Snatch things I've learned

     I've been CF'ing since Sept 2011.  At some point in the beginning, I was attending a box that didn't emphasize the Oly lifts and I remember after class trying to replicate what I'd seen online.  I was 40, had limited mobility, limited fast twitch speed (coming from endurance running), and no understanding of the lift at all.  The coach said , "Travis, put the bar down before you get hurt."

     Since then I've picked up some things that I think many of you will know, some will not, and of course there are many more things that are important to add to this.

     1. Hand width is determined by where you want the bar to contact your body.

For years I was never really sure about what hand spacing to use.  I primarily would figure out what mobility I had available to overhead squat and then I'd put my hands there for the snatch.  I was not aware that my hand spacing was going to determine my contact point and my contact point needed to be the pocket or power position.

So I went through a long period of inconsistency and periodically smacking my junk with the bar.  Finally I was coached for under a minute and it made sense.

     2. There is always bar contact.  Sometimes its more violent than others.

I learned to love the "sound" of the bar and weights as the contact was made by my hips.  For a while I argued that I was more of a "brusher" than a "bumper" with the bar.  What I came to understand is that if you are truly very very powerful, maybe brushing the hips works for you.  But the rest of us need the mechanical advantage of an aggressive contact with the bar because we aren't super powerful.  AND, you will always come to a point that you are at the limits of your strength and must then rely on technique to go to the next point.

     3. Standing tall with your correct grip will put the bar in the pocket and when you bend the knees and dip to the power position, the bar will still be in the same spot-the pocket.

Donny Shankle taught me this.  There is literally no change in where the bar sits from standing tall to dipping into the power position. Too many people stand tall with the bar and immediately start bending forward, bypassing the 1st position.  When training from the hang you should be able to stand tall, bar is in the right place, stay tall and dip, now you are in the high hang, bar still in the same spot.  If you want to move into a mid hang, then there is a bow that takes place while the dip is maintained.

    4. The 1st pull off the ground is the load, the 2nd pull (passing the knees up to power position) is the explode, the 3rd pull is the whip back under.

The tempo is definitely different for each as is the mindset.  1st pull I think about building tension/energy.  2nd pull I think about violent explosion as I pull the bar into the pocket.  3rd pull I think of the fast change of direction like when a whip cracks loudly in the air.

     5. The snatch takes courage.

This speaks for itself.  Anything that takes courage also takes a serious mental approach EVERY time.  You can't be somewhere else and snatching, you must be present and you must treat the lift seriously.

The blessings of my mothers last days

     I haven't really discussed this much since it occurred.  My mother passed away at the end of April 2015.

     First a backstory: 

     I had a very chaotic childhood, is probably the best way to put it.  My father was never part of the picture after the age of 3.  Prior to that, he wasn't "really" part of the picture because he was incarcerated most of the time.  By the time I was 8 he had died in prison.

     My mom married a guy when I was about 7 or 8 I'd guess.  He was my mom's husband and I literally do not remember him trying to parent me ONCE.  We lived together is how I recall it.  These two had a lifestyle of lots of partying is all I will say.

     After high school graduation, I went in the Air Force and moved to California.  After high school, I saw my mother a few times a year or less.  Once I had children I tried to see her a little more but she never lived too close (AZ or FL).

     My mom and my step dad split shortly after I left and she went on to marry a man that was battling addiction.  That lasted a handful of years and they split and he succumbed to his illness.  She then married another man, with a similar story, battling addiction.  He went on to die from this as well.

     I say all this to say that a parent can love you more than the world itself and still be so terrorized by their own demons and choices that the legacy they leave you is love PLUS a heavy dose of let down and disappointment.

     Now the actual story:

     In September of 2014 my mother was living alone in AZ and was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer with metastases to the bone.  At one point she told me that she felt suicidal due to the pain.  I immediately knew that I needed her to move to CA to live with me so that I could help her battle this disease.

     In October we were told the average was 2 years based on her diagnosis.  She lived in my living room on a pull out sofa for the first month or so.  She was a mess of pain.  It seemed that every weekly appointment brought an increase in her pain medications as she was suffering so much.

     Finally she was on the right mix of medicines, radiation, and chemo that she was no longer in constant pain.  The most amazing part is that this little 105 lb woman had NO sense of grogginess or "high" or anything from the heavy pain meds.  She was able to move into my houses detached casita (spare room thing).

     It seemed like about every month there was a problem that needed to be addressed with the medications getting mixed up or side effects or not eating when supposed to and throwing the meds off.  So I would need to take on the nightly responsibility for a little while of waking, feeding, medicating, etc....to right the ship.

     Every 6 or 12 week check up we had showed the cancer was spreading.  But we kept going with treatment hoping for a change.

     On April 22, she had a chemo treatment and came home unusually tired (they often would energize her and make her feel quite good).  The next day she was very clearly disoriented.  Even she knew it.  We brought her to the hospital and found out Friday night that her cancer had spread to a kidney and that the other one got overwhelmed filtering the chemo and they both shut down.  We were told that the 2 year prognosis had just dropped to basically 2 days.

    I stayed the night in the hospital after finding out that she fell out of the bed.  Turns out that kidney failure kept the pain meds and chemo drugs accumulated in her system and caused her to hallucinate, slip in and out of lucidity, and lose her coordination.  Through the night and next day I would hear her hallucinating, trying to get out of bed, and have conversations with people that weren't there.

     Then out of the blue....she would call out for me....look right in my eyes....and tell me she loved me, tell me I was a good son.  And then just as quickly slip right back into confusion or sleep.

     We took her home Sunday and hospice was ordered.  There was no way she was swallowing pills at this point and so I was using the dropper to give her the meds.  In a repeat back to the beginning, the medication dosage was WAY too low and she was agitated all through the day and night.  We didn't have a hospital bed and so she was back on the pull out sofa with me sleeping next to her.  I figured out a system of tying a belt from a robe to her waist and the other end to my arm.  Everytime the meds started to wear off or for whatever reason, she would spring upright and try to get up.  Which with her lack of coordination and lucidity meant that she was going to face plant on the floor.  So the robe would pull on me and I'd grab her and try to calm her down.

     We got a hospital bed Monday and after numerous medication increases and home visits the hospice folks decided that on Tuesday morning they would station a nurse with us for the whole day to try to get things under control.  Which they finally did and my mom was at long last resting peacefully.  Those nights I slept next to her on the sofa and still had the robe trick going just in case and woke regularly to give her the droppers of meds.

     On Wednesday morning I went to wake the kids for school at 7 and noticed my mom stirring.  I called in Kathy and we sadly watched as she had her final moments and died.  It was finally over.

The blessings:

     My mom was able to spend the last 6 and a half months of her life with my family.  We spent more time together than we had since I was in high school.

     We had deep conversations about our love for one another, our forgiveness of each other, and the wonderful treat it was for her to watch her grandkids live life over those months.

     My kids were able to hear sweet (and many not so sweet) stories of who I was and who I am in my mother's eyes.  It allowed me to open up honest conversation with them about my life, my shortcomings, and my efforts to overcome things in my life.  I hope and believe that it will allow them to see me as human, fallible, and redeemable when they are struggling in the world.

     I had a renewed relationship with her that allowed me to spend more time with her in those 6 1/2 months than I likely would have had she lived another 15 years in AZ.

     I had the opportunity to love and forgive and move past any let downs I might have had in the past with her.  This is a beautiful thing.

     I love her and miss her and feel lucky that I had the chance to be there for her.