USAWA

by Thom Van Vleck

It was 40 years ago in May that I started my weightlifting journey.  I had messed around with the weights for a couple of years.  I would workout but a month or two later I would quit.  I made myself a promise on my 15th Birthday I would start training and give it my all.  I’ve been lifting ever since.

I remember maxing out on some lifts to get a base line.  I deadlifted 225 pounds, I could barely squat my own bodyweight (due to having broken both legs and my hip), I benched 105, and power cleaned 125.  I weighed in at a porky 198lbs.  As a matter of fact I wore a 38 waist then and I now weigh 275 and wear 38’s.  I was a fatty!

My birthday was the first day of school being out.  I worked out in the old Jackson Weightlifting Club which was in a barn with a metal roof.  More often alone than with someone. There was no air conditioning.  It was hot!  I would workout about 2 hours every single day all summer.  Not surprisingly I lost over 30lbs in three months plus I think I converted another 10lbs to muscle.  On top of that I grew about 4 inches.  My transformation was so great that when I went back to school that fall a classmate didn’t recognize me.

My lifts didn’t sky rocket up.  I was probably over training badly.  I was also constantly maxing out and not sticking to a routine.  But I was dedicated and I learned a lot and I got well conditioned.

I would spend my time reading stacks of weightlifting magazines owned by my Uncles and my grandfather that were laying around the gym. My routines were often gleaned from these pages.

My memories of those days working out in that unairconditioned, metal roof building in the sweltering Missouri heat are burned into my mind.  I felt like a spartan!  I had friends come by to workout and they would last a day, maybe two.  Then they would quit.  It was too hot and too hard for them.

My Uncle Wayne would come by and workout three days a week.  We would visit, talk about training, and I would watch him put up some fantastic weights and dream of when I would be that strong.  He regularly pressed 300 pounds or more.  I remember him doing a seated press with 300lbs for 8 sets of 3 reps.  I also remember him hang cleaning 300 for 8 sets of 3 reps.  It was inspirational.

My grandfather would also come out a couple days a week and work out.  I marveled at his dedication even though he was in his late 60s.  At my age at the time that was amazing.  He did a lot of old school strongman lifts.  He would do lifts like the shoulder drop and Zercher squat.  I learned a lot from him.

We would open the big sliding doors to the barn to let as much air in as possible.  I can recall opening those doors and it being like walking into an oven.  I would often walk outside between sets hoping to catch a breeze.

It was at this time I fell in love with weightlifting.  It became my sport.  While I’ve had some success in competition the greatest rewards have been in mind, body, and spirit.

Do you remember when you fell in love with lifting weights?