Welcome to my first coach's log!
As some of you may know, my log was moved here from the athletes section last week. There were a multitude of reasons for this, but the main reason is that I am old, and with so many young guns tearing the sport up on the site right now, my log has more value if written from a coach's perspective, especially given my two decades in the game.
For my first entry, I couldn't think of a better topic to write about then an extremely impressive performance from a guy that... well, lets call him a guy that hasn't exactly set the strength world on fire in the few years he's been training with us.
I first met Steve Rizzo about 5 or 6 years ago when I began training at Apollon Gym in Edison NJ. Steve was around 20 at the time, and I believe he competed in the 165/181 classes. His admirable work ethic, combined with his rodent-like body hair and facial features led me to the best nickname I've ever given.
The Iron Ferret.
Despite training very hard, Ferret didn't carry an ounce of muscle, which somehow never seemed to dampen his self-esteem, nor his status as an expert on everything. Needless to say, we spent most of each session alternating between yelling at him to shut the fuck up, and yelling at Steve to gain weight.
He never did shut up, but he did gain weight. Holy crap did he gain. He still doesn't carry an ounce of muscle, but at about 215, his potato of a body now has way better leverages. Ferret is about as far from genetically gifted as I've ever seen. but due to hard work, consistency, and learning to maximize his gear he's been able to make steady progress.
Look at his stupid face... Just...Look.
He was supposed to do a meet last weekend (SPF New England Power Challenge) but chose to pass on it because his training just wasn't coming together. No big deal, we've all done this at one point or another. Assuming it's not a National/World level meet, sometimes it's just better to just put your pride aside and wait until you're more dialed in to hit the platform. Despite his decision not to lift, Ferret still made the trip to help out our training partners James and Karen, who were lifting.
When he got to the meet site however, Ferret decided at the last minute, he wanted to lift. Mind you, he had just done a heavy deadlift workout the day before, and traveled the 3 hours to the meet site that morning. He asked our longtime training partner Anthony Ditillo what he thought, Anthony replied with an enthusiastic "I don't give a fuck". He then told me, to which I answered with "huh?". He finally informed Mike Paper (the most seasoned member of the group) who just stared and shook his head.
With this kind of wind beneath his wings, Ferret had no choice but to follow through on his "plan".
No one had any idea what to expect, but his opener squat (something in the mid-500's) looked good. Surprisingly good. So good we gave him a 5lb. pr on his second with 615. This looked really good. He then hit 650 on his third for a 40lb. pr.
Wait, what? I'm not sure if Steve had EVER hit a 40lb. pr in the squat. I couldn't believe he even got his second, but there was no denying he was the strongest we'd ever seen him, and it was shaping up to be a memorable day.
Now the bench press was going to be the biggest question because this was the lift that had frustrated him the most in training, and he was nowhere near his best of 500. Not even once.
The little shit hit 505 on his third. As it turned out, He finally figured out exactly how to wear his shirt on his third attempt, and it looked better than his previous two attempts (which he got).
We were now in unfamiliar territory with The Ferret. We were 45lbs ahead in the subtotal, so Anthony wisely told Steve to open with 505, which should have been an easy make, even with the previous days deadlift workout, and would give him a 5lb. pr total. It was easy... oddly easy.
We gave him 545 for his second attempt, which would not only guarantee a 45b. total pr, but would also give him his first 1700 total. This would probably be a fight, since his pr was 560.
Another easy lift.
If you've coached long enough, regardless of the sport, you've no doubt encountered an athlete who was "on". There's no easy way to quantify it, you just look at them and you know that within reason, the'll be able to do just about anything you ask of them. It's one of those rare times where the smart call is just about the worst call you could make.
This is where as a coach/handler, you just let it ride, and find out just how deep the well goes that day.
I called for 600, a 40lb. pr.
Steve made the lift, and claimed a 100lb. pr for the day. A day he wasn't supposed to even be competing. Now let's face it, a 1755 total in multiply gear isn't exactly world class. But when you consider how hard the guy has had to fight for every pound he's gained, it was fucking magical. I've had a lot of athletes make me proud over the years, but I've rarely been shocked. And Steve shocked me, which isn't easy to do after all my time in this sport.
He also taught me a few things.
First, inspiration can come from where you least expect it. I've seen countless world records set in this sport, and few have impacted me as much as Steve's performance. In a sense, exceptional people doing exceptional things is expected, almost mundane. But when an dude who's barely even average suddenly whips out a giant set of balls like Steve did, It really makes you take a long look in the mirror and wonder "Am I really doing everything I can do to be my best?".
Second, This sport is about heart and balls. Nothing else. Sure, the best in the world will just about always be there because of genetics. Let's face it, the expression "hard work beats talent when talent doesn't work hard" certainly sounds inspiring, but at the top level EVERYONE works hard, and the difference between the who finishes on the podium and who doesn't is generally determined by chose the best parents above all else. But your PLACE on the podium however, generally indicates who was willing to put their balls on the line just a bit more than the rest.
Third, and most importantly, never underestimate the power of "Fuck-it"
While it's not a great rule to live by, either in lifting or in life, sometimes you just have to say fuck-it, just like Belushi said in Animal House. With "fuck-it" comes freedom. "Fuck-it" can be liberating for an athlete, because expectation can become a limitation as much as a goal. Once Steve accepted the fact that he was making a stupid decision with no chance of success, he was free. No single attempt would ever be as big of a mistake as entering the meet in the first place, so how could he possibly disappoint himself?
The moment Steve said "fuck-it" he became a fat hairy condor, soaring above the rest of us and our narrow-minded "plans" and "good decisions". If Steve had approached this meet like any other, he would have done well, but he probably wouldn't have done as well, because he would have had something to lose. He would have attempted 20lb. prs instead of 40. He certainly wouldn't have attempted the 600 pull, because a reckless third attempt could have cost him a safe, conservative pr total.
But by making the entire meet reckless to begin with, he never had the sense he was risking anything.
I wouldn't recommend this as a long term approach to the sport because it will most certainly get you catastrophically injured at some point, but for many of us who prefer to take safe attempts and lift within our abilities 100% of the time, maybe an occasional "fuck-it" moment wouldn't be a bad idea.
Right now Steve is within one or two good meets away from his elite total in powerlifting, and knowing where the guy came from, this is a big deal. But after this meet, I know he's gonna do that and more. Days like he had are what this sport is all about, and I couldn't be prouder of him.