Flame Out

In 1972 I Turned My Back on Progressive Resistance Training

In 1972 I turned my back on progressive resistance training. After eleven years as my passion, my raison d’être, as the focus and center of my life, I found myself in a place and time that made it easy to drop all things athletic. So I turned my back on the thing that had provided me with my defining characteristics: size, strength, muscle, power, and the earned swagger and arrogance that goes with the possession of such things.

I quit.

It was a reaction and overdue. I was burnt out. For the first time in my life I got out of shape. That took a lot of work. I was naturally predisposed to be in shape: as a lifelong athlete with good genetics and a savage work ethic, as a man with superb mentors and a decade of competitive experience, it took a lot of hard work to get out of shape.

The disciplined regimentation that is the essence of lifting was clashing with my life and preferred lifestyle. The lifting mindset requires patterned existence and regimented regularity. I was heading in the opposite direction.

The Press Was My Bread and Butter Lift

My official quitting occurred when the world weightlifting federation removed the clean and press from international competition after the 1972 season. I was an Olympic weightlifter and the press was my best lift, my bread and butter lift, my leg up.

The modern International Weightlifting Federation’s own historical account describes the press as one of the three Olympic movements from 1928 onward and notes that constant technical changes, judging difficulty and medical concern over exaggerated lower-back arching all contributed to the decision. From 1973 forward, the two competitive Olympic lifts were the snatch and clean and jerk. Read the IWF’s history of the end of the press movement.

Back then, for a young man whose best Olympic lift was the press, the decision felt personal. The lift that suited me best, the lift where brute strength and pressing power could still matter, had been removed from the contest.

Let us sidebar for an instant and relate some overhead press history.

How the Olympic Press Evolved

In the 1930s and 1940s, the competitive press was still close to the “military press” ideal. The heels were touching, the torso was brutally upright, and the lifter had to maneuver the barbell around the chin on the way up and again around the top of the skull on the descent.

In the 1950s and early 1960s, judges began allowing a slight layback at the start of the Olympic press. This enabled the lifter to avoid hitting the chin at the start. It also turned the military press into a steep incline press, and as a result, records soared.

Paul Anderson was the all-time champion at this type of strict pressing, at least in the old iron-game retellings. At his awesome peak he was credited with overhead pressing enormous poundage in strict style after taking the loaded barbell out of the squat racks. His exact best rack-press number should be treated as old-school strength lore unless the source is independently verified, but no one disputes that Anderson was one of the most powerful pressers in history.

The next Olympic press iteration occurred when judges started allowing lifters to use backbend. As a presser is pushing a limit weight overhead, the natural tendency is to bend away from the payload, thereby improving leverage. Leaning away from the barbell, using backbend as the bar passes through the sticking point, makes pressing easier.

Once the judges allowed bending backward during the press, the gold rush was on. Lifters mastered super-deep, lightning-fast laybacks and extreme laybacks. Records soared.

By the mid-1960s, the “Russian Press” had become the gold standard. The lifter would start the press from a layback position and when the referee gave the “Press!” command, the slumped lifter would flex the torso and come rigidly erect. This violent jolt would throw the barbell upward to forehead level, at which point the lifter would perform a deep layback and lock out the press. This was speed, athletics, timing and power all combined.

Records soared.

The Finns came up with yet another technical twist: start the press standing bolt upright; when the referee yells “Press!” slump and immediately rebound from the slump, thus throwing the bar toward forehead height with even more violence. The slump-and-heave press finished with a backbend or layback that could approach the absurd.

Records soared.

The final press devolution occurred when judges began allowing lifters to start the press with unlocked knees. Presses became something closer to push-jerks. Records soared again. The same judging permissiveness that allowed the press to mutate then became part of the argument that the lift was unjudgeable.

All they had to do was tighten up the judging. They were the judges. The athletes were simply taking advantage of what was allowed.

Why the Press Disappeared

The official historical explanation centers on technique drift, judging difficulty and injury concerns from extreme layback. My own lifter’s interpretation at the time was harsher: I believed the powerbrokers wanted shorter, cleaner competitions and were happy to remove the slowest, most disputed, most strength-dependent lift from the program.

The Olympic press, even with all the complex layback techniques, was still a strength lift. Without the press, the more acrobatic and facile athletes, those adept at the quick lifts, gained an insurmountable advantage.

All the bruiser types left Olympic lifting.

I quit lifting in a huff when the press was removed.

Why I Walked Away

In truth, the press removal was not the only reason I flamed out. I had not really had the steady training or the steady life needed to maximize training results. I was bouncing around between Portland and D.C., and when I quit going to Loprinzi’s Gym my training became sporadic and ineffectual.

I had also been reading up on Chinese martial arts styles, and some practitioners claimed that weight training interfered with “chi circulation.” I later found this to be superficial and bogus, but at the time I wanted to try some of these Chinese internal martial styles that dissuaded weight training.

Add to this the removal of the Olympic press and I had a lot of good incentive to take a time-out from resistance training.

I did not make a calm, rational, long-range decision. I flamed out. I walked away from the iron, the regimen, the discipline and the identity. For a while, I wanted the opposite of sets, reps, meals, schedules, barbell math, and the relentless pressure of progress.

It took me years to understand that a man can leave the iron, but if the iron has truly gotten inside him, the separation is temporary.

Equipment Notes for the Pressing and Power Era

The old Olympic press world was built around barbells, plates, racks, benches, collars and hard surfaces. Modern lifters rebuilding overhead pressing strength or general barbell power need the same basic categories, only with safer and more dependable tools.

For barbell-based training, start with appropriate Olympic weightlifting bars, secure barbell collars, and compatible weight plates. A bar such as the Body-Solid black oxide Olympic weightlifting bar can serve general strength-training needs when used within its stated specifications.

Those training the press from supports need properly set power racks or squat racks. Pressing, benching, and auxiliary strength work also require stable weight benches that match the athlete, lift, and load.

For repeated plate loading, American Barbell rubber Olympic grip plates are one example of a plate style that is easier to handle than old smooth iron. For dedicated training rooms, Regupol Aktivplus 1/2-inch rubber flooring rolls can help protect the training surface and create a more durable lifting environment.

The equipment does not create passion. It only gives passion a place to express itself.

Safety Note for Historical Pressing and Heavy Barbell Training

The historical Olympic press is not the same thing as the modern strict overhead press. Extreme layback pressing, unlocked-knee pressing, heavy rack pressing and behind-the-head pressing place major demands on the shoulders, elbows, wrists, trunk, and lower back.

Use conservative loading, secure collars, appropriate rack height, clear floor space, and competent spotters where needed. Do not copy historical Olympic-press techniques from old photos or stories without qualified coaching. Stop for sharp pain, dizziness, numbness, loss of position, or uncontrolled backbend. This article is a historical and personal RAW column, not individualized medical, rehabilitation, or programming advice.

RAW with Marty Gallagher, J.P. Brice, and Jim Steel Podcast.

About the Author: Marty Gallagher

As an athlete Marty Gallagher is a national and world champion in Olympic lifting and powerlifting. He was a world champion team coach in 1991 and coached Black's Gym to five national team titles. He's also coached some of the strongest men on the planet including Kirk Karwoski when he completed his world record 1,003 lb. squat. Today he teaches the US Secret Service and Tier 1 Spec Ops on how to maximize their strength in minimal time. As a writer since 1978 he’s written for Powerlifting USA, Milo, Flex Magazine, Muscle & Fitness, Prime Fitness, Washington Post, Dragon Door and now IRON COMPANY. He’s also the author of multiple books including Purposeful Primitive, Strong Medicine, Ed Coan’s book Coan, The Man, the Myth, the Method and numerous others. Read the Marty Gallagher biography here.