Release the demons

In my sport, injuries happen. They do. Torn quads, tendons, rotators, backs, wrists, knees...something is bound to get jacked up. When you've been doing it 12 years, the bell is going to ring every now and then. When it does, and you are put on the sideline, it cages the beast and the demons inside you. All they want to do is escape and rage. You have to let them. When you don't, days like today happen.

 The Break

Today I hit a wall in my own training.

Actually, I haven't been training the last 3 weeks. I've been "working out". I haven't had a goal. With the back being a stubborn little jerk, everything has been upper body. By upper body, I mean bench press and curling because bending motions and twisting the trunk inflame it.

In between one on one sessions today, I benched. I had no plan. Just went through the motions. Spent a lot of time in between sets staring at the warehouse ceiling. Playing on my phone. Things that I would berate my lifters for doing; letting the mind wander and not being present. I just quit halfway through the "plan" I had and sat in a chair and ate crackers until the next session.

On one hand it's nice to give my mind a break. Training takes so much out of you mentally. I throw everything I have into it. Example: last year at Nationals after my final lift, I walked off the stage, past a group of people, slumped against the wall and burst into tears. Tears of relief. I could relax. My 7 months of training was over. The barbell is my best friend and my worst enemy. To paraphrase Beyonce, I have sweet dreams and beautiful nightmares about it.

The Crisis

On the other hand , I question my existence without a plan. Throw in someone bringing up Nationals today and insert an existential crisis . I've been fighting this injury since Nationals last year. I thought "Sweet baby jesus...it's been this long?!...What am I doing with my life?" Then of course you start looking at old videos and pictures. That's healthy right? (answer: ABSOLUTELY NOT).

Down the rabbit hole I went and I looked up some state bench records (aka what I can compete in at the moment; albeit it's without arching because that inflames it). My bench has always been very weak due in part to my unfused shoulders. I did a cycle semi-recently and it improved drastically. It's all I've got right now so it has my undivided attention.

The Plan

Looking at those records and seeing how very close they were to my own PR fire lit my fire. I was hungry. Actually--I was ravenous. For a highly competitive individual, being gone one month, two months, let alone six months, takes a toll on you. I harnessed that hunger into coaching and programming and it's been great.

The Platform

But once an athlete, always an athlete. There is nothing like being on a platform. The 1000 yard death stare looking at the bar. The tunnel vision. Being oblivious to everyone and everything except that head judge's hand and voice. Those seconds you stand on the platform after a lift waiting for the lights to decide your fate. Competition brings out the best and worst in people; their true character is exposed.

I long to get back to that plywood. I'm not cleared for a barbell on my back or picking it up off the floor so I signed up to do the BP portion of a full meet. $65 for 3 lifts. To some that might sound insane. Lead by example, put up or shut up. I lift for myself and to battle off my own demons. They've been bottled up too long the last few months (please see other blog posts about the ED and recovery). The only way they can be released is by genuinely training and being on a platform.

Back to the hellhole we call training I go. I'm gunning for that record. I'm releasing the demons. When you see them, I suggest you run the other way. They've been waiting to get out.

This video got me to and through nationals (and a lot of other life events). Here we go again my friend.

Sharing Is Caring

Growing up we are taught that "sharing is caring."

Sharing doesn't just mean sharing your snacks. Sidenote: anyone that knows me knows that Amber loves her some snacks. If I ask you if you want some of my food, you, my friend, just ascended to the next level of friendship. If you share a snack with me, watch out because I might bite your hand off as I go to take it. Dirty D and the Fat Rabbit below are my spirit animals.

As I've gotten older, I realize sharing also means sharing your experiences and your story.  I can't attribute this nugget of wisdom to the barbell alone but being able to tell my story through the barbell has allowed me to grow exponentially as a person. The barbell is the ultimate acknowledger of your breakdowns and your breakthroughs. I have many videos of me jumping high in the air or squealing after a PR but I have even more videos of me swearing at the bar and roaring. In my best breakdown caught on film, I literally shoved the barbell across the room and followed it as dirty slurs flew from my mouth. This was after I slung a PVC pipe the length of the gym.

Every time I have a new client or I go to a gym to coach trainers, I tell my story. I tell the good, the bad, and the ugly. The records, the championships, my athlete's accomplishments but I also tell of the injuries, the setbacks, the shoulders, and the eating disorder. Nothing is too personal. By sharing my story it helps open the doors for others to share theirs. Even if they never speak about it to me, I know it lessens the stigma of talking about it to others. Sometimes people put you on a pedestal but no one is perfect. Except maybe Donny Shankle but that's here nor there.

I make it a point to list off the names of every coach and mentor I've learned from too. I make it a point to say that you never stop learning. Learn from me in this session and take all the knowledge bombs I've accumulated over the years and make your own. Share my story, share my cues, share my mentors!

Why do I share? Because my mentors shared with me. I'm not anywhere near their expertise yet but by traveling and meeting new lifters, coaches, and programmers, I can be one day. And it's all because they were open to share with me. Don't be afraid to ask for help or advice. Just make sure that you share what you learned with others. That's why anytime someone comes to me with a genuine thirst for knowledge, I help them any way I can. There's a difference between asking for help and wasting my time because you're too lazy to find an answer yourself. I took one of our young MSWLC lifters under my wing and he is starting to shadow coach with us with the caveat that he has to find an article every week to discuss with us. We all share and grow from the experience. Foster relationships and share everything you learn.

I had one of the best compliments of my lifting career the other day. As I was leaving a facility, my athlete called me Sensei. I thought back to all of the Senseis, mentors, lifters and those in the weightlifting/powerlifting community that helped mold me. So here's a short list for you guys. Seek them all out in some or fashion. You won't be disappointed.

ROLL CALL! 

 My personal Sensei, best friend, and MSWLC co-founder Tyler "TPain" Smith.
Our mutual Sensei, accomplished lifter and coach, Justin Thacker (call him today for a ABC seminar; thelabgym.com)
Thacker's grasshopper Pat Mahoney
Current USAW Nat'l Champ and business extraordnaire Samantha Zimmerman
Jason Poeth
MDUSA's very own Rebecca "BexxMixx" Gerdon
Matt Bruce
Gayle Hatch
CJ Stockel
Kim Treggo
Wendi Crotts
Mississippi Weightlifting Club
Chris Lachney
Richard and Kimmy Trowbridge
Chris Spealler
Danielle Hudes
Mike Taylor
Ellen Underwood
Dex Hopkins 
Liberty Barbell Club
Cal Strength and the countless hours of YouTube rabbit holes I've been down

Without them, Amber wouldn't be able to travel around on weekends doing this:

Thank you to every one I've run across on this journey so far.

Strong is not the new skinny

This injury has been having me fight with myself and my body the last five months. The barbell saved my life before in showing me that a number on the scale didn't matter. Before I found the sport again in 2008 after a brief hiatus, I had been so wrapped up in loosing weight and body fat composition and what size my pants were. After finding the barbell again, I went the opposite direction: my self worth was predicated on how much I could lift--my strength. Instead of calorie counting, I counted the kilos on the bar and that measured my self esteem. If I wasn't skinny, I had to be strong. I have an addictive, perfectionist mentality. I couldn't just be strong. I had to be the strongest. Even if I was just competing with myself. It's safe to say I substituted one demon for another.

Enter the Great Back Injury of 2013.

When I was stripped of squatting, dead lifting, front squatting, cleaning, snatching (you get the point), I lost my identity. I didn't want to eat. I had feelings of disgust at my body. "You aren't even strong anymore," I thought.  Don't get me wrong, I still lifted what I could (hello upper body) but when you are surrounded by the CrossFit boom, all you hear is "Strong is the New Skinny". While it's great society is slowly shifting to a positive view of empowered females, I'm not so sure we should equate our self worth with how much weight is on our back. How is that any different than equating your self worth with a number on the scale or a jean size? In this case maybe I need to say your Nike Pro booty short size or inseam.

With all of the weightlifting club stuff and my coaching career really picking up speed, it has showed me that I am more than weight on the scale, more than my muscle mass, and more than what I lift. Those things are a part of me but what really makes me is inside. It’s my heart, my passion, and my drive. Two of my personal programmers are gym owners whose lights have dimmed and needed fire. In sharing my story and my passion for the sport, it's helped rekindle theirs. There is excitement for their own sessions, but more importantly there is excitement from them to coach again. That is the greatest gift I could ever give someone.

As the numbers metaphorically shift on the scale and certain areas of my body expand or diminish, those qualities haven’t been stripped. If anything the light they provide shines brighter and brighter every day. Otherwise none of this would be happening. Sometimes I think I’m too involved in this sport, in my athletes, and with constantly seeking more and more knowledge (practical and theoretical). Maybe I annoy some with all of my Facebook and instagram posts...heck even this blog: they all correlate to weightlifting and strength sports. But then I quickly get my wits back about me and I just think all that means is I’m so passionate that it can’t help but pour out of me and into every facet of my life. If I can share that love and that light, then I will. Because that is what makes a difference in your life...not how much you squat.