your personality doesn’t happen by snapping your fingers. It takes time and effort. It’s even more difficult when you’re assaulted every day by the things that send you down into the dark place. There’s no shortage of those things these days. If you watch what’s going on in the world and spend a lot of time on social media, it’s easy to spend the majority of your day in a state of irritability.

Weightlifting is the same way. It’s easy to dwell on your failures. You compare yourself to others, or you over-analyze your technique, or you think about how long it’s been since you set a PR, or whatever. When it comes to frustrations in this sport, just take your pick.

But I’m willing to bet there are more positives than negatives. You might not be thinking about them, but they’re out there. In fact, I’d wager a guess that there are overwhelmingly more positives than negatives. Being a weightlifter is wonderful. If you’re doing it, you’ve got something amazing in your life. And if you’re constantly finding ways to look at it in a negative light, I can guarantee the sport isn’t the problem. Your mindset is the problem, and turning it around is going to take the same kind of sustained effort you’ve put into developing your snatch technique or adding 20 kg to your clean and jerk.