Wednesday is bench press night, as you know, of course. My lifting is unremarkable these days. I don't have my heart set on a goal and it shows. Let's not talk about my lifts. Let's talk about spotting.
A new guy, big dude, joined our group last night. Also, Mike wasn't there. I've told you about Mike, right? How he's my lifting partner and he's so perfect? We've been lifting together for more than a year now; he totally knows my form and the cues I need and he is completely, completely focused when he spots me. I trust him absolutely, which makes my lifts that much easier. I spot him, and I think the trust goes both ways. But this new guy! He doesn't trust my spots!
I suppose it isn't his fault. He's big. He lifts heavy weights. He doesn't want them to fall on him. He doesn't know what I can lift. But dude. If I'm standing on the bench to spot you, I can deadlift what you are benching. Besides, the thing I figured out about spotting someone's bench is that you don't have to catch the whole weight. The bencher can lift all but the last few pounds. If you can give any kind of assist, the bencher can get the rest of it. I wouldn't do that, of course. If I'm helping lift a failed press, I'll help with what I've got. But the spotter only needs to be able to give enough help to get the increment, not the whole weight.
This new dude! He didn't know me, and I saw him pull our trainer aside to suggest side spots. Of course the lifter should have whatever spots make him trust the lift. He shouldn't have the faintest hesitation distracting him. If he wants side spots, he should have them. BUT I HAD THE SPOT. It was safe. Perfect Mike already knows that. Perfect Mike would never doubt me. (For that matter, I would ask for side spots before I let myself do a spot I wasn't certain of.)
For that matter, the new dude didn't spot me right. By "right", I mean, exactly like Perfect Mike does. He handed me the bar more abruptly. He didn't coo and murmur and shout at me exactly the same. He took the weight off too fast. I trusted him; he's a giant and I got the feeling he could twirl my loaded bar like a baton. I didn't ever think it would fall. But you know. He's not Mike.
I shouldn't let myself get as dependent on Mike as I am. I think there's a strong tendency for lifters to get into OCD rituals, down to tiny details. I know lifters who like the bar to line up with the ceiling tiles when they bench press. TheAre's a lot to having every lift be as close to the same as you can make it. But (and this is tragic), Perfect Mike has an independent life and can't always be there to spot me. I suppose I should be able to be spotted by other people who aren't perfect.
Whatever. The new dude is going to join our group for a while, so he'll get to know me. Next week he'll watch me and Mike, and see that another man trusts my girl spotting. (Unless he has Mike spot him, in which case he's lucky, because Mike is a great, focused spotter. I may have mentioned that.) I'll get over myself. I'm sure the new dude will become one of us soon enough.
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