After years of bodybuilding-style training, chasing the aesthetic goal of being as strong, lean, and “nice-looking” as possible, I decided to try something new: starting Olympic weightlifting. I’d admired the power and precision of athletes performing snatches and clean & jerks for years but always thought, “That’s way too technical for me.”

Three months ago, curiosity finally won. I traded in bicep curls and leg presses for barbells only and chalk. I jumped into starting Olympic weightlifting with enthusiasm—but without a coach.

The reality of starting Olympic weightlifting without guidance

Let’s just say Olympic weightlifting is not like your average gym workout. Sure, it’s still about moving weights, but the level of complexity in the movements was a humbling experience. It wasn’t just about strength; it was about mobility, timing, and coordination. And as someone who’d spent years training in a completely different style and running and sprinting a lot, I quickly learned that my foundation was not enough to carry me through.

I spent hours watching videos online, pausing and rewinding clips of lifters like Karlos Nasar, Mattie Rogers and other elite athletes. I devoured free content on social media, from quick tips on grip and stance to breakdowns of the first pull in a clean.

Greg Everett’s book Olympic Weightlifting: A Complete Guide for Athletes & Coaches became my go-to reference. This is my Bible now. If you’re new to the sport, I can’t recommend it enough. It’s packed with everything you need: technique breakdowns, programming guidance, and troubleshooting tips. Combined with the free content on his site and social media, it felt like I had access to an entire library of weightlifting wisdom.

But as helpful as these resources were, something was missing. Watching videos and reading guides couldn’t give me real-time feedback. I didn’t know if my snatch was going wrong because of my hip position, my timing, or something else entirely.

The struggles of self-coaching

Without a coach, I was left to figure it out myself—and that led to some serious challenges:

1. I’d often get stuck trying to remember every cue I’d read or seen online, leading to paralysis mid-lift. Overthinking is a classic struggle for weightlifters of any skill level.
2. I didn’t realise how crucial mobility was until my shoulders and elbows screamed at me during an overhead squat and a clean. Despite my mobility being excellent for a woman of my age, I was missing an important detail: boosting my mobility routine.
3. One week, I’d PR my clean; the next, I couldn’t even hit my warm-ups because of a tweak in my form I couldn’t identify. The inconsistency in my progress was a good clue that I was doing it all at my best capacity, but it was probably mostly wrong.

The turning point: hiring a coach

After nearly three months of trial and error, I decided to hire a coach. It’s one of the best decisions I’ve made. In just a week, the changes were already visible. My coach spotted flaws I didn’t even know existed, like my bar path in the pull and my habit of hesitating during the turnover. They also revolutionised my starting position, giving it that intention it lacked.

Having someone provide immediate feedback and personalised corrections has been a game-changer. Instead of fishing through online tutorials, I now also have a clear path forward.

Lessons learned along the way

Looking back, here are my biggest takeaways from starting Olympic weightlifting without a coach:

1. Books and online content are fantastic starting points (seriously, check out Greg Everett’s work), but nothing beats having someone there to watch your lifts in real-time. You can’t replace real feedback.
2. Don’t underestimate how much flexibility and joint health affect your lifts. Start working on it from day one. Mobility is lyfe.
3. Olympic weightlifting is a skill sport. You won’t perfect your lifts overnight—and that’s okay. Progress takes patience. Lots of patience. Think of being patient, then multiply it by 500.
4. Whether it’s hitting a clean pull without losing balance or finally sticking a snatch, every step forward is worth celebrating. Celebrate small wins.

Why I fell in love with weightlifting

Despite the initial (also current) struggles, Olympic weightlifting has given me a sense of purpose in the gym I hadn’t felt in years. It’s not just about how I look anymore; it’s about how I move, how I feel, and how I overcome challenges. There’s something incredibly satisfying about the pursuit of mastering such a complex sport, even if it’s just for myself.

So, if you’re thinking about starting Olympic weightlifting—do it. Watch the videos, read the books, and immerse yourself in the world of snatches and cleans. But if you’re serious about getting better, don’t be afraid to find a coach sooner rather than later. Your future self (and your barbell) will thank you.