Winning: A How to Guide for 2017

Before Nationals, we were told we could choose the music we wanted to lift to. At first, I hated this task and thought I would just not do it and let play whatever was playing. But I couldn't do that. I knew I'd have FOMO the moment the meet started and everyone else had cool music. So I come up with a playlist, and I was actually really proud of myself for doing it! I'm not a music person, so this was outside my comfort zone. The song that was to play on my second attempt deadlift, the lift that I had planned to put first place out of reach for anyone else was "All I Do Is Win" by Dj Khaled. Now I was having some fun with this but because the song was stuck in my head for the weeks leading up to the meet, I found myself saying it all the time. If I had a meeting at work, before I left the office, people would say good luck, I would say "all I do is win", so you get the idea. It has since been stuck in my head and taken on quite a few different meanings.

Fast forward to after actually winning the meet, all of my family and friends, there's all this buzz and chatter about going to world's and sponsorships, etc. So for a brief moment I get into it, I try to post more, hashtag more, build more of following, send some e-mails, you know important things. Obviously nothing much has come of it as far as a sponsorship goes, not to say it won't or that I've completely given up, but for now, that's where it stands.

The other night with my family, they are asking about sponsorship and make comments like "seems like it would be easy to get a sponsor, just tell them what you've done". That's when it hit me.

I have a small following (and I'm grateful for that), but compared to other athletes that may or may not rank as highly as I do, I'm really just a tiny little fish. I don't train or write programs for other lifters, I don't buy a ton of products or apparel, I'm not all that interactive with other lifters on the internet; I don't schmooze or network. It's just not my bag. I'm really just fine with that.

So I say to my family:

It's not that easy, I don't have much to offer companies. All I do is win.

The good news is I love winning and I love lifting and I love competing and I love getting better and I love my team and my people and love getting to be a part of them getting better. And that's enough for me.

So let's get to the point. What is winning? What do you define as winning? Winning is everything. You can decide that you are going to win anything and everything. Is winning just being number one? Is winning just beating your competitors? Is winning just having the most at the end of the day? Hell no. At least not how I define it.

Winning is taking the little idea that pops into your head and seeing it through. Winning is taking action NOW and not waiting until Monday or the first of the year. Winning is coming up with a plan and working the plan. Winning is NOT beating yourself up when you get off track or miss a rep or have a shitty session or shitty day at work. Winning is leaving all that behind and getting right back on the fucking horse. That's how you win.

Let me break it down for you.

1) Come up with a goal. I know you've thought of one.

2) Now, take it from your brain to real life.

3) MAKE A PLAN, MAKE A PLAN, MAKE A PLAN

4) Write that shit down. Get specific. Include dates.

5) Take action. NOW.
Do not get stuck in the waiting place. The waiting place is a graveyard for losers and ideas that never became anything more than an idea. The waiting place is for quitters. That's not you. You are a winner and the time to win is now.

6) Beware of the feelings.
You will have feelings and they will fall within the range of fear. Self  doubt, failure, not good enough, like you've ruined it, like you suck, like you don't belong, like everyone is better than you. You will have days that you don't have feelings of motivation. Take those feelings and stomp them into the ground. Then stand on top of them as you do the things that you've you planned out to reach your goal despite your sweet little insignificant feelings. Repeat. Do that until you're standing on top of the goal you set.

7) Ignore everyone.
All of your well meaning friends and family (bless them) will question you. All of their little feelings (fear) will come out when they ask you about how it's going and what you're doing to get there. Ignore them. You can teach them how to win by ignoring them and chipping away at your goal.

8) Roll with the punches.
Things will happen. Things won't go exactly as planned. That's ok. It's 100% normal. What's not normal is making the adjustment and sticking to plan. Normal is quitting. Normal is the ever elusive "starting from a clean slate" which is usually the following Monday after a binge of not winning, which turns into the eternal restart.  You're not normal anymore. That alone will put you into the winning category.

9) Do not give one single shit about failing
Failing is absolutely not the worst that thing that can happen. If you follow steps 1-8, failing is not the end. It's only the beginning. The experience of getting after a goal and taking an idea from your mind to real life, that's fucking winning. It's way more bad ass to see someone fail, time after time and their spirit not be broken than to watch someone live some mediocre life and not even scratch the surface of what they are truly capable of.

10) Believe
You must believe in yourself. It is often our own minds that are the hardest to tame. It is hard to think of yourself as doing something great, as being great. It is more difficult to truly let your mind go free and believe that you can accomplish these seemingly far fetched goals. Train your mind to get rid of toxic thoughts of doubt and fear. You already believe that it exists within you because you thought of it on step one, everything else is bullshit.

Can I coin the term "fearlings"? Seriously, fearlings are the grim reaper of the greatness that lies within you and you must defeat them. Every time you defeat them, you win.

So if you follow me and see the hashtag, #allidoiswin, you know my secret. It doesn't necessarily mean that I can not be defeated via competitive powerlifting, I can, and I will be, it's inevitable. It's just not enough to stop me from winning. Winning is choice. I will choose winning every time. Will you?

#allidoiswin #poweryourown

The Notebook (by Annie, not Nicholas Sparks)

My beloved notebook is running out of room.  After this week, I’ll have three more pages, which means I’ve got three more training weeks, which means I’ve gotta get my ass in gear and find a new notebook!  I’ve known I was running out of pages for a few weeks now and knowing I’ll be filling it up soon has got me looking back over the pages from the past two plus years’ worth of training sessions.  The very first entry is from August 18, 2014.  A Monday so it was bench day (and duh, who doesn’t start on a Monday?).  That session was touch & go 6-6-8.  My numbers were 80lbs x 6, 85lbs x 6, and 70lbs x 8.  Its so funny to me now to see that.  Not funny in a “haha let me make fun of myself for being so weak” way, but more of a “oh my gosh, have I really improved that much” kinda way.  My last session of 6-6-8 from a couple weeks ago (according to my handy dandy notebook) was 130lbs x 6, 135lbs x 6, and 120lbs x 8.  The first squat session was 135lbs for 6 sets of doubles and this week’s doubles were at 205lbs.  The first deadlifts back in August of 2014?  165lbs for 15 singles.  This training cycle, I started with 15 singles at 235 (which just so happens to be my 3^rd attempt from that very first meet!). And today was test day, I pulled 330 and was oh-so-close to pulling 340.  Do the math.

                My first real powerlifting meet was in July of 2014 and I started training with Wade Johnson the following month.  Wade said “get a notebook, write stuff down.” So I did.  Of course, I found a cute little spiral bound one with pink flowers and “Believe you can” written on the front because #girlie, but it had blank pages so it served the purpose.  I’ve been known not to follow directions well, but I’m glad I listened to this one. 

Every session since 8/18/14 is written down in there, the PRs, the misses, the days when I skipped assistance, and even the blank spaces where I missed entire sessions.  One thing that I don’t see written down in there though, are meet results.  It just hit me, right now at this moment, I neglected to write down anything related to meet day lifts.  It’s not because I didn’t have my notebook with me on meet day (believe me, it’s ALWAYS with me), but nope, not a single meet lift is written down in there!  It certainly wasn’t intentional, but I wonder why I did that??  Don’t we train so we can put it all together on the platform for the coveted 9 for 9 and big PRs on meet day?  Oh there are entries with projected meet attempt selections written on pages titled “MEET WEEK!” but none of the actual results.  Hmmmm.

I’d like to claim that the reason for this omission is because I’ve always just “embraced the process” of training.  Yeah, that’s it.  I’ve never been upset over a missed lift or a bad session or having to make adjustments because my body just hurts too damn bad and I know all of that is part of it.  That would be a flat out lie.  But maybe, just maybe, I had an inkling of how important the process really is.  Maybe I know how much I like to look back and see progress.  Maybe I’m psychic.  Nah, that’s not it either, maybe it was just a fluke and the natural progression of how things work out and I just did what I was told to do.  We always document the PRs, the big moments, and the highlights, and even if we don’t share them, the lows and the misses are just as much a part of it and just as important.  If it weren’t for the bad days, the good ones wouldn’t be so sweet.  That's really easy to say and type, but pretty hard to accept!

When I look back through the pages, I don’t just see a bunch of numbers scribbled down.  I see my whole powerlifting life with little pieces of real life sprinkled in all over the place.  That week I went on the cruise for Cassie’s bachelorette party?  Yeah, that’s in there, written in as “workout on the boat.”  Or that time I hurt my back coaching gymnastics:  “pulled 135 for 2 singles, couldn’t even put the bar down.”  It’s all in there. My story.  My journey.  My process.  If I try to imitate somebody else’s process, I begin to lose sight of my own journey and my own goals. 

Speaking of goals, I remember when all I wanted to do was bench a plate.  One hundred and thirty five freaking pounds.  Impossible!!  That’s just crazy to want to do that!  But you know what?  I did it.  On July 23, 2015 to be exact (I know because my notebook says so).  Now when I think “All I want to do is squat 300,” I have no doubt in my mind that it WILL happen.  And it will be documented in the new notebook (and probably highlighted and circled with a big pink sharpie).  Imagine the possibilities in all aspects of life when we stop putting limitations on ourselves!  To sorta quote a girl "perceived limitations are BS!"

One of the things Wade always says (a Wadeism if you will), is: “If all I’ve done is make you a better lifter, then I’ve failed you as a coach.”  If all I’ve done is lift some weights, then what’s the point?  If in the process of lifting some weights, I’ve become stronger, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, all of the “lly’s” then I can look back through the pages and appreciate the process that much more.  My life over the past two plus years has been a rollercoaster. Mostly good, some bad, lots of change and growth and more change.  Training has been one of the constants and so have my people.  Most people don’t understand why we do what we do, and to them, it is just lifting weights.  To me, to us, it’s a way of life.  A lifestyle.  It’s not all that we are, but something that we do.  My little notebook documents that part of my life and helps me remember #allthethings. 

                Moral of the story?  Get a notebook.  Write stuff down.  And when you get hung up on the Insta-Celebs who lift 1 million more pounds than you do (or do whatever it is that you wanna do), flip back a few pages, look in the mirror and make the only valid comparison necessary:  you vs. you. 

You’ll thank me. 

#believeyoucan

#poweryourown

To you, she is a champion...

One of my girls…a team mate, training partner, gym member…but, one of my girls learned, as she will tell you, how to be a champion. And somehow, in the mix of that, she says I helped. She wrote an incredible blog and truly has a voice and I’d not only suggest you read it and the rest of her blogs but, I’d watch, listen and learn.  You might ask, how do you respond to such a post on social media? And the answer is, you don’t, you can’t really so, what to do? Well, I choose to offer my perspective and tell you about my part.

But first, a few things and people to mention.  The unsung hero here is Mike, Michael to her, I call him Mike. Mike is the other half of the Millican parental units to 2 wonderful and delightful children. He works; he takes care of things while Mom is training. He’s also a strong lifter in his own right in weightlifting.  The genes the children have received will soon enough be known. He has an undeniable spirit and in his eyes, you can see the joy that is brought by watching his wife and the love he has for her. He is the glue. It is a wonderful thing to see.

Second, Arron Thomas. He does the programming. That’s right, she doesn’t do my programming. This is a young man, whom I have known since he was little playing football with my son. When I say he is bright, it’s clearly an understatement. You may not know him now but, you will. He is a wizard with putting things together and is open minded and in time, he is going to be as busy as he wants to be. I wish I had time with him in person. He’s one of the people I’d like to work with but, we do what we do and he, he is the brains.

Third, the team. See, many of you are just hearing about Jenn. That’s what they call her. They watch, offer support and honest criticism as they want to see her be that champion she has spoken about in her latest blog. I have a picture in Missy and my house.  It is when they called out the best lifter at the SPF women’s pro/am…Annie, Missy are squeezing Jenn. It is one of those moments that define team and team pride and team sharing. Those 3 competed, hit great big pr’s and had a tremendous day and Jenn got best overall.  The emotion caught and shared in the picture is a constant reminder of the value of your team mates and that your training partners are your most valuable commodity in the gym. They are the foundation.

So, now me…where do I fit in here? I am all the little things in between I suppose. See, Jenn and I have come full circle. When she chose to do different programming, I was pretty shocked. She was making such great progress. I was hurt, even pissed but, she was a team mate, a training partner so, I left it alone and that’s making a long story very short but, with some time, I figured it out. We had lots of talks and it dawned on me how I was to be of best service to her. Jenn will tell you about things that she feels I have taught her or a Wadeism that has stuck and so forth. My job really is not about coaching or teaching or whatever else you may think. My job is to help her reveal the champion she is. My job is to be the constant voice that says, you will do this, not can, not try, DO! You can, you will, you must! See, lifters that compete and are good and, I’m lucky enough to have a gym full of great lifters and athletes, but those lifters don’t need me to convince them that they are good but, the expectations here are much, much higher. Titles, winning, records, all-time records, best overall.  These are the expectations. So, imagine, if you will, here I am and I have this 5’ tall 125 lb lifter that wants to be the biggest lifter of all. How do you stand up to that…week in and week out in training, the responsibilities of being a wife and mom?  Just every day pressures and then when you compete, the expectation is history. It doesn’t ask alot, it demands it. See, I get to see the fear, the tears, the anger and frustration.  I see the moments where she is unsure and then when she’s fired up and the whole gamut that makes her who she is and most of the time, it’s really not easy. In fact, it’s really hard.  So, when she’s fearful, I know she looks to me to quell her fear. Sometimes it’s a subtle word or two or sometimes, well most times, it’s me going wtf Jenn just f’n do it for f’s sake. When she’s angry or upset, I have to be the calming voice of reason. When she’s unsure, I have to be absolutely certain. My job is to dig under the surface of doubt, fear, sadness and anger and reveal all the surface things you, in turn, see as a champion. The confidence, the focus, the ease in which she does things and the smile.

I am simply the guide. I make suggestions, help the lifter scheme, and I’m the proverbial extra hand on the wheel. For Jenn, I call her Shorty, it’s about a little guidance. I don’t lift any of her weights, work her job, and do all the things as a family person that she goes through day in and day out. I am the fractional things that are necessary to make all the cool things work well together and for her and the team, this has helped us be successful.

On this day, I had a great day going into Jenn’s session. Rusty competed in his first national meet and did well and hit some pr’s. Annie went 8-9 and hit a huge 325 pull. It had already been a super good day for the team and I was super happy with how everyone competed. Jenn was nervous, very nervous. So, hopefully, I was calming. I knew once she hit her 3^rd squat, it would just be about building the total. I won’t bore you with a blow by blow account. It is blurry anyway. But, I was surprised when she got called for her fanny on her opener but, I knew I needed her to have momentum, even if it was 2.5 kg’s so, I went up. Usually, I’m adamant about repeating but, this was to be a championship performance and repeating would not do. Once she hit her 2^nd and her 3^rd bench, I knew it was over. Noone would be able to total enough. Noone would be able to pull enough to nudge her on the total. We had run a myriad of emotions and energies. In the end, Jenn not only became the 2016 57kg national champion, she took best overall lifter. For many, they will see this as just lifting weights but, for us, it’s a way of life and for those of us that know Shorty, this is of no surprise or shock. Simply, she revealed to everyone this year the champion we’ve always known.

My highlight was three fold. When she hit the last pull and we knew it was done, she ran off the platform and leaped into Mike’s, her husband’s arms. She has a great picture of it and I know that sense of elation and for the two of them to share it, priceless. 

The second was simply having a beer and bourbon with my team mate. To you, she’s a champion but, to me, she’s my little buddy Shorty and I got to be there and witness it. Not the end result but all the stuff in between the beginning and then to the finished last lift. And last, prior to the meet, the messages back and forth talking about attempts, the sheet with white out and the back and forth about her goals, then doubts , then more numbers and changes and more white out and then her greatest gift to me. Simply put, her trust and for me, that is truly golden. 

So, to you, she is Jennifer Millican and she is the 2016 USAPL 57kg national champ and best overall lifter and to me, she is Shorty. So, to my little buddy Shorty! We are not surprised, not even a little. While I am proud for you, I know your best is yet well ahead of you. So, back to it…this is just the beginning…

2016 Raw Nationals and Your Bullshit Perceived Limitations

2016 Raw Nationals. The recap. This is it.

My training cycle was on fire. I was making lifts that I never imagined I would be making. Like when I hit two freakin plates on bench. I remember when all I wanted was one plate. I was squatting 350 for reps. FOR REPS! It's no secret that I'm a confident lifter, but I was even surprising myself.

Sometime after being on fire, maybe 8-10 weeks out, I started feeling burnt out. I was sick of getting up early, I was sick of rushing, I was sick of my stupid shoulders, I was sick of not seeing my kids, just burnt out. And I was really sick of being in the 57kg weight class! I was burnt out on all the things but I still wanted it. I still wanted to take Nationals. So I trudged forward.

These feelings took a hit on my confidence. I've pretty much always made all my own attempt calls. Some consulting here and there but I've been the one going to table for the most part. I take a lot of pride in that. I was struggling to come up with a plan. I would write down numbers and think, "there's no way". My training was telling me one thing and my brain was telling me a different thing. Perceived limitations.

They announce primetime lifters. I knew I would be on the roster, I didn't know who else would be. After it's announced, I start doing my research. I signed up to do Nationals for one reason, win. So you bet your ass I knew my competition. I was about 80% sure I could take the 57kg weight class. Unless Kelly Lin was sandbagging even slightly, I knew I had it. Then I start looking at Wilks, just in case. I wanted best lifter, but I was pretty sure I didn't have a shot. I look at the numbers. Weird. If I had a pretty good day, I had a shot. I would have to be on point with attempt calls, but I had a shot. While I didn't want to come out and say I wanted best lifter or that I wanted to go after it, I freakin wanted it, bad, and I don't really care who knows it.

If you've read any of my other posts or spent any time with me at all, you know I'm a competitor. I play to win. ALL. THE. TIME. When I first started powerlifting I was desperate for competition. I was looking at all the records and was thirsty to compete with the best. When I would see the records and numbers, I knew I was capable. I knew it existed within me, it was only a matter of stomping my perceived limitations into the ground. Easy to type. Really, really, really hard to do.

Every time I started to doubt myself, every time some toxic thoughts entered my brain, I would repeat to myself "my name is Jennifer Millican and I am a champion". It's sounds silly, maybe even crazy, but you know what? I am officially a champion.

Fast forward to a few weeks out, not exactly sure of the timing. I'm again writing down attempts and struggling.....again. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of the pressure, I'm sick of the questioning. I'm sick of it all. I have a good outline of what I'm capable of and what I need. I'm clear about the goals. I surrender. I decide I'm gonna hand over my attempt calls to someone that isn't me. I decided I didn't care about pr's. And I didn't. I really didn't. I officially didn't give one single shit about hitting a pr.

This is where it becomes important that your priorities are clear. It was clear to me that I wanted to win. Nationals was only a step in the right direction. I plan to win IPF Worlds. That is the ultimate goal. I will stand on the podium with an American Flag behind me. Count on it. So the pr's mattered even less.

Suddenly, it became easy. I needed a person with experience, I needed someone who knew what to look at, what to keep up with, what to say, who understood the timing of freakin meet day, and who understood winning. I tell Wade he's in charge. I tell him to make the calls. I sent him the goals, he could handle the rest. Best decision ever. And here's why.

Meet day. Things are weird because I'm lifting at night. So I wake up and then still have a long time before actually lifting. I'm already at weight, so no stress there, it's just a matter of maintaining. I get instructions from Aaron Thomas about what to eat......the instructions are delicious and I'm off to find a pastry. I eat and drink throughout the day and continue to weigh myself, all good. I took a nap, took a bath, did some stretching, watched a movie, holy shit, this is taking forever. I'm trying really hard to manage my energy. Finally it's time to start getting ready to head to the venue.

I get to the venue around 2pm. My friend is lifting then, so I wanted to watch her of course. She does well, seems calm, judging seems fair. My family starts to arrive. The other primetime lifters start to arrive. The nerves start to arrive. Get changed, and now it's time to weigh in. Weigh in. Weigh lighter than I expected. Good for wilks.

In the warm up room. It's 5:30. Lifting at 6:30. Why is no one warming up? Is there a secret warm up
room I don't know about? Whatever, I'm warming up. Second to last warm up. Wade says, "you're 12 out". Ha! Oh well, hit the warm up a couple more times. Feeling good. I took a bajillion ibprophen so no stupid shoulder pain or elbow pain or hip pain. No pain. Sweet.

SO. NERVOUS.

My nerves had decided that I was likely going to bomb out and that everything was too heavy and that I didn't know what the fuck I was doing here. "My name is Jennifer Millican and I am a champion". My nerves had decided that this wasn't worth it. The pressure was too much, it costs too much money and it was all stupid, all of it. Why am I here? "My name is Jennifer Millican and I am a champion".

The bar is loaded. Struggling with my stupid wrist wraps. Jeez. I'm gonna get timed out because of wrist wraps. Stare down the bar. "My name is Jennifer Millican and I am a champion"

Walk up to the bar. Get under it, walk it out. Holy shit. I am shaking all over. This bar is going to shake right off my back. "My name is Jennifer Millican and I am a champion"

347.5lbs. Good lift. 3 white lights.

GAME ON mother fuckers. GAME. ON.

I walk off the platform and my nerves were way worse than I expected. And I'm a nervous person. I say to Wade, "be conservative". He says something in kilos, which I can't remember how much anything is; my brain wouldn't work. I said, "just make the call" and walk away. Insert, "thank goodness I'm not making the calls".

Second attempt, 363 I think? I don't even know. I shifted a bit coming out of the hole, but good lift.

I say to my husband in the back behind the platform. This is fun. And it was, it was fun. I remembered why I love competing. I loved the atmosphere, I loved being around the best of the best.

Wade tells me he went conservative for the third attempt. I knew why. I was in agreement. Third attempt, 167.5 kilos, 369lbs. Good lift.

Exhale. Now all I had to do was win.

Bench has been feeling like crap. I think I mentally block myself from taking a bench all the way through a training cycle but whatever. I'm coasting at this point. I low balled my opening bench attempt by quite a bit (or so I thought), so I was relaxed.

First attempt. 2 red lights. FUCK.

Wade looks at me and is surprised. He says he's going up 2.5 kilos and just to fix it. I was rattled but only slightly. I knew I could fix it. Time only moves in one direction.

I look at Michael before going into my second attempt bench and say "Jennifer Millican 8 for 9" and he repeated it back to me. Are you noticing a pattern? Self talk is muy importante.

2nd attempt good. That's right.

3rd attempt, not exactly where I thought I would be but I didn't care. I just needed to get it. I was again super nervous. I needed something. I walk out on the platform and call for the crowd to give me some noise. EXTREMELY uncharacteristic, but I needed something. I have learned the power in asking for what you need. I asked and they delivered. A bit of a grind, but good lift. 95 kilos. Stood up and jumped in my husband's arms and he said "Jennifer Millican, 8 for 9".

Deadlifts. Coasting. At this point, it's all over but the crying.

Warm ups for deadlifts felt great. I'm a self admitted deadlift hater. But the tides are changing. I'm starting to like it. Starting to count on it. Aaron Thomas tells me he's going to increase my volume on deads and bring back block pulls (aka death pulls) so the romance is sure to die. Nonetheless, 3 easy pulls, definitely more in the tank. Ended with 402. Jennifer Millican, 8 for 9.

I once listened to tail end of a motivational type talk at an event that I was actually doing a team building exercise for. I can't remember the name of the guy doing the talk but he was a retired quarterback and he's the guy that changed my attempt selection strategy. In the huddle he would tell his guys not to think about end zone, but to only think about this play. How are we going to win this play? Nothing else matters but winning this play, right here, right now. He told his players it was about stacking up the plays. It was about winning every play. If you can stack up enough wins, before you know it, you're standing in the end zone.

I did end up winning best lifter. I beat two legendary women. My strategy this meet was the same as my last meet, because there is no magic fairy dust on the platform after all. That strategy is to stack up as many attempts as possible.

"Every attempt I tell myself, all I have to do is win this one attempt, and before I knew it, I was standing on top of the podium."  

Emotions and feelings will use you. Don't let them. It is difficult, because your feelings are real and they are serious, but they will use you up! They will use you all the way to failure and some deep dark places. When you treat life like one big math problem instead of feelings and things that are not calculable, your perceived limitations become bullshit.

Thank you a million times to Aaron Thomas for programming and teaching me a bit about training and math problems and perceived limitations. Wade Johnson for teaching me to stuff my feelings in the ground and just execute the lift.

My husband, for knowing what to say and do and not getting mad at me when I do let my feelings get the best of me. But not for eating all my food, particularly chips.

All my gasoline.

My name is Jennifer Millican and I am a champion.

Officially.

Be The Gasoline

My name is Jennifer Millican and I am a champion.

MY NAME IS JENNIFER MILLICAN AND I AM A CHAMPION.

These words play over and over in my head.

The truth is though, I was born a champion. I was meant to be one, built to be one, destined to be a champion.

There are times in life when you'll come up with an idea, a goal, a change, a challenge. When you tell people about this, what happens? I don't know what happened in your life, but in mine, I was met with SUPPORT, I was met with a big fat "HELL YEAH", a high five, a "let's get after it". You see, growing up, my family showed up. They were at every practice, every game, every play, every everything. It didn't matter what is was, my family, (read: my parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins), literally showed up to everything from final games to being in a local parade in a high school sorority. I've taken this for granted for most of my life.

The older I got, the more I realized that this was often not the case. The more my circle expanded the more I realized that it's not so often that you are met with a "hell yeah". I began to realize that more often than not you are met with a problem for every solution. You are met with questioning, naysayers, haterzzzzzzzz if you will.

The first time this phenomenon became apparent to me was when I decided I wanted to have a child birth without pain relievers. HOLY SHIT. People really don't want you to do that. And they will tell you. They will tell you that you will literally die. It is absolutely nuts to me how much people care about other people's level of pain during child birth. BUT WHY? I'm still not sure. Lucky for me though, I was born a champion. I was also born with a mother who showed up. My Mother never questioned me. She supported me. She stoked my fire. When everyone I talked to had some war story to tell me, my mother brought me back. I could call my mother and dump all my stresses and doubts on her and she would reassure me. She would remind of all the reasons I wanted to go this route. She would flood me with support even when I began to question my own choices. She was the gasoline.

After my first child (born in a hospital without pain meds), I had my second at home (gasp). The second time around though I talked a lot less about my "birth plan", which made things infinitely easier. Nonetheless, still met with some opposition. But it mattered slightly less this time. I had people. I had gasoline.

One of those people is my husband. My freakin husband, the biggest can of gasoline I've met. I met this guy nearly 10 years ago. In those 10 years I have come up with some crazy ideas. He's yet to shoot down a single one. When I come up something, he jumps right in. Have we failed? Absolutely. Does it matter? No.

Because this blog is for the most part powerlifting related, I'll use that as the main example, but believe me, you can paste this into every life situation you run into. I have had some success in this sport. What you see is the success, the fire. What you don't see is the day to day.

I get up four days a week in the wee hours of the morning and train. I get up, get a cup of coffee, make a meal, get my equipment and supplements together and head out the door. I drive about 20 minutes and pull into a gravel driveway. I walk into a well equipped gym and people are already there warming up, some even nearing the end of their session.

I start warming up, some chatter with other lifters about what's on the agenda for the day then get to it. Weights are loaded and unloaded, cues, critiques on form, spotting, wrapping knees, discussion on what to do next, etc, etc. That's it. But why?

Because somewhere in my mind a while ago, I believed I could be great at this. Something inside told me that I have it in me to be the best. I have it in me to top the charts. I have it in me to be a champion. That's not enough though. At some point, you will feel like you suck and you will question why you're doing what you're doing, your fire will begin to die. Enter: Gasoline

When I wake up in the morning, my coffee is already made, waiting for me. It's waiting because my husband makes it and sets the timer for me every night. Gasoline.

When I make a meal, it's already prepared and decided on because someone writes my nutrition. It's already prepared because often times my husband helps me prepare all my food one day a week. Gasoline.

When I walk out the door I leave my two babies behind to get fed, clothed and transported to school by my husband. Gasoline.

When I walk in the gym and my team helps load my weight, they watch my form, remind who I am and how I lift. When they tell me when I'm getting in my own way. The cues, the music, the chalk, the equipment, the videos, the slaps, the confidence, the belief. Gasoline.

When I leave the gym and come home and tell my husband what when on and he listens. Gasoline.

When I text and message coaches and friends about my lifting and how to make it better. Gasoline.

When I travel for meets and need help with my children and my Mom, Grandma, Sister, Aunts, In-laws step in and pick up and drop off from school, make lunches, send me pictures of them, care for them and love them as I do. Gasoline.

When people comment, like, share, send me a message and tell me that something I have done has positively impacted them. Gasoline.

BE THE GASOLINE.
There are times in life when you are the fire and there are times when you need to tend the fire. Never underestimate the power of either of these roles.

My son, who is five, has a business. It's simple. It's in our laundry room and his office is in the dryer. His only goal is to get money. He has an employee, his older sister. It's hilarious and easy to laugh off. But I don't! I take that shit seriously, because I want to be his gasoline. I don't ever want to put out his fire with my worry, lack of confidence, or simply because it's not what I expected. I want to champion his efforts. I want him to come to me for belief, for support, for gasoline.

If you have enough gasoline, your fire gets big, and then it spreads, and that's what we're after!

Don't ever put out someone's fire. EVER. Even if you don't necessarily believe it's going to work. Even if they fail, they still made progress. They will remember too. They will remember if you helped keep the fire alive or if you smothered it. The goal should never be to just NOT fail or to only to be wildly successful. The goal is get a little bit better, the goal is to expand the comfort zone, the goal is growth.

The tendency to question, to naysay, to hate is an epidemic. I challenge you to become aware of yourself when talking with friends or family and consciously be the gasoline. Sometimes it's just a little poke, a little stoke, one tiny spark that a fire needs and suddenly it's ablaze.

cham·pi·onˈCHampēən/
noun1.
a person who has defeated or surpassed all rivals in a competition, especially in sports.
"a champion hurdler"

synonyms:

winner, titleholder, defending champion, gold medalist, titlist, record holder; More

2.
a person who fights or argues for a cause or on behalf of someone else.
"a champion of women's rights"

synonyms:

advocate, proponent, promoter, supporter, defender, upholder, backer, exponent;

My name is Jennifer Millican and I am champion.

I was born that way though. I was born into a circle of champions, I was built to be one, destined to be one because I don't know any other way.

Gasoline

Systems vs Goals and Magic Skin Bags; A Book Review(ish)

I read a book! Like a real one, with pages and shit. I really like reading books, but with the almighty social media and internet in general I have slacked the last few years in reading actual books. So I picked one up recently and remembered how much better actual books are than reading on my phone or computer or whatever. Now I'm (kinda) gonna review the book, but mostly discuss my big takeaways and maybe some of it will resonate with you as well.

The book I read is titled "How to Fail at Almost Everything and Still Win Big" by Scott Adams. Scott Adams is most widely know as the creator and author of the comic strip Dilbert. The book is a very good, easy read and has some pretty decent information in it regarding life and how to get the most out of it. Now I will say, if you have read any other books along these same lines, not much of the information is going to be blowing you out of the water. Nonetheless, I would most definitely recommend it to anyone that hasn't read a book of this genre or any young person in college or even high school.

The two biggest concepts that hit hard for me were systems rather than goals and moist robots rather than magic skin bags (I'll explain, don't worry). So let's get right to it!

First, systems vs. goals. This little lesson has been popping up in my life the last couple of years and seems to be a recurring theme. Which is great, because I'm really starting to get it! I've made a couple of posts that touch on this subject as it applies to powerlifting but after reading this book I'm realizing that this can be applied to every aspect of life. The first layer in my discovery of this little lesson was after reading an article by Dr. Mike Israetel (fan girl much?) and competing with a dead arm. All this lead up to (as of right now) the most successful meet of my career.

Goals. Goals are great. I have been the victim of goal setting my entire life. I'll be honest, I'm pretty good at reaching them. Take college for example. I went to college with the goal of getting a degree. That was pretty much it. I got the degree, yes, but that's really all I got. Yeah sure, it was a great 5 years, took some pretty cool classes, met some cool people, but not much else to show for it. I had a goal of running a half marathon. Did it. Did I become a great runner? Nope (thanks be to God). I could go on like this for miles of mediocre accomplishments. The point is that goal setting indicates a beginning and an end. You see, for me, the middle didn't matter much. It was only a matter of checking it off my list and moving on. As Scott Adams says:

 "to put it bluntly, goals are for losers." 

And it's so freakin true! Ugh. I'm so mad. I am like so good at cramming everything in at the last minute and reaching the "goal" by sheer will and determination. Now, we can get all into semantics if you want......but nevermind, because I don't want. The point is, using systems rather than goals indicates an ongoing process. It doesn't end. Instead of thinking, "I want to lose 10 pounds", think "I want to be healthy and happy with my physical appearance". Then you must have a system of doing that. If all you want is to lose 10 pounds, let's say you achieve it, then what? Then it's over and you'll go through all those highs of reaching the goal and then those wear off and then it's like the day after Christmas. Sad. No more anticipation. No more opening those little doors filled with chocolate. No more random parties with friends. No more twinkle lights in your house or houses that line the street. No more goodwill. Just pack it all up and put it away in the attic until next year. BUT, if you can shift your thinking towards systems rather than goals, then the fulfillment that you get out of working towards something can never end. When you're working to lose that 10lbs, you're all gung ho prepping your meals, doing your cardio, and it feels phenomenal to be doing it because you know you're getting somewhere. But once you reach the goal, the process or system of getting there seems to lose it's appeal. This is the part that separates losers from winners. Success from failure. Stop thinking of the 10 pounds, think, you're going to work a system, forever. Will it be so fulfilling day after day? Nope. But what do we know about feelings?

At one point, in powerlifting, all I wanted was a number one next to my name. I've done that. But somewhere in there, I fell in love with the process. I've since adjusted my goals in powerlifting to simply becoming one of the greatest of all time. Simple right? It is actually simple. It's simple because I will work a system. My system is consistently training, practicing good technique ALL THE TIME, and passing on every ounce of knowledge, help and inspiration that I have to give. Systems will reach a far greater audience than any number on the bar or next to my name. I'm willing to bet, it will be much more fulfilling than just reaching number one.
And because I'm such a fan girl, and because this was so pertinent and articulated so well, a quote that really brings it home by Dr. Mike Israetel:

"The two most important ingredients for long term success in lifting:

- Good technique
- Consistency

You'll notice neither of those rewards the ego directly.

Ego rewards ARE important for lifting. But if you let them come from the RESULTS rather than letting them disrupt the process by tempting you into poor technique and the instant gratification of impulsive PR attempts, you get the best outcomes."

Next: moist robots vs. magic skin bags. Now, you may recall, there is no magic fairy dust on the platform or anywhere else in life. Repeat after me, EVERYTHING is an acquirable skill. To what level you will reach it is variable. I am short. I have tan skin. I have brown eyes. I am female. I am in every sense ambiguously ethnic. I have a chronic case of rbf (resting bitch face). I have grown up with people constantly telling me to "smile", which still to this day makes me want to punch people in the face. Almost every person I meet at some point past a few months of knowing me confesses the same confession, "when I first met you, I thought you were a total bitch." That's pretty blatantly judgmental, but whatevs. I am introverted. I am slow to warm. I am not much for small talk. These things I know about myself. 

At the ripe age of 15 I got a job at a pizza place. I was the cashier. I was awesome at it. I was efficient. I moved the line quickly and without mistakes. My drawer was always spot on. Everyone in my line got exactly what they wanted. The drawback was that everyone thought I was mad all the time. I just couldn't understand. Quite honestly, if my manager told me to seem happy one more time I was going to throw the register out the window. I just didn't get it. 

Customer service is a skill. It is an acquirable skill. Some people (most) are way better at it than me, naturally. Some people are born likable (all of my in laws) and for some people, it just takes a little time (me). After years of being in the hospitality industry, I've learned that smiling matters (still irks me), but it can also put some money in your pocket. One day, I was like it, fuck it, I'm gonna smile while being incredibly efficient and see what happens. Even though I felt like a total douche bag and unnatural as all get out, I made a conscious effort to smile at people. The weirdest thing happened. People began to appreciate my efficiency. People appreciated it by leaving me bigger tips. From this point forward I began to refine my customer service skills a little at a time. I am supremely confident in these skills present day and I sometimes still feel like that 15 year old kid behind the register. It almost feels like I am tricking people because I am not naturally the person I portray. 

I feel uncomfortable smiling for no reason. I feel uncomfortable making small talk about nothing. The point is, I do it anyway. It is absolutely genuine despite the fact that I feel uncomfortable doing it. I have also learned that people don't care for you if you aren't being genuine. When I was 15 standing behind that register I felt hopeless. I thought it didn't matter how good at my job I was, no one would take noticed because I wasn't a naturally smiley or talkative person. Naturally smiley and talkative people were born that way, they were magic skin bags full of smiling and rainbows and talking and butterflies. I know now that is not true. Literally everything is an acquirable skill. Some people WILL BE genetically better at it than others, does that mean that you can't fulfill your genetic potentiatal? Nope. Does it mean that you can limit your bag of skills by believing that something is "just not for you"? Yep. Will you feel uncomfortable in the process? Yep. Will you be a more confident person on the other side? Yeah buddy. 

The point is, stop thinking that some people are just naturally born to do what they're doing and start thinking of everything as an acquirable skill. 

Stop thinking of yourself as a magic skin bag following a pre-determined destiny and start thinking of yourself as a moist robot who's output is only as good as the input. 

This will essentially eliminate all fear in your life. And fear is the mind killer.   

So go and be systematic and fearless. 

Bob, Pat Summit and the power of a great coach

I have written this is 2 parts. The first was written on the day Coach Summit passed. What an incredible person, let alone great coach. To do what she did, to accomplish all that she did is a testament to her. She leaves behind a well blazed trail for all that follow. For those that are fans of Coach Summit, I hope you will see this as a tribute. I am finishing this today. A full week has passed since Bob's passing and I won't go into detail but, it has been hard and for me personally, a difficult time. This wasn't going to be my farewell to Bob but, I'm hoping again, that those that knew him and read this, will understand that it is a tribute and maybe see what he meant to me and to so many others. 

     

You don’t know who Bob is. Well, some of you will. Bob Shaefer was my mentor primarily in powerlifting. I’m not sure he’d say he ever coached me but, he did in many ways beyond the gym. I talked to Bob on Facebook messenger briefly, Thursday, June 23. I didn’t hear back from him so, I figured I’d check in over the weekend and get caught up. I had sent a decline press video and never heard back but, Bobby can get busy with many folks and looking at cool and sweet animal videos so, I didn’t press. Saturday morning, since I was home, meant that it was time to get down in the gym. Missy was going to train and I had several coming and knew it would be a busy morning. We also had house guests so, as per normal, it was going to be a busy day. June 25^th is my Dad’s birthday whom passed a few years back. I always try to post something on Father’s day and his birthday just to honor him and remember him. That morning, about 5:30 am, I got up, got to my computer getting dressed and prepping for the day and thought, I’ll scan Facebook and write something about my Dad. I had only scrolled a few posts when I saw a post by one of Bob’s former Underground members that Bob had passed apparently the night before. I was completely stunned and immediately saddened. Now, this is not a blog about Bob. I’m not sure that’s how I would want to honor him. I will get back to that later.

Today, we have all heard the news of Pat Summit and her passing. I can think of no coach that has a more profound influence on athletes, women and school whose outreach was global. Not only was she a great coach, to me, she was even a greater ambassador and mentor to her school, her sport, her athletes and all that she came in contact with. It’s people like this that are heroes to me.  I am amazed how both these people had such a dramatic impact on so many people and that is was so far reaching. To someone that so many would know worldwide like Coach Summit to someone that only a small circle of folks would know like Bobby. But, this isn’t what I want to get down to today either. That is left up to writers that are far beyond anything I can create and do it well enough to do it for a living and for you to watch on TV.

There is something that both of these people/coaches had in common. They believed. Now, allow me to explain, as best I can, how profound that is. We are all always told to believe in ourselves. We’ve heard it from our parents, teachers and such but, when someone tells you that they believe in you, the effect is dramatic. This is one of the themes that I saw with both these coaches. They believed, not only in what they were doing but, they believed in those that were around them. They taught their athletes to believe in them by the example of how they believed in the athlete. The power of this is immeasurable. When you see the resolve in a coach’s eye that you trust, that you love, and whom you so much believe in and you hear them tell you that they believe in you, that they know you can…it is empowering. I have seen over and over where this was what put an athlete where they needed to be to finally believe in themselves as much as the coach did. When this happens, it’s magical. That’s what these two coaches, and many like them, embody and teach and live day to day and inspires me to emulate and work towards the same.

So, I am not sure what that means really. I hope that you’ll read about Coach Summit, maybe learn about Bob and the coaches you enjoy watching and how inspire you. That finding belief is really a big deal and the catalyst to many good things. The empowerment of belief can make you unstoppable.

And now, how does this relate to my title? I don’t know, it doesn’t really. Here is what I want to say about Bob. First, you are going to hear many stories and tributes about Coach Pat Summit and they are well deserved. She is someone I greatly admired. Not because she was a woman that did it in a man’s world because, she is one of the most prolific coach’s and human beings I’ve ever witnessed. It wasn’t about her gender. Yes, of course, she was a pioneer and ambassador for women’s basketball and the Lady Vols but, it goes well beyond that. But she was a coach’s coach. She is one of the greats in a world of great coaches. To me, Bob was much the same. He was quiet. He had a tight circle but he loved his lifters intensely. He believed in you when you saw only reason to doubt and he taught, he pushed and was impatient when he had expectations of you. See, he wanted you to be held to a higher standard so that you’d create the highest standard for yourself and not be a baby about everything. That you would then make the standard the same for all in your charge. That when doubt crept in, you’d look at your body of work and stand tall on that. Bob believed in me. He insisted that I write. He insisted I compete and constantly stayed on me about resting more and that I gave too much of myself but would then applaud it when he knew it was the right thing to do and the way I did things. He told me once, “you will never reach your potential because you want to give to others”.  He understood this and my want for it. He supported it but wanted me to have no regrets and, I don’t. Bob and I spent countless hours shopping for the right gear for me and my gym, combing over notes for training and adapting his methods to mine to make them mine. Here are a few things he said that continue to have an effect on me to this day.

Make my training your own.

Bob spent countless hours developing his system. Then he spent more hours with me as we tweaked and adjusted it to the system I now use today. Even things he didn’t agree with, he’d work on them with me.

The real secret is consistent training. He told me this many times. He taught me not to get caught up in numbers all the time. That if I would do the work consistently, the numbers would come. He’d say, “don’t get caught up in linear progress”. He’d explain how things will ebb and flow but over the long run, progress will come, slow and steady and this is how slow and steady wins the race was born. How you hear from me about the Tortoise and the Hare and to be the turtle.

The real secret is when the training becomes intuitive. I’d love to tell everyone that has heard me say that, say that it was me that came up with it but, it was Bob.

The only bad session is a missed session. I have used this over and over and over and over. Bob got it from someone I’m sure but, I got it from him.

He also told me this…and I have shared it with some of you. The day will come when people won’t remember the weights you lifted. They will remember you as coach, Dad, friend, mentor, pal. Were you a good friend? Were you a good coach? Those are the things we will be measured by. I can’t recall exactly how he said it and now, that is how I tell it. Bob was these things to me. He was with me through my biggest moments in the sport to my darkest days personally. Bob also taught me. We’d talk about supplements and training and little things we’d learned along the way. We’d write and read things we both wrote.

Last I’ll share about Bob, he loved animals, especially dogs. I can’t recall how many times he said it but, it was many, “dog’s rule” and he was right.

So, perhaps this is about Bob and I hope you get to know a Bob like I did. I hope that if you know me, if you’ve been coached my me or I’ve worked with you, you’ve heard these things, felt that belief like I did and that I’ve had a small effect positively on you. Knowing Bobby, he’d be pissed that I shared this but, if he haunts me, so be it. Bob was one of the most influential people on my life. He was kind to me when he had nothing to gain by doing so and became a lifelong friend whom I love, cherish and will now, miss. Don’t be sad though, I’m so glad, blessed and grateful to have had someone like him. My hope is that when I’ve learned will continue to be passed on. So, here is to Bob, Coach Summit and all the coaches that work so hard to instill their belief in us in ourselves.

I think one of the Undergrounds own said it best the other day, John Louallen, “Bob is already up in heaven telling God about declines and how it will help his flat bench”. I chuckled when I read that and then in my mind, could totally see it.

It is Saturday, July 2nd now and it's still hard and difficult to put all this in perspective. I miss Bob and I know the family and the Underground folks hurt. I am to likely meet one of Bob's pupils tomorrow to receive his dog. Bob was only ever worried about his dogs. I made a promise to him, should something happen, I would take care of the dogs. In this case it is one. Bob so loved her and I know she had a happy home and right now, I'm sure she is scared and worried and unsettled. My hope is that she will find our family and home and make it her own. I know Bob would be happy knowing that I have her. It is comforting to me to be able to fulfill a promise to someone that I love dearly. So, in closing...love as hard as you can as often as you can. And for all that read this, my hope for you is that all of you have a Bob as part of your life. I was truly blessed with mine.

To Bobby, a shot of Manny, a beer and a slice of pizza with anchovies…

God speed, Bobby. Rest well till we meet again. I love you, man!

Permission to Love

My last post ended with a statement about how love is always the answer. This post is going to explain that. When I say love, I don't mean the feeling of love. The butterflies you get, the sweaty palms, the day dreaming, the sense of urgency to spend every second of your life with someone. That's a feeling. And ALL FEELINGS GO AWAY. Even love feelings. I mean the action of love. I say love, but you could use a number of different terms. Love is what makes sense to me. Love is an action that is taught. Love is the first layer of the brain that is formed. The brain is like an onion. It's built in layers. That's why the whole 'you gotta crawl before walk' is pretty much true. It's also why you can't reason with a threenager. Only people without children believe that you can. Children are incapable of reasoning until a certain age (this all varies of course from child to child so don't hassle me) so until then, your best bet is to hold on and love the shit out of them. When you bring home your teeny tiny bundle of joy, the FEELINGS you have will be varied and overwhelming. Some say they are in love. Which is weird. It's weird because I typically imagine those puppy love type of love feelings when parents say that, but maybe that was before I had my own children???? Annnnnway, there are a lot of feelings. When your tiny baby cries, and you respond, that builds the baby's first layer of the onion. The love layer. The meeting basic needs layer. The I don't give a shit if it's 2 am or if you're at dinner, please feed me layer. Responding to your newborn, teaches the newborn that it's safe and taken care of, it's not starving and not freezing, and if someone or something were to try to eat it or carry it off or maul it, if it cried, you'd come running to help it. So after that layer is built it can move on to learning other things. See how that works?? So it's a really important layer. By responding to your newborn, you give it permission to go ahead and move towards not being a newborn. You give it permission to communicate with you. You'll be there. You're the one to cry for. You're the one that knows what to do. It's a really really important layer. Simple right???

BAHAHAHAHAHHA. BA.HA.HA.HA. Simple, yes. Easy, no. Say it with me, ALL FEELINGS GO AWAY. Even those lovey dovey newborn feelings. Even those feelings you had for your perfect offspring go away. A few weeks in and you'll question your choice to pro-create. When you drag your starving, dirty clothes wearing, sleeping in the recliner, boob hanging out, milk everywhere, smelly self up to respond to your precious bundle of joy........your feelings won't exactly be feelings of love. You will be acting out of love. At least that's what I'm calling it. So now we are on the same page about what I'm calling love.

Actual Threenager

Perspective is a funny thing. It can be both detrimental and somewhat magical. In the one hand, the only perspective that matters is your own. Let's face it, you will never be able to accurately see another person's perspective because your own perspective is blocking your view. When I was in kindergarten I remember how magical I thought my teacher was. She was full of knowledge, incredibly kind and if I turned my head just right I could see her halo. One day I was sitting on the carpet eagerly awaiting the next magical thing on the agenda and she began to tell a story to which I remember none. You see, my listening skills came to a screeching halt when she said something about going to the grocery store. Wait. What? Why in the hell would she go to the grocery store? There is an entire cafeteria down the hall filled with every kind of food a person could want! My mind was exploding trying to imagine her at the grocery store. How did she even get there? Did the school bus take her? Why would she go anywhere else? There were those great mats for sleeping, structured activities, scheduled eating times, and several bathrooms. Why ever leave the kindergarten building? As far as I knew, my teacher was only a teacher. Now, obviously my perception wasn't detrimental and that of a child. I tell you this story to illustrate just how inaccurate perception can represent reality. Reality, can only be seen through the eyes of the observer, which is a moot point, because in life we all have a dog in the fight whether we realize it or not. So, if you understand that perception isn't a true depiction of reality, and you can control your perception (you can) why not just make it a perception with rose colored glasses? THEN, perception becomes magical. I'm not suggesting that you live in la la land and get taken advantage of. I'm suggesting that you control your perspective to a point that it positively impacts your life, your reactions, your mood, your mindset.

Recently, I received an email from a person I was once best friends with. Over time we grew apart and became nothing more than 'friends' on social media. I have had no ill feelings towards this person. I've had no feelings about this person in general. As far I as knew, she had no feelings about me either. Some things 'happened' on social media and I decided to block her because I will not have rude, unnecessary comments on my page. Let me tell you, if you want to hear from someone, block them. The email included all sorts of terrible things, but below is the one line that stuck:

 Wrong. YOUR perception is YOUR reality. Now, obviously this is the detrimental side of perception. So personally, I'm strapping on my rose colored, love filled glasses and will keep marching forward. I give you permission to do the same. When you face struggle, negativity, adversity, and you overcome, you give others permission to overcome. When you slack off, make negative statements, make fun of people, have a piss poor attitude, act out of anger, you give them permission to do that also. Weak minds will follow suit when those around them are negative. Weak minds will post, share, comment, like and further spread negativity when another person does so. My heart aches for society when there is a tragedy and the best we can do is make memes that are satirical, passive aggressive, sarcastic, egotistical, and just flat out mean spirited. It seems as though we've forgotten that actual people exist. Struggle is a gift. It's a gift because you have the strength to overcome it. When I was young(er), I didn't see it this way. I saw it as a burden. An excuse to crumble and make bad choices. An excuse to take the easy way out. Luckily, I married someone that has guided me toward realizing the strength that I was blind to for so long. I noticed something along the way; when I held myself to a higher standard, those around me did the same. When I decided to believe in ME, I noticed that others started believing in themselves too. If you have been given the gift of struggle, and we all have, you have a responsibility. You have a responsibility to strap on your rose colored glasses, and get to work. You have a responsibility to overcome with love. When your baby cries, you have a responsibility to take care of it. You have a responsibility to forgive when someone does you wrong. You have a responsibility to reach out to a friend in need. You have a responsibility to be vulnerable. You have a responsibility to keep moving forward when you're hurt. You have a responsibility to act out of love. You have a responsibility to be great. When you give yourself permission to absolutely crush these responsibilities, you give others the same permission.

This is me giving you permission to act out of love. This is me giving you permission to be great. This is me giving you permission to fulfill your potential. This me giving you permission to hold yourself to high standards and be unapologetic about it.

Now you officially have a responsibility to give permission to others.  

#poweryourown

When the Time Draws Near

When the time draws near

While I’m writing this, understand that the pain I am experiencing is my pain. It hurts and pain is something I live with being a master strength athlete. I have had moments the past 2 days that got to the point that I had to have help getting shorts on so I could go downstairs in the gym. Yeah, pretty defeating and scary to be sure.  It in no way compares to what the kids of Relentless experience on a daily basis. It doesn’t compare to what my Dad went through having brain surgery two months before his passing that never allowed him to once again be in his home and dying without the dignity he deserved. It also doesn’t compare to the cancer, regardless of how it got there, that my Mother passed with only 16 months later.  There are so many out there that know real pain. While this hurts, it still, doesn’t compare.  I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that it scares me. That it seems set backs come quicker and more frequent but, at the end of the day, while very painful, it simply doesn’t compare.

All this said, I know the time draws near where I won’t be Big Wade anymore. That lifting “big” weights are behind me and trust me when I say, I know the feeling of the fall off of strength. Some of it was self-imposed with weight loss and simple life changes and priorities. It is a frustrating process even if you can intellectually see that hey, you are getting “older”. I have embraced more and more my place in strength sports from being more a coach than competitor but, I still want to be big and strong. However, my body is saying my time is near.

So what does that mean? I can’t lift? I am injured 2.5 weeks out of a meet that means so much to so many that I may not be able to lift? It means, to me, I still have to believe. I have to push and this is part of the reason I push myself and the ones in my charge so hard. Lifting, strength and competing, it is something we do, it is not, however, who we are.  I am a Dad to a wonderful son that no matter what is a light and the best thing I ever was part of creating and doing. I am a partner/spouse to someone that gets me and loves me and believes in me and we share a great life. I am a coach to some of the greatest lifters and athletes you can imagine and I am a friend and mentor to many that have given me the privilege to do so.  I am truly blessed. What all this means is, I am down, I feel a little defeated, I am scared and looking in the face of reality. I know that I’ll continue to lose strength, size and simply not be what I once was. However shallow that may be, it is real nonetheless to me but, I know that I can’t stop. I have to try and more, do. A standard was set for me by those that came before me and then the ones in my charge and the path I created is my responsibility to tend. For my parents memory, for pals like Nick “Bully” Busick and many others and for the kids of Relentless, I have to push on. Maybe I have to token everything. Maybe I’ll hurt worse. Maybe something breaks but, if I go down, I go down pushing. I am much more about burning out then fading away. I will use my pain and the pain of others, to push and do my best. When you pray, pray for those mentioned. Pray for them a relief in pain, healing and peace. As for me, I just need the chance to continue to push.

In closing, I know that the road behind me is more than what is in front of me and that’s ok. A great pal of mine always ends his postings with Always Believe, and Frank, I’m with you.  I have the word believe everywhere in the gym and in my house and both Missy and I have it tattooed on our bodies. So, I will push and I will believe that in doing so, it serves a purpose. I got treatment from a teamogre athlete Autumn and will see her again this evening, so for that, I think you. Thanks for the support of Missy and my son Wes who ran the gym last night and Missy again that had to help me put my shorts on this morning. For Shorty giving me a brief peptalk and Annie for encouraging me not to worry and stay moving. It’s these reasons and more why I continue to push, to work and to believe.  I am hurt, really hurt but, I have to go and show and do my very best. It’s the example we have to set for those that are upcoming, the ones that created our pathway and the ones that truly know pain so, today, I will do my best to live Relentless and believe.

I think today, I’ll eat pizza…

Lift heavy, train smart & eat more pizza