A haphazard Google search shares a few statistics I’d like to share with you.
A high level professional bowler made $115,000 in 3 tournaments in 2018. There are more than a few professional video game players who make millions of dollars per year just from tournament play. Professional badminton players can make hundreds of thousands of dollars per year. There are many participants of fairly obscure sports that can make what most of us would consider a shit ton of money each year. An upward trend in popularity of sport correlates with more money being made.
No great mystery there, right?
Why is it we view powerlifting as it stands as a highly paid, highly popular, and highly unified sport? If your answer to this is because you wish to see it as one, fair. I have no direct counter to that argument. One that chooses to think that way is different than the way I think. And guess what? That’s cool.
However, what I do have in response to that argument is slightly related. Powerlifting has had shots at the big leagues and it hasn’t stuck, at least yet. I can imagine there’s probably a lot of people who truly wish to see it blow up and gain popularity for whatever reason. (I don’t mean this passive aggressively – I say this because there’s likely differing reasons people want the sport to increase in popularity).
And you know what? That’s okay. Does the fact that powerlifting isn’t more mainstream make you uninterested in the sport? I’d hope not.
I think it was Katt Williams who said a Chrysler 300 looks like a Bentley until a Bentley pulls up next to it. What’s wrong with just owning our Chrysler 300, calling it a Chrysler 300, and being content with a nice enough vehicle that gets the job done?
This is my argument here. Powerlifting means a whole hell of a lot to many of us. However, because it means something personally to me, or to you, or to a whole lot of people doesn’t mean we should aim to subject that meaning onto those who may not feel the same. This doesn’t need be done, and it’s not likely that someone else is going to see it the way you do. Hopefully, the meaning that you take from powerlifting is highly individual and formed by your own experiences and lessons you’ve learned along your journey.
Not everything in powerlifting needs to be a movement. We exist in a world where we can share our entire lives with the public. Every single training session, every single meal, every single thought, there’s absolutely no limit. Does that mean you should do that? That’s your choice. However, I don’t think every single thing you like or are passionate about needs it’s own hashtag, call to arms, and then movement. You can do that if you please, just don’t expect it to mean to others what it does to you. You shouldn’t expect others to want to validate your experience.
Powerlifting is a niche sport. Most people do not care to participate in it, and for good reason. It’s extreme. It isn’t running, which is good for you. I’m sure the act of running a marathon isn’t the best thing for you body. However, training to run a marathon will benefit your cardiovascular system and keep you around to see the grandkids for a longer period of time. Powerlifting isn’t a general physical activity that will improve your health or that your doctor probably endorses. Walking and running are what our bodies are designed to do, even though they can cause problems. Our bodies were not designed to max out on squats. Powerlifting will not improve your health. There are of course ways to do powerlifting more healthily, but it probably isn’t going to lead to you living longer. You might make the argument that lifting weights and exercising can improve one’s health, but that isn’t powerlifting.
When I started powerlifting, it consisted largely of misfit types. Absolute and total characters. The first guy I ever met I’d say was a, “powerlifter” used to lick the bar before each heavy squat attempt after he covered only his eyebrows in chalk. People who were either a little or a lot “off” in some way were very much dominant. That was cool, but that isn’t how the majority of powerlifters are now. That’s also cool.
I’m close with a few individuals who are have given their lives to the sport, and that have been doing so for a long time. I’m not talking about being hard at work posting on their social media pages or commenting on popular posts. I’m not talking about being highly motivated or excited all of the time. Powerlifting has formed a piece of who they are.
I mean that they’ve lived powerlifting for multiple decades. Everything that they have put into their bodies for years and years has been with powerlifting in mind. Financially, they’ve put powerlifting before bills or necessities when they had to. They’ve had dozens of surgeries. They’re in constant pain from 20 or 30 years of powerlifting training. They’ve taken a lot of years off their lives for powerlifting and they’re aware of that. They still choose to do it at 40, 50, and 60 years old.
They belong in powerlifting because they’ve chosen it, and you belong in powerlifting if you’ve chosen it. Even if you are in year one, and you might not plan on being around in a couple of years. None of these veterans need to explain it to anyone who doesn’t get it, because they know it won’t mean the same thing to anyone else. Sure, they might enjoy talking about their passion when asked about it. They’re even more excited when they find a younger lifter who has found something similar to what they found with powerlifting. A newer lifter might feel the need to project because they’re excited or unsure and want the validation. If you do project, you’re going to be validated best by someone who’s already chosen powerlifting.
What is all of this to say? “Shit needs to be less like it is now, and more like it used to be, right, Lones?” I’m not saying that here. I won’t sit here and kid you, saying that I’m personally and heavily invested in exposure or further growth of the sport. Some of the things that come with that make me cringe and I’m content with the personal meaning powerlifting has to me. However, things are how they are right now and I accept that. Hell, at least I’m writing a blog post about it.
What powerlifting means to you is just that – and it doesn’t need to be anything more than that. If it does need to be more than that to you, I’d suggest maybe doing some introspection and figuring out why that is.
Now that I’ve had some time to process in the 20 minutes or so I’ve spent writing this – the moral of the story here is driven by a feeling I recently had. I’ve had the same feeling several times this past year. It’s a feeling of confusion mixed with humor. It was most recently sparked by a video of a squat deemed high at Slingshot Record Breakers. You saw it, right? Judges were blind, what the hell was that, that guy should kill himself, the SPF is a joke, and so forth.
I realize I’m exposed to powerlifting more than some are, but you don’t need to be to realize the level of segmentation that exists. In the last year, I’ve seen many things that have struck this chord even further than a routine depth call. Meets without enough spotters. Plates mismatched and very clearly differing in weight for whole meets. Meets that advertised prize money the winners didn’t get paid. Judging and rules within the same federation differ VASTLY from meet to meet. People judging who don’t even lift or have never done a meet. A large meet that ended with news that it was actually unsanctioned. Various forms of cheating from lifters, like briefs under singlets. Wraps I know were way too long. Judges judging training partners. Red lights for reasons I asked about that I couldn’t find in rule books and had never heard of. 1,250 lifters at USAPL Nationals this past year. This doesn’t even scratch the surface of the of venom lifters spit at one another social media.
This just isn’t new. Yet we act like it is every time something like this happens, which is honestly pretty often. Like the standards of powerlifting are so high, powerlifting is so unified, and the integrity of the sport is so highly regarded. It’s a far cry from that right now. It’s segmented and not unified. Bullshit has always existed behind the scenes. You can either work to unify powerlifting and work to fix it by taking action, or you can stick to your meaning and your pack and dismiss the rest.
What’s the purpose in pointing out all of these blatant questionable calls, breaking of rulebooks, and discrepancies? Just to shit on the sport of powerlifting because you’re an old salty lifter, right? That may be closer to the truth than it is further, but no. I’m saying that shit like this has been around for at least as long as I have, and surely even longer. I’m not here to tell you that this is a good thing or a bad thing. At this point, in my opinion, it has become part of the sport. Whether that ever changes or not is yet to be seen. I’m not here to discuss if it’s a good or a bad thing or if it will ever change, because I’m apathetic to that.
Powerlifting is awesome as an individual pursuit. Chasing my last total and maxing out on the squat, bench, and the deadlift is what I love. I’m fortunate enough to be able to help others do the same. That’s enough for me. If you value my opinion whatsoever, I’d urge you to let that be enough for you too. At least for right now.
Have Calloused Hands 