The Snatch Horse

If you've been reading for a while, you might have picked up on the fact that I am not very coordinated. I'm more coordinated than I used to be, thanks to CrossFit, but no one would ever call me "graceful". I fall down a lot, trip over stuff, hit my head and fall off things. Which is all normally kind of funny, and good fodder for the blog. But last week while Olympic lifting, I actually had a pretty serious accident.

On Monday after the Albany Qualifiers, our group decided to hit the gym for some 603/MaD cross-affiliate training. Matt was going to teach my sister Kelly to deadlift, and Dallas and I planned to work the snatch under Donna's watchful eye. It didn't take long for me to warm up and hit the platform... where (unbeknownst to me) a series of unrelated events was about to culminate into what shall henceforth be known as The Perfect Snatch Storm.

Factor One: The Bar. I'm used to warming up with my women's bar, and since I don't have training plates, my snatch pulls go from the hang at 33# to full snatches from the ground at 53#. Les than ideal, but it's all I've got. Donna, however, has both a 15# training bar AND nice wooden "plates". So I get in front of the bar, which LOOKS like my bar and is set up off the ground like my bar... but is, in fact, a full 38# lighter than what I would normally pull off the ground.

Factor Two: The Set-Up. I've been playing around with my set-up, and specifically, my head position. I know I look too far down - EC told me that during our training session. So, trying to make a good impression on Donna, I specifically dropped my hips and looked up a bit, which put me in a more advantageous pulling position. And also got me far more vertical than I am used to in my set-up. (The fact that truly WAS a better pulling position is, in fact, irrelevant.)

Factor Three: I'm New At This. This was only my third time snatching, like, ever. My mental rehearsal isn't very good yet - I still have too many cues in my head and not enough muscle/CNS memory to make them all happen. And the one thing EC kept reminding me when I first learned was "slow off the ground". She said that over and over, because that was the common error in all my lifts.

In summary, I set up on a bar that was WAY lighter than I was anticipating, in a better but unfamiliar more vertical set-up position, and failed to consider all the cues that I am supposed to when completing the lift. As a result, I ripped that snatch off the ground like it was on fire. Given the aggressiveness of my pull, the light bar and my vertical set-up, I simply could not pull my head out of the way in time. I smashed myself in the face with that barbell so hard, I almost knocked myself over. It came straight up into my bottom lip, and continued right on up past my top lip into my nose.

I was stunned. And then I was bleeding. And the garage was SILENT, waiting for me to react. I believe I said, "Oh, shit. I just totally nailed myself in the face." I sniffed, ran my tongue over my teeth, put my hand over my mouth, hesitantly touched my nose. "But I think I'm okay." And then I carefully and calmly lay down on the platform. Matt, Donna, Dallas and Kelly all took my cue and went back to their workouts, checking in with me every few minutes.

I lay there for a really long time, bleeding and taking a more thorough inventory of my facial features to make sure everything was still in order. (It was, for the most part.) And when I was done with the bleeding, I stood up, wiped my hands on my pants, nodded at Donna and said, "Let's snatch."

Now, I've had bumps and bruises before, and I've had my share of CrossFit mishaps. But I have never, ever hurt myself like this. I had a massive headache, and a hole in my bottom lip. My top lip was one giant bruise and I'm pretty sure I broke my nose. IT HURT. But more than that, an accident of that nature, of that severity, at this point in my life...

It scared me. A lot. To the point where the thought of snatching again made me want to just sit on the platform and cry. I mean, as a kid, you wreck yourself all the time. It never phased me - I remember flipping off my Big Wheel once, scraping up my face and my elbows and my knees, and impatiently pulling at my horrified mother because I wanted to get back out there and have a re-race down the big hill. As a kid, you're used to banging yourself up. But as an adult, it's totally different. I can't remember the last time I hurt myself this seriously, especially not from an activity I chose to perform. And being hurt like that... I'm not embarrassed to admit that it shook me in a serious fashion.

In those 15 minutes I spent bleeding on the garage floor, I thought about never snatching again. I didn't want to do it. I was scared to pick up that barbell. I thought, who cares if I never snatch again? I can still clean and jerk. I won't miss it. I don't HAVE to do it. But then I thought about what happened out there on the platform. I smashed myself in the face, sure... but I smashed myself in the face while OLYMPIC LIFTING. How many 35 year old women could say that? I know people my age who have thrown their back out picking up their child, or pulled a shoulder muscle while changing the water cooler bottle, or hurt their knees while kneeling in the garden. I hear plenty of those stories from friends, family and co-workers. But lying there on that platform, bleeding and hurt-y, I thought to myself, I am NOT going out like that. If I'm going to incapacitate myself, put myself through that much pain, blacken both my eyes and subject myself to an inordinate number of startled glances and stupid questions... then I WANT TO GO OUT SNATCHING. And I knew right then and there that I had to get back on the Snatch Horse.

So I did. I stood up, shook it off, and picked up the bar. Carefully, tentatively, and probably with not fantastic form. But I did it. Donna coached me through some light snatches, helping me with my pull and my drop under the bar. All in all, we probably did about five sets of doubles and triples before calling it good. And then, because I needed to do something I felt really good about, we picked some heavy stuff up off the ground a bunch of times.

My sister Kelly said it was the most bad-ass thing she's ever seen me do - hurt myself to that degree, and then get right back under that barbell. The thing is, it wasn't bad-ass. I didn't do it to be a tough girl, or to prove a point, or to be able to have a better story to tell. I did it because, for those of us who choose to ride the Snatch Horse, this is just what we do. We hurl our bodies underneath a heavy barbell because it makes us stronger. We drive ourselves past the point of comfort because it makes us tougher. We fall down, and we pick ourselves right back up, because to do anything different would mean defeat. And that would put me one step closer to having to ask for help changing the water cooler bottle at work.

And I am not going out like that.


The author, in her usual state of grace.