The English language does not have the words to convey the depths of how much I loathe the deadlift.
Unlike the rack-pull, which starts with the bar somewhat higher off of the floor, the deadlift starts all the way down, with the bar nine inches above the mat. Most people can lift more with the rack-pull than they can with the deadlift — for instance my last rack-pull was 315 pounds and that most recent deadlift shown above is 260 pounds.
Doing a deadlift correctly is uncomfortable for the average lifter. For me, doing them correctly bloody well hurts. When people see me on a cane or walking stick, most who know me figure I needed a weapon to hand — and they’re not wrong — but I’ve also got bad hips, and a bum left knee, so sometimes I need the stick to keep from falling down. Years of knuckle-jousting drunk rednecks in bar parking lots at 2:05AM have gifted me with trauma-induced arthritis in both hands, and my left shoulder looks like a jigsaw puzzle that was assembled by an inebriated chimpanzee.
On top of the injuries, I wear jeans with a 34-inch inseam — which means I’ve got to move that bar a lot further than someone with shorter legs — and I am a light-framed male, which is … not ideal for a weight-lifter.
So, why do I do the damned things? Why do I intentionally and knowingly put myself through that much discomfort every week?
Of all the compound lifts — those lifts that efficiently target the most muscle groups using the most joints — the squat may be the queen, but the deadlift is the undisputed king. No other lift uses that many muscles, joints, and bones. It is as close to a whole-body lift as you can get, and provides the most positive impact on bone density, joint health, blood glucose levels, posture, balance, and everything else I’m strength-training for.
The deadlift sucks for about 45 seconds. Five repetitions of flaming electrical agony in my hands, hips, and shoulder. Those 45 seconds earn me respite from the diabetes that’s taking the vision from my left eye; those five reps keep my posture erect and level, and the entire hour or so workout session keeps my cortisol levels under control, the blood moving, and the mind working.
Yeah, I don’t like the short-term pain and discomfort — and there are many days when I have to talk myself into the gym — but the long-term effects are incontrovertible.
Much like every other decision — and most everything else — involved in being an adult: doing the things that suck now, that you don’t want to do, that you’d just rather not do — doing them now leads to benefits and improvements later.
I don’t have to like it, I just have to do it.
Ian