I was pretty fortunate in the beginning of my weightlifting career because I got to meet Dragomir Cioroslan not too long after I started the sport. For those of you who don’t know, Dragomir is a former Olympian from Romania who became a coach after his competitive career ended. He was hired to take over the USA resident weightlifting program at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs in 1990. Under his direction, our US guys in the 90s did some of the best lifting in American history. Amazing coach and a hell of a nice guy. Believe it or not, he had a pretty rough introduction to the sport when he started it as a kid. Listen to this story and compare it to your own beginning.

Dragomir was a sickly child when he was growing up in Romania. I think he told me he had a disease that held back his growth when he was little. I don’t remember exactly what it was, but he weighed something like eighty pounds when he was eleven or twelve. When he walked into a weightlifting gym for the first time, the coaches started laughing at him. They asked him what he wanted, and he said something like, “I just want to be a normal child.” So they let him start training, basically out of pity. About a year later, he won a European youth championship in his age group. From then on, his career was a rampage. He eventually clean and jerked a Romanian national record of 200 kilos in the 75 kg class (that’s 440 at 165, in pounds) and won the Olympic bronze medal in 1984.

Everybody reading this article probably had a better introduction to strength sports than Dragomir did. Even if you weren’t exactly championship material right from day one, I doubt if any coaches started laughing their butts off when you walked into a gym for the first time. That would be a hard pill to swallow and I’m sure your introduction was kinder than that. But we all know there are people who don’t really fit the mold of weightlifters when they decide to start training with the barbell. To take it a step further, we all know people who have been training for a decent amount of time…and they still don’t show any signs of becoming a successful lifter at any point. I want you to think about somebody in your gym who fits this description. They’ve been training for a while, but they still just can’t seem to get it right. Either the strength isn’t there, or the technique isn’t there (or both). After all the teaching, training, time and effort, the athlete just isn’t moving forward. And it’s not like they haven’t had the opportunity to develop. They’ve put in the hours and work, but it’s just not happening.

At some point, this makes you think “the thought.” Come on…you know what I mean. Whether you’re the coach or a training partner to this person, it crosses your mind at some point.

“Maybe this one just doesn’t have it.”

We can admit this. After people have spent time training and they’ve had solid instruction, their talent is supposed to start kicking in. They start making progress and catching on because the hard work and coaching they’ve received has blended with the natural ability they have. So when an athlete gets to this point, and they still don’t make progress, the logical question is, “Does this person have any ability?”

As a training partner, this makes you feel sorry for the person, but you don’t really get too bothered about it because you’re so focused on your own lifting. As a coach, this is a crappy moment. First, you probably blame yourself when the athlete doesn’t improve. You think it’s your fault. Then you see all the other athletes you’ve coached and how much improvement they’ve made, and that reassures you because it’s obvious that you’re doing something right. That leaves the question about the athlete. If everybody else is getting better and this one person isn’t, maybe they just don’t have the tools to be good at this.

So, what are you supposed to do at this point? I’ve got a few ideas on the subject, actually. Read on.

You’ve got a couple of options…

There are different ways you could handle this. Let’s take a look at a couple of them.

A) Tell them to quit.

Okay, I guess we can just come right out and say it. It’s always an option to explain to this person (in a very nice, non-insulting way) that weightlifting might not be an area they’re going to be successful in. I’ve never done this personally, but I know other coaches who have. If the athlete doesn’t show any legitimate potential after a reasonable period of time, there’s a conversation where the coach basically says, “Look, maybe this just isn’t right for you.” I’ve even known a few old-school guys who were much blunter about it, saying stuff like, “You’re wasting your time with this. Go learn how to play an instrument or something.” Most likely, the athlete will walk away at this point and never come back.

As you can probably guess, I’ve got a few problems with this option. First of all, if you’re a coach and you’re running a business, you don’t want to turn away dues-paying members. I don’t think there’s anything selfish or wrong about saying this. You need revenue to keep your program going, and money is all green regardless of the level of talent of the erson has who’s paying it.

But there’s another reason why I don’t believe in telling anybody to quit, and this one actually leads into the next option you have as a coach.

B) Look at this person as a long-term project.

With this type of thinking, you realize there’s such a thing as a late bloomer in this sport. Believe me, I’ve seen plenty of them over the years. With these athletes, it’s pretty obvious that they’re not going to rise to the top of the heap quickly. It’s evident to everybody because weightlifting is a place where it’s painfully clear who the best people are. Everything is so measurable in this sport. If one athlete lifts 200 pounds and another one lifts 300 pounds at the same bodyweight, there’s not much debate about who the best lifter is. With the types of “long-term project athletes” we’re talking about here, these people are the ones who are falling behind the pack in the early days, plain and simple. Other people are making progress faster than they are. Much faster, in some cases.

As a coach, this is where you need to have a little faith in your ability. You need to have a little ego about it, really. You say to yourself, “I can make this athlete successful…eventually. It’s not gonna happen right away and it’ll take a long time, but we’ll find a way to get it done.”

Once you’ve said this to yourself, the job gets easier. You go into it knowing that progress isn’t going to come quickly, and that makes the whole thing less frustrating. In fact, I think it’s a good idea to have a conversation with the athlete where you actually tell them exactly what we just said. Be honest. Openly tell this lifter it’s going to take them a lot longer to make it to the top than everybody else. There’s nothing wrong with this, as long as you make it clear that there WILL be a payoff somewhere down the road.

Make sure you don’t get carried away with it. If this athlete has trained for a year and still can’t clean and jerk their own bodyweight, you might not want to promise them that they’re going to win the Olympics someday. Just say something like, “Listen, it’s going to take you a lot longer to make progress than some of the other people you train with. That’s all there is to it. But if you keep working and make a commitment to doing the right things, you’re eventually going to be good at this.” Trust me, it might be exactly what this person needs to hear. And if they get discouraged and quit, there’s nothing you can do about it. You were fair and supportive with them, and that’s all you could do.

Oh my God, what if it’s YOU we’re talking about?

We just went over the strategies a coach can use when handling an athlete who’s significantly behind the pack. But what if you’re not a coach who’s trying to guide one of these people? What if this article hits close to home, because you (you personally, the one reading this article) are the lifter we’re describing? You’ve been lifting for a while and it’s pretty obvious that you’re not the most talented stud out there? Well, there are a couple of things I can say to you too. Actually, let me just ask you a question.

Why are you doing this? Seriously, ask yourself why you’re lifting. Hopefully, you’re doing it because you love it and it makes you happy, plain and simple. You enjoy training and you like what it does for you, so you come to the gym and work out because that’s how you have fun. If this is the case, then it’s probably not a death blow if other people are getting ahead of you. It pisses you off because you’re a competitive person, but it doesn’t stop you from enjoying your weightlifting.

If your main focus is how you stack up compared to other people, then we might have a problem. This puts you in a position where you have to realize that there are some lifters you’re just probably never going to catch, so where does that leave you? If your whole reason for being a weightlifter is a desire to be better than everybody, that’s fine. But when it starts to become clear that there are people out there who have more talent than you (maybe a lot more, in some cases), then you’re in sticky territory. Thoughts might start creeping into your head like, “I’m only doing this because I want to be the best. I’ll never beat Ilya Ilin, so why am I wasting my time?”

I don’t like this mentality because it gives other people control over your career. If the performance of another lifter is something that could potentially make you quit, that’s not good. You’re letting your competitors determine your weightlifting life. Because unless you’re Ilya Ilin or Lu Xiaojun, there’s probably somebody out there who’s better than you. I don’t think it’s very courageous or resilient to allow somebody else to force you out of the sport.

Do you want to be a weightlifter? If so, DO IT! Quit thinking about all that other crap and focus on yourself, not other people.

Tell the truth (to yourself, too)

If you’re a coach (or a peer), and an athlete comes up to you and asks about their ability, don’t lie to them. I’m a big believer in giving people straight answers. Don’t tell them they’re gods if they aren’t. (Actually, don’t tell them they’re gods at all…even if they are).

You should never tell somebody, “You’re not cut out for this; you should quit.” Do you want to know why you shouldn’t say it? BECAUSE YOU SHOULDN’T BELIEVE IT!! There’s nothing wrong with giving athletes your straightforward opinion. But your opinion should be a reflection of how you really feel, and your true feeling should always be that there’s still a chance for this athlete to do something big. Maybe not “big” as in winning an Olympic gold medal, maybe “big” as in making a new PR weight they’ve been chasing for a long time.

I was talking to an athlete not too long ago about this. She felt that there was no point in continuing with weightlifting if she couldn’t beat the current national champion. Okay, I guess I understand that mindset. But just because I understand it, that doesn’t mean I agree. If this gal quits the sport, my personal way of looking at it is, “Great job, congratulations. You just let somebody else force you out of weightlifting.” To me, this is shameful. It’s like you ran away from a fight or something.

Listen, you probably aren’t going to win an Olympic gold medal someday. I’m not being negative by saying that, it’s just a fact. There are millions of weightlifters in this world, and only seven women and eight men win Olympic gold…every four years. That means the odds aren’t in your favor. Hell, they aren’t in anybody’s favor. You should always dream of becoming the best in the world, and that dream should be a big part of what fuels your fire. But your career as a strength athlete should be about more than winning. This is something I believe all the way down to my marrow. It should be about becoming something better than you once were. A better lifter, a stronger person, a greater contributor to the lives of other people. These are the things that are going to make your fight with the barbell worthwhile, so they’re the things you should focus on. Medals are shiny things that hang on a wall. Your personality and your body are the things you walk around with every second of the day. If you like what you’re doing and it’s making you better, why should you quit? Dream big, but keep the right perspective on what you’re doing.