Behind the request for speed lies the physics of first going slow

Olympic weightlifting is an object lesson in what it takes to move mass. It’s also an apt metaphor for the physics of life.

The relationship between the literal physics of moving mass and the figurative physics of moving an idea, project, skill, or relationship forward is something I think about a lot. Especially whenever the concept of “going faster” comes up.

A few recent examples I’ve encountered:

• At work… how can we get successful results faster?
• When learning something new… when will I be good at this new thing?
• When someone close to you asks… how long do you think it will take me to [find a new job, get promoted, close this deal, lose weight, find a great life partner]?

I believe the answer to all of these inquiries are as simple as they are complex:

First it’s very slow and deliberate, until one day it’s fast.

And while “going slow to go fast” is not a particularly novel idea and Aesop taught us that “slow and steady” arguably wins the race, it wasn’t until my weightlifting coach Mark Griffin said “slow, slow… FAST” as a cue a few years ago that the concept took root.

But the metaphor goes even deeper. Let me explain (with the help of this video from Physics Online).

When it comes to weightlifting, what moves mass isn’t pure strength. It’s the interplay between force, relative position, velocity, and timing — summed up in Newton’s second law of physics: Force equals mass times acceleration.

Source: Physics Online.

Applying this ‘law’ to my work, my decision making, my skill building has been helpful; sometimes I realize after the fact that I went slow to go fast (e.g. 15 years of doing something to then trust my intuition); other times, I stop myself from wanting something immediate and back up to ask: ‘what is the ‘going slow’ I need to do here to eventually be able to speed up?

It’s a thought that turns over in my head whenever I feel people wanting to go faster.

This was more than a cue for Olympic weightlifting, it was a law of physics.

And, perhaps, applicable to every aspect of life.

Studying and practicing the two Olympic lifts — the snatch and the clean-and-jerk —I am humbled and awed by a few immutable facts:

1. The first pull off the ground is the hardest. You are working against an object at rest. It will never be heavier than in the beginning. The best lifters know to be patient and resolute: keep the bar close; trace the outer lines of your shins, then knees, then quads; do not start the second pull just yet.
2. The greater your connection to the ground, the more you can lift. Just as you are pulling, you are in equal efforts pushing away from the ground. Pushing through the mid-foot, into the floor, acts as a force-multiplier of your efforts. Your strength alone can move some mass; however it’s (your strength) x (the force recruited from the earth) that equals your ability to move even more mass.
3. The more patient you are at each stage, the greater the outcome. As you pull the bar up your shins and around your knees, while simultaneously pushing away from the ground, the dance between force and velocity heightens. Before beginning the second pull, the best weightlifters in the world: keep their shoulders back and lats engaged; keep their heels firm to the ground; and continue to move the bar up their quads, all the way up to the hip crease. It is at this moment you, as the linked video above from Barbell Shrugged instructs: “pull the bar as hard as you freaking can.” Pull too soon and you’ve reduced your chances of transferring the maximum amount of force into the mass you are moving. Pull right on time, and wow, it’s other-worldly.
4. The faster you drop under the bar, the less you have to lift it. There is yet another aspect of physics at play in maximizing the Olympic lifts: speed under the bar. Perhaps one of the best examples of this comes in watching Naim Süleymanoğlu, the strongest man to have ever lived (based on his strength-to-weight-ratio, also known as the Sinclair Coefficient). One could interpret this as “be quick enough and clever enough and you have to do less work,” but having worked on it for the better part of my adult life I can attest: to get that low, that quickly takes an immense amount of work to be that explosive and that limber.

The video included here below is one of my top 10 re-watched videos of all time. It’s gripping — and the final shared moment at the end is virtue and mutual respect expressed in the highest regard.

The historic battle for Atlanta Weightlifting gold | Olympic History

Aside from making me a smarter athlete and physically stronger, I’ve been enjoying how ‘slow, slow… fast’ has shown up in my life.

To feel weightless in a task, I dedicate myself to the process.

To stay connected to the natural world, I press my mid-foot to the ground.

To speed up, I slow down.