For a 50th birthday lift, try 300 pounds

Boom!  Three hundred pounds of iron come crashing to the floor of the Synergy Fitness Club in Merrick.

Even heads cocooned in headphones turn -- Sunday morning workouts interrupted by the ruckus. The man responsible, Richard Seibert, smiles ruefully.

"Sorry," he says. "That's all I've got."

For a newly minted 50-year-old, Seibert still has plenty: Plenty of power, plenty of gumption to even attempt to lift the equivalent weight of a National Football League offensive tackle over his head.

The goal to lift the 300- pound barbell was a rather unusual way of celebrating his 50th birthday, which was Feb. 6. Exactly a week later, he was in the gym, surrounded by friends who were there to witness this feat of strength. No mere show-off, Seibert wanted his weighty efforts to serve as a reminder that we can maintain muscular strength as we age.

Science backs him up.  According to a report published last month by the American College of Sports Medicine, adults who lift weights regularly have less age-related muscle loss and can live independently longer. The current study, which analyzed the results of 49 studies on the effects of resistance training on seniors, found that while it's never too late to start, those who accrue the most benefits are adults who have lifted weights throughout their lives.

Siebert, a chiropractor from Merrick with short-but-sequoia-like legs, has been lifting weights since he was 12. But while he wants older adults to recognize the importance of resistance training, he is quick to point out that the kind of lifting he does is not for everyone. Called Olympic weight-lifting, it's the rugged barbell sport seen in competitions, including the quadrennial Games.

In Olympic weightlifting, heavily muscled men (and since the 2000 games, women as well) perform two lifts rarely seen in gyms -- the snatch and the clean and jerk. These are explosive, total-body movements in which ungodly amounts of weight are hoisted overhead with an effort that's often accompanied by an adrenaline-filled scream.

Seibert, whose muscular but compact 5-foot-7 frame is ideally suited for the sport, started competing as a teenager, winning three junior national championships as well as the Empire State Games and other championship events.

About six months ago, with his 50th birthday looming, Seibert, a married father of three, decided he needed a big lift. "You look for landmarks in your life," says Seibert, who grew up in East Meadow. "This seemed a good time to try and give the heavy lifting another shot."

"Exercise lends itself to this kind of goal setting," says exercise scientist Michael Rogers, research director for the Center for Physical Activity and Aging at Wichita State University in Kansas. "We're not likely to be able to lift what he [Seibert] can. But we should all have goals that are achievable. Maybe for the average senior, it's lifting a 10-pound dumbbell or just getting into the gym twice a week."

The goal Seibert set for himself is far beyond the range of most people of any age: 300 pounds, which he describes as "a nice round number," was also a weight he hadn't approached in 10 years. His personal best is 308 pounds, which he did 20 years ago.

Even for an experienced lifter, this required preparation. He trained three times a week, 90 minutes per session. He even brought his own weights to the gym -- special, rubber-coated weights with "Dr. Seibert" embossed on each. They're calibrated by kilograms, as they are in the Olympics.

The workouts attracted notice. "It's definitely motivational, watching him," says Ken Drewes, 43, of Merrick.

"I hope I can do half as well as he can in nine years," said Seibert's 41-year-old training partner, Tom Jacoby of Long Beach.

On the morning of the big lift, Seibert began his warm-up using just the 44-pound bar, going through the mechanics of the movement clean and jerk, which he modified slightly to compensate for his aging knees.

In official competition, the two-phase lift begins with the weight on the floor. The lifter flips the weight onto the chest and descends into a squat position, then drives the body and the weight to a standing position. This is the "clean" phase. Seibert, instead, would start with the bar placed on a rack at shoulder height, and from there perform the "jerk" -- lifting the bar overhead.

He warmed up, gradually adding weight plates. Things got serious with four plates on each side: a total of 128 kilograms -- 282 pounds -- only 18 pounds shy of his goal. Seibert paused before he attempted this lift, and the knot of people now watching him was hushed in anticipation.

He approached the rack and stared at the bar, as if daring it to raise itself. "By the time I lift, I've already done it in my mind," he explained later.

In one explosive movement, Seibert flips the bar from the rack onto his chest, bobbing to absorb the weight, then standing straight. Here, with the bar balanced along the natural shelf created by the pectoral chest muscles, Seibert pauses, his expression grim, as he prepares to thrust the weight over his head.

"C'mon, Doc!" cries Jacoby. "Up! Up!"

Up it went. With one explosive move and a loud grunt, Seibert thrusts the bar overhead, arms locked, while his legs split into a V-position to provide a stable platform for the weight. Pausing there again, he then brings the legs together, standing tall with the barbell over his head, in the triumphant pose of the successful lifter.

Applause breaks out and even the tattooed young men admiring their biceps in the mirror stop to see what's going on.

Now it's time for 300 pounds. Same buildup; same stare. But this time the drive is not as confident, the weight wobbles momentarily, and . . . Seibert tosses it on the floor. "Sorry, folks," he says.

A few minutes later, he's ready for a second attempt.

But again, he can't quite get under it -- and rather than risking injury (you don't want 300 pounds falling back on your head), he again tosses the bar, causing another minor earthquake in Merrick.

"I still feel pretty good," he says later. "This is part of what goal setting is all about. If you don't make it, that's not the end of the story. I'm just going to try again in six months."