Powerlifters and Olympic Weightlifters love to engage in verbal brawls. These brawls are almost always centered on the question of “Who is really stronger…powerlifters or weightlifters?” No matter how many voices of reason attempt to intervene with the idea that the two sports are simply quite different and difficult to compare, most coaches and athletes in both sports will throw rational thinking out the window and dive into a conversation that closely resembles two cavemen clubbing each other in the head with dinosaur bones. These exchanges pop up in articles and internet message boards quite often. But despite the fact that these arguments are frequent, it is noticeably rare to see athletes from powerlifting or weightlifting actually attempt to cross the great divide and convert from one sport to the other. Most powerlifters never try weightlifting, and most weightlifters never try powerlifting.



However, there have been some amazing examples of crossover success. The two most popular case studies in this department, and the favorite arguments of the powerlifting faithful, are the accomplishments of Mark Henry and Shane Hamman. Both Mark and Shane were record-holders in powerlifting with some behemoth numbers to their credit. They both left their squat/bench/deadlift days behind and became Olympic Weightlifters, and they both won multiple national championships on the way to becoming Olympians. So, does this mean that every strength athlete who attempts to convert to a different sport will have the same success as Mark and Shane? The answer is clearly “NO” because not every athlete has it in their destiny to make an Olympic Team. But the question remains, “If lifters decide to convert from one sport to another, can they expect to have success?” The answer is a complicated one with several variables to consider. This article will examine my own personal experience in this area along with some analysis of the basic challenges associated with jumping the strength sport fence.

The Reasons for Converting

Why would an athlete want to walk away from a sport they have trained seriously and competed in, especially if the athlete is talented and has tasted success? Furthermore, why would an athlete leave a familiar sport to move into a new area where he/she has to go back to being a newbie and start from the bottom again? Each individual has their own reasons and they are all unique, but my personal journey from powerlifting to weightlifting began with some internal conflicts about what I wanted to accomplish as an athlete. First, a little background information is needed. I began competing in powerlifting when I was fifteen years old and, fortunately, I experienced quick success. Less than a year after my first competition, I won the high school national championship and broke several state records in my age division. I continued competing and training for two years and I was able to make significant progress with no real coaching or training partners. However, there were certain elements of powerlifting that I could not get comfortable with. These issues become the foundation for my move to Olympic Weightlifting.
First, I was bothered by the supportive gear used in powerlifting. I competed in the late 1980s, long before the use of support gear was the complex science it has become today. But even back in those days, lifters were using squat suits and bench shirts to add huge numbers to their competition lifts. I used this gear myself. And even though I wore my suits/shirt loosely, I still knew that there was absolutely no way that I would be able to squat or bench the same weights if I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. For whatever reason, this bothered me extensively and I considered it a shot to my pride. The second major issue in powerlifting that I could not swallow was the existence of multiple federations in the sport that all conducted their own state, national, and world championships. In my opinion, this situation cheapened the title of “National Champion” or “World Champion.” If there were six or seven other lifters in my weight class who had also won national championships in different federations, how could any of us legitimately state that we were the best in the United States? At one point, my deadlift was an official national record in my age division and bodyweight class. But I knew that there were other federations where athletes of my same age and weight had deadlifted more than me, so the record was a hollow one. All of these factors might not have been bothersome to most athletes, but they certainly did not sit well with me.

However, I gradually began learning and reading more about the sport of Olympic Weightlifting during my powerlifting years. All of the problems of supportive gear and multiple federations did not exist in weightlifting. There was one state champion, one national champion, one world champion, and these champions won their titles with their muscles and talent instead of using the newest triple-ply bench shirt that added thirty extra pounds to their competition total. In my perspective, the sport was a much more pure test of skill and a much more definitive test of who the best lifters really were. And as an additional piece of bait, the chance to compete in the Olympics someday was a magical thought. The Olympic Games are the most sacred sports event in the history of the planet, and powerlifting is not a part of it.



Therefore, the allure was there. The excitement and interest in trying to conquer a new area was in place. Still, the obvious question remained, “What does it take to convert from powerlifting to weightlifting?”

Mental and Physical Obstacles

When I decided to try Olympic Weightlifting, it almost seemed like it was going to be too easy. This idea started when I picked up a copy of IronMan Magazine in 1988 and read an article about how a weightlifter named Dean Goad had recently done a 365 pound clean and jerk in the 165 pound class, and that lift was a new junior national record. “365 pounds?” I thought. “I can deadlift over 500. I know it’s tougher to put the bar over your head, like in the clean and jerk. But I’ll bet I can do 365 because deadlifting 500 is easy!”

It is not difficult to see where this story is leading. The first time I attempted to do an Olympic Lift, it was all very simple. I went to the gym, put 135 pounds on the bar, tried to clean it, and fell over backwards with the bar landing on my femur. All of a sudden, that old bench shirt seemed very, very comfortable.

There are several obstacles involved in transitioning over from powerlifting to Olympic Lifting. One of the biggest and most important obstacles is simply finding a coach. Because of the relative simplicity of the powerlifting movements, I had been able to make fast progress in the sport without having a coach’s eyes on me. Many successful powerlifters do not even use coaches. Weightlifting, on the other hand, is extremely complex and incredibly difficult to learn if there is no coach present to teach the basics of the snatch and clean and jerk. And even if a powerlifter is able to find a good coach to teach the Olympic movements, the mental battle is a fierce one. Going from being an athlete who can easily hit a 500 pound squat to being an athlete who is getting owned by a 150 pound snatch is humbling, to say the least. If the athlete is hungry and competitive, as most strength athletes are, the process can be maddening. The athlete has to have patience to learn the Olympic lifts. If the athlete has no patience, it will be force-fed during the learning process.

And then, if the athlete is persistent enough to find a competent coach, the physical challenges begin to surface. For most former powerlifters, flexibility is a problem. The usual culprit areas are the wrists, elbows, shoulders, hip flexors, and ankles. Because of the relatively short range of motion in the power lifts, the muscles and connective tissue often develop in a way that creates stiffness and, in some cases, prohibitive or “muscle-bound” lack of flexibility. The longer the athlete has spent intensely training the bench press and powerlifting-style squats, the more limited the flexibility is likely to be. I had two factors that benefited me when I converted: a) I was only 18 and had not lost my ankle flexibility yet and b) I was not heavily muscled in the upper body. This second factor worked against me as a powerlifter because I was a weak bench presser. But in weightlifting, it was a positive attribute because I had solid lock-out in the elbows and I was able to fix the bar comfortably over my ears when performing snatches or jerks. Any powerlifter who has a severe lack of flexibility prior to beginning weightlifting training will have to begin with an extensive stretching program. All of the stretching that is performed in this program should be directed towards attaining the positions of the snatch and clean and jerk. Generally speaking, pre-workout stretching should be more ballistic and post-workout stretching should be more static. The positives and negatives of both types of stretching are outlined in Greg Everett’s Olympic Weightlifting: A Complete Guide for Athletes & Coaches. It is worth mentioning that I did a large amount of intense pre-workout static stretching in my early career, and I suffered frequent muscle pulls and partial tears during training. These injuries became much less frequent when I abandoned pre-workout static stretching and moved to more ballistic, movement-centered stretching.

Interestingly, the conversion process from powerlifting to weightlifting is when it becomes obvious that there are different types of strength involved in both sports. Here is an example. When I was a powerlifter, my strongest lift was the deadlift. It is clear that the pulling movement of the deadlift relies heavily on the back muscles. Because of this, I concluded that I had a strong back. However, when I began training the Olympic lifts, I had an extremely difficult time keeping my back flat and tight. Heavy cleans and front squats would put me in the “turtle-back” position where the spine is rounded and the elbows are collapsing forward. It made no sense to me because the turtle-back problem indicated that I had a lack of back strength, along with a weak overall core. How could I have a lack of back strength if I had an outstanding deadlift?

The answer is that a strong back in powerlifting does not necessarily guarantee proper positions in the Olympic lifts. The muscles of the spinal erectors, trapezius, latissimus, and infraspinatus have to be developed in a very particular way to keep the strict, flat-back position necessary for the Olympic lifts. These muscles are not going to be developed in the correct manner if they have been trained to haul up maximum deadlifts in a grinding, rounded-back fashion. The only way the transition can be made is through extended training where the athlete pays constant attention to detail and physically forces him/herself to maintain a flat back posture. After hundreds and hundreds of reps with light weights where the muscles are required to contract in a way that keeps the back as flat as a board, the athlete will eventually be able to maintain proper positions.

The Process of Training and Competing

To make the transition even more complicated, the issue of developing an effective training program must be tackled. It is worth mentioning that this was a much bigger problem around 1990 than it is now because of the internet. These days, a new lifter can Google “Olympic Weightlifting” and come up with a variety of sample training programs and message boards where there will be mountains of information. Twenty years ago, it was much more difficult. I can recall having to mail (no, not e-mail…MAIL) coaches around the state and ask for help with training programs.

Fortunately, there were a few good coaches who were willing to show me the bare bones of a training program involving sets and reps, pulling exercises, volume/intensity in the squats, etc. The routine I used in the early days was not terribly complex:

Monday	Tuesday	Wednesday	Thrusday	Friday
Snatch	Rack Jerks	Cleans	Snatch	Clean and Jerk
Clean Pulls	Power Cleans	Snatch Pulls	Clean Pulls	Snatch Pulls
Stop Squats	Pressing		Front Squats	Back Squat
Abs	Abs	Abs	Abs	Abs

This was the general outline I used. I almost always did doubles and singles in the competition lifts and triples in the pulls/squats. However, the weights I used on a daily basis were problematic because my approach was very simple; I went as heavy as I possibly could in every exercise every day, often not stopping until I had missed several attempts or had a mental meltdown, or both. I still had no coach to work with me for the first two years and the idea of using light weights to improve my technique seemed morally wrong (remember, I was eighteen years old and on my own). Needless to say, minor injuries and failed attempts quickly became a consistent part of my training. It would have been extremely helpful to hold back on the weights in the early days and focus entirely on positions as opposed to poundage. Looking back now, I should have spent a great deal of time practicing snatches and clean and jerks with an empty bar or PVC pipe in the beginning.

Also, one of the notable problems from those days is that I spent a lot of time working on power snatches and power cleans instead of forcing myself to perform the full movements. I believed that power snatches and cleans would make me better at finishing the pull. And, of course, I was much more likely to miss a lift if I tried to perform the full version because of my inexperience and rough technique in the bottom position. As with many beginners, I could power snatch more than I could full snatch. With these two considerations, I probably performed 70-80% of all my training lifts as power movements. The obvious result is that I was very good at power snatches and power cleans, but I had shown little improvement in the full lifts. My idea that performing power movements would make me better at finishing the pull was partially correct, I believe. But the pull is obviously only part of the movement. The receiving position of a full lift has to be trained and memorized by the motor system as precisely as the pull does.

However, even with all these early mistakes, there are still a few positive ideas from the transition process that I would recommend to potential converts. One of these ideas is jump training. I did quite a bit of plyometric work during my first two years of training the Olympic lifts because all of the literature I read indicated that Olympic Weightlifters had tremendous jumping ability. I would usually finish each workout with a few sets of box jumps and depth jumps to improve explosiveness. As with anything else, it is entirely possible to do too much jump training and I definitely did too much. Patellar tendonitis was not far behind. However, the basic idea of using jump training in the early part of an Olympic lifting program is essential, especially if the athlete has a prior background in a sport that emphasizes slow movements like powerlifting. It simply has to be incorporated into the training program with some planning and common sense.

In addition to all of these training considerations, the questions of competition should be addressed. When is an athlete ready to compete, and how frequently should he/she compete in the early stages of training? Different coaches will obviously have different philosophies on this. My personal idea is that athletes should begin competing as soon as they have a strong command of the movements. When they can perform snatches and clean and jerks with a solid level of technical proficiency, let them enter meets and compete. However, beginners should have their attempts chosen very carefully. The competition goals of beginners should be A) go six-for-six and B) set new personal records. Winning trophies and medals should be emphasized less than personal performance, because most newcomers will likely be beaten by more experienced lifters in their early meets. Additionally, it is the coach’s job to instruct the athlete on how to compete. No athlete should shy away from tough competition. If a rookie enters a first meet and happens to be competing against an experienced national level lifter, the rookie will be demoralized if the coach has emphasized winning as the primary goal. At my first competition, I competed against a national champion who beat me by 115 kilos. Instead of being discouraged, I was inspired by the huge weights I had seen this athlete lift. I walked away from the meet saying to myself, “I want to be as good as that guy some day.” Newbies should be energized by seeing incredible performances, and it is the coach’s job to teach that idea. I also believe that newcomers should compete frequently. It is essential that the athlete gains experience and develops a sense of being in control on the competition platform. This will happen if the athlete gets a lot of “platform time” and completes a lot of successful lifts.

Overall Perspective

After the swelling has been iced and the chalk has settled, the question remains; “If lifters decide to convert from one sport to another, can they expect to have success?” The answer is that it all depends on the athlete. As mentioned, there are a variety of physical variables that have to be examined such as flexibility, elbow lockout, coordination, agility, and others. Long-term powerlifting training can certainly put the athlete behind the eight ball when it comes time to convert to Olympic Weightlifting because these physical variables are developed so much differently than they need to be for Olympic success. Physically, there are some athletes that are clearly “naturals.” Mark Henry snatched 150 kilos in the first weightlifting meet he competed in. That is a fairly strong indicator of physical potential.

However, as any weightlifter can tell you, having the body is only half the battle. You also have to have the brain. After twenty years of competing, training, and coaching, I now subscribe to the idea that there are two types of talent: physical and mental. And no athlete can be successful without a long supply of both. Weightlifting will not forgive laziness or lack of discipline. Unfortunately, it will also not forgive a lack of athletic ability. The sport will strenuously test every physical and personality trait you possess. It is the individual journey of the athlete to make a complete commitment, press the gas pedal to the floor, and see how far the journey goes.