Competition: Tell us about your favourite lift, win Protein Dynamix goodies

Rob said:Some cracking entries already, it's going to be hard to judge!

I remember taking the video of your lift Andy; glad I let the camera roll - nice to capture some old-school Alan banter!

Also remember being present at Rhinos' for Pete's lift - it was packed and the atmosphere was terrific, what a lift to end the day on.

Wayne_Cowdrey said:Let's have something a bit... different

Although I'm fond of my 108kg strict press without a warm-up that caused uproar on Sugden, I'm going for this display of strength combined with oddness...



Back injury/troubles prompted me to explore 'alternative' exercises. Fell in love with zerchers. Conceived "THE ZERCHER CLUB" on Sugden, which attracted a minority following. 217kg was the heaviest I got to.

Wigan said:Unfortunately for me, my favourite lift was back in 1989, in a time before YouTube and smartphones, and when video cameras were scarce and mahoosive. As such my favourite lift of all time was not captured on film.

The lift itself was at the 1989 English Senior Weightlifting Championships (or The English Natives as it was called then), but the story of the lift starts in the build up.

I was 20 years old and trying to establish myself in the upper echalone of weighlifting in the UK, which at the time had a fair number of superb lifters. My build up to the English Championships was going great, training 5 times per week with a training partner as hungry for success as I was, and a better training partner you couldnt ask for (known in these parts as LittleA).

To challenge for medals at the English I knew I would need to lift weights I hadnt lifted before, and trained accordingly. Clean and Jerks were on the up and pleasingly I was routinely knocking out 160-165s in training. However, 170 was eluding me on a regular basis. I attempted 170 probably a dozen times in the last few weeks build up to the English. Usualy managing to clean it, but failing the jerk was the usual outcome. I even attempted it during an exhibition at a local summer fayre, lifting on the bandstand, where again I cleaned it but just failed the jerk. It just wouldn't go!

Fast forward to the English Championships, and I am in a tussle with two other lifters for second and third place (behind Peter May, multiple Olympian and Commonwealth Medalist). After the snatches there was nothing in it between me, Simon Davis, and Dave Sawyer. 1st and 2nd attempts were tit for tat between the three of us. I decide to sit it out and see what I need for my third attempt. My competitors finish, I have one attempt left, I am currently sat in fourth place. My choices are - 167.5 and pinch third, or 170 and jump into second. I am 20 years old and am flying high on the adrenalin of such a close battle, so obviously call for 170 (although my coach, a great man named Ray Littler had already made the decision for me), the weight that has been beating me in the build up.

I go out on the platform with no doubt that I it is going to be a battle, but one I know deep inside I can pull off. The clean doesnt go according to plan, I catch it slightly forward and have to double bounce out of the bottom. There is a hint of a forward stumble as I stand up. Is it slipping away from me? The crowd know this is a medal winning attempt and are screaming, they want to see this weight go up. I steady myself, deep breath, chest up, elbows up. Shallow dip, big drive. The bar flies up above my head, the split is good but the weight is slightly forward. It's fixed overhead, but in front of me. I recover on my front foot (I know I'll get a bollocking off my coach at some point for this), one step forward, it's stil moving, two steps forward. I can hear Ray screaming for me to hold it. It's still above head, but not yet under control, I'll not get the down signal just yet. One more shuffle and the bar is mine, I have it, it's there, I'm smiling, there are cheers, and shouts. I get the down signal. With great joy, I slam the bar to the ground, my arms are in the air. I've done it! I turn to leave the platform, and see my coach Ray charging towards me, arms in the air, face beaming, as if I had broken a world record, he wanted that lift just as much as me! He throws his arms around me and hugs me as if I've just won Olympic Gold. For me, and for Ray, that 170, on that day was our Olympic Gold, or at least it felt like it.

I walk off the platform and head backstage, still beaming, still buzzing. An older gentleman, of fairly small stature, dressed very smartly in jacket and pants, pencil moustache and slick back hair stops me. The older gentleman is Jim Halliday, or 'Jumping' Jim Halliday as he was known in his lifting days. Jim was a Japanese prisoner of war for three years in WW2, he returned from the prison camp at the end of the war malnourished and weighing about 6 stone. Three years later Jim won a weightlighting Bronze medal at the 1948 Olympics. Jim has quite a story, Google him!

As Jim approached me, he was smiling, and nodding. He took me by the hand, gave me a firm handshake, and reached up to pat me on the shoulder. "Best lift of the championship that son" he said. My day was complete!

I went on to lift more than that 170, but looking back I think it will always be my favourite lift.