I tried Olympic Weightlifting for the first time on a three-day Weightlifting Weekend in Devon – Here’s what happened.

I push the bar above my head, my outstretched arms and bent legs burning in protest. My jaw clenches and my eyes burn with sweat as I prepare to stand, but nothing happens. My body is refusing to move. I know I have two choices here: push harder or collapse on the floor with everyone watching.

When founder of More Life Adventures, Stella Kamba, asked me to join a three-day weightlifting weekend in Devon, I was dubious. I’d never picked up a barbell in my life, and the closest I’d come to a CrossFit gym was walking past one in London and thinking how intimidating it looked. Then there was the question of my fitness: I like to hike and go on the occasional run, but three days of training with an Olympic weightlifter? I was out of my depth.

But Stella reassured me that the More Life Adventures Weightlifting Weekend was suitable for beginners. “We all started somewhere,” she told me over Zoom. “It will feel strange at first, but if you’re patient and have an open mind, you’ll get a lot out of it, I promise.”

First meetings

A few weeks later I was on my way to Budleigh Salterton, a tiny Medieval village perched on Devon’s dazzling Jurassic Coast. As our taxi pulled away from Exeter St. Davids train station, I struck up a conversation with two of my fellow guests, who’d arrived on the same train as me from London. “I didn’t sleep last night,” one said as thatched-roofed cottages and green fields dotted with daffodils blurred past the car window. “I’ve never done anything like this before, so I think I’m a bit nervous.”

“It’s my first time doing this too,” the other guest chimed in. “I’ve been training since moving to London a couple of years ago, but the most I’ve done is an hour or two at a time – I’ve never done something like this where you train all day.”

Training with Mike Cerbus

We arrived at the house – a stunning red-brick Georgian manor overlooking the sea – to vegetable lasagne, lentil salad and garlic bread prepared on-site by CrossFit Games Chef and founder of RosieJo Meals, Katie Wells. After meeting the rest of the group over a family-style lunch in the manor’s dining room, we changed into our training gear and headed for CrossFit Pi, a warehouse-sized gym in Woodbury, East Devon stacked floor-to-ceiling with the latest CrossFit equipment.

And that’s how I found myself here: in a low squat position, holding a metal bar above my head and unable to get up. “Your hip and ankle flexibility is good,” Mike Cerbus, a former Team USA Weightlifter and our coach for the weekend, says with gentle encouragement as I tremble on the ground. “I just want you to focus on keeping your gaze up and gripping the bar tight. If you look up, the rest of your body will follow.”

I press my feet into the floor, lift my chin and push up with all I’ve got. There’s no going back now, and I’m convinced I’ll fall. But soon enough my legs and core propel me upwards and there’s a cheer from the gym. I’m up.

“Good, I’m impressed,” says Mike with a smile as I lower the barbell onto the rack.

“Next time, don’t hold your squat so long. Come straight back up as soon as you get close to the floor – this will give you the explosive energy you need to come back up.”

Conversation and a sunset soak

We finish our first day at the gym with a “cool down” – banded squat walks, toe raises, mountain climbers and rowing – before heading back to the house for a sunset soak in the hot tub. The steam from the tub rises slowly into the freshly pruned garden, smudging the silvery sea and dusty-pink sky of Budleigh Salterton like oil pastels on canvas. As the sun dips behind the sandstone cliffs, we talk about long-distance relationships, the pressures of balancing life and work, and where the best pastel de nata in Lisbon can be found. But conversation, naturally, soon turns to weightlifting.

“The competition is always with yourself with Weighlifting,” says one guest over the gurgle of bubbles. “You’re always seeing how far you can push your body – of what you’re really capable of rather than comparing yourself to others. I love that.”

“I like the confidence that Weightlifting gives me,” adds another guest sitting next to me.

“Weightlifting isn’t just about physical strength – it helps people believe in themselves and achieve a whole new level of self-worth.”

Exploring the South West Coastal Path

The next morning we stretch our aching legs with a walk along the South West Coast Path, a 1,011-kilometre route that spans the English coastlines of Devon, Cornwall, Somerset and Dorset. Fuelled with Chef Katie’s silky-smooth scrambled eggs and freshly baked cinnamon sponge cake, we head west towards Exmouth under a blue sky and a crisp wind. The path is blooming with yellow wildflowers and the views are incredible: giant sandstone cliffs, thought to be more than 250 million years old, crumble into the sea, staining the milky-blue English Channel with an earthy-red tint.

Along the trail I get chatting with more of the guests, most of which have come not only to improve their Weightlifting technique but to meet new people. “I love the social aspect of Weightlifting,” one guest tells me as we look out onto pastel-coloured beach huts and wire crab pots on the pebble beach below.

“Weightlifting isn't a team sport, but on trips like these it feels like it is because everyone is cheering you on. Some of the most interesting people I’ve met have been through the Weightlifting community.”

Back in the gym

We follow the smell of beer-battered fish back to Budleigh Salterton and onto the gym, where Mike gets us warmed up with weighted lunges, overhead squats and assisted snatch balances. He’s preparing us for a day of snatching, which I soon learn consists of lifting the barbell from the ground to overhead in one continuous motion.

Mike gives me a band to practice the movement while the rest of the group adds weights to their barbells. “Engage your glutes, chin up and focus on a point ahead,” he says. “As you pull the band, lock your arms and engage your back muscles.” The band’s resistance is enough for me to feel the movement of a snatch, and to appreciate just how challenging it is. I’m only using a resistance band, but after just a few tries my back muscles are burning and the sweat has returned. And this is one of Weightlifting’s easier moves.

“You’re using muscles that you don’t use anymore in your day-to-day,” says Mike as he passes me a training barbell. “Weightlifting is about rediscovering those muscles and seeing what your body is really capable of.”

On the final day of training, Mike walks us through the more advanced lifts like the push jerk and squat snatch, always taking the time to check in on everybody’s individual technique. “In a gym, I normally only get to teach about 60% of what I want to,” Mike tells me as I hang like a monkey from an adult climbing frame to loosen my muscles before the next move. “Experiences like this one allow me to go deeper and work on everyone’s individual needs so much more.”

True value of weightlifting

Before this trip, I thought of weightlifting as a niche sport for elite athletes. What could I – someone who struggles to carry the weekly food shop up the stairs – possibly achieve from a Weightlifting weekend? But I was wrong. For the guests and coaches on this trip, weightlifting isn’t about how many pounds you can lift or how good you look in gym gear. Instead, there’s something far more powerful drawing people to the sport: a sense of community and the constant drive for self-improvement.

Luckily for me, the true value of Weightlifting – a deeper understanding of what your body is capable of and the opportunity to meet like-minded people – is accessible to all.

As written by Jessica Vincent. Jessica is a multi-award- winning travel journalist whose work has appeared in National Geographic Traveller, BBC Travel, CNN, The Telegraph, The Independent and more. Jessica is the current Global Travel Writer of the Year, and has been nominated for four more travel journalism awards in 2021, including Young Writer of the Year, Specialist Writer of the Year and Best Wider World and UK Feature. When she’s not writing for publications, Jessica helps socially and environmentally conscious travel brands build their content strategy and create travel itineraries that educate and inspire.