Squat Jerks And Sunshine: Learning To Have Fun With The Barbell
“Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I want to be the one to walk in the sun
Oh girls they want to have fun…”
Last night, I decided to try squat jerking. I’d never attempted a squat jerk before. We were standing around talking about how to pronounce the names of various Chinese lifters, and I was inspired to try something new.
At the Ninja Mobility Clinic a few weeks ago, we established that unlike my ankles and hips, my shoulders are actually pretty damn flexible. It was weird to be the “best” at something that involved mobility, haha.
So, I gave squat jerks a whirl.
Just for funsies.
Here is Hysen Pulaku doing a squat jerk for shits and giggles. It’s actually more of a thruster into a squat jerk. With 150 kg.
Let’s just say I didn’t hit 150 kg. I managed 60 kg, which was quite enough before Nick and I had a Serious Talk about whether or not I could safely bail on a failed squat jerk from the bottom position. I wasn’t sure if I could, so we agreed that if I was going to fuck around with squat jerks again, I would practice missing before putting more weight on the bar.
It was an important training session for me. As I wrote the other day in A Fond Adieu: Training Happens Whether You Log It Or Not, “I need to learn how to love training for the joy it brings me and not only because there is a huge goal that requires every last ounce of effort that I possess. I need to learn how to walk into the gym and just lift the barbell and not give a fuck. Because if this shit isn’t fun, then what is the point?”
I had fun last night, and it was a productive training session.
It’s not easy to stabilize 60 kg overhead with a jerk grip when you are sitting in the bottom of a squat, and it’s tricky to stand up with it. Getting into that position to begin with means you had to lift without fear. The jerk moves faster than any other lift. I’m certainly not afraid of snatches, and split jerks and I get along just fine. But, a squat jerk was an entirely new beast for me. Fortunately, I have been a weightlifter for long enough that I understand that you cannot think before you go. You just go, and you go balls out.
It was a short session of going balls out without caring what weight was on the bar. That was good for me. I made no assumptions. I had no expectations.
I put on my shoes and lifted the barbell.
Next time, I’m going to try to look more like this: