Usually, when I return home from a competition, my body is beat down from the events, heavy weight, and the mental preparation that binds it all together. This time, however, I have to give credit to a 24-48hr bug that single handedly destroyed every part of my body. I have fought through many competitive events in my life when I was not 100%...you simply block it out, fight through, and worry about the consequences later. And with two events to go on saturday, that was my game plan.
Hope for the Holidays 8 was my first United States Strongman competition. It was also chalked full of record breakers...i.e. if you want your name highlighted in the USS record book, this was the place to be. Each contestant was able to pick one of two deadlift variations, as well as a clean and press with the log or axle. (Format: three attempts at the chosen lift to achieve a max, each attempt was one minute in length, failing to complete a lift within the minute allowed = you're done). The final three events included a short farmers, five tire flips, and an incline log press...the latter being my favorite.
I was more or less tagging along with Jill on this trip, who had been invited to be a celebrity judge at the competition. Record breaking is not necessarily something that drives me, but a weekend of competition surrounded by top notch athletes in strength sports, well, that does. It was also a once in a lifetime chance to get to hang out with Willie Wessels, Mike Johnston, and Jill to hear legendary stories, as well as plans for the future of US Strongman. And if you must know, the future looks bright! This group is, without question, bound by passion, hard work, and love for strongman.
After a short flight to St. Louis, tracking down my luggage, a shooting at the hotel, and an evening at Hooters, I woke up saturday morning with a game plan in mind, and ready to compete. I opened my axle clean and press at 150lbs, something easy to get on the board. My next attempt at 170 felt solid, even though my overhead lock out was not quite as smooth. 180lbs would have been a PR for me, but my jerk failed twice, the subsequent clean failed, and I called it a day.
Next up was the deadlift. I did a few warm-up pulls under 300lbs, squeezed into Jill's old squat suit, had Jill pick my opening pull (since I have never pulled conventional in gear, it was a shot in the dark), and easily completed my opener at 325lbs. My second attempt was somewhere in the 360-70 range, which, thanks to the gear, flew off the floor. So, with my final attempt, I jumped to 405#. This is a number I have been chasing for quite some time, and regardless of the gear, I wanted know what 400lbs felt like in my hands. It felt awesome!
With the max lifts done, I retreated to my space on the gym floor to kick back, throw down a protein bar, and relax before the farmers carry. I found that I wasn't that hungry, but choked down a few bites before heading to the back gym to check out the tires we were up against in event #5. The tire weights were not an issue, but a slick floor would turn the driving force behind the flip into a straight deadlift. No big deal really.
As I geared up for the farmers carry, Jill mentioned that there was an extra pizza from the pizza truck, if I wanted something to eat. Knowing that I needed some fuel, I agreed, and she brought it over. Now, I am a pizza hound...but the smell of this thing completely disgusted me. Less than an hour ago, as I was talking to the strongman doc, I was thinking how good his pizza looked...kinda weird. Oh well, no time to think, I was up for the farmers...a light, seven second run across the gym.
I was fairly pleased with my run, and already contemplating how I could have made it faster, when this feeling of complete physical exhaustion hit me like a brick wall. Before I even had time to think, I broke out into a sweat, was light-headed, and nauseous. I grabbed a bottled water and sat down. In a matter of minutes, I went from game planning the next event, to wondering if I was going to be able to complete it. The extent of my mental conversation...it's only five flips, suck it up and do it. By this time, I was having trouble putting together or conveying a complete thought...my mind was scrambled, I did not have a clue what was going on, but I finished the flips none the less.
The event I was most looking forward to was remaining, the incline log. I approached the log with the same mindset as the tire...just get through it. I vaguely remember warning my spotter, Jill, that I felt like crap, and beware of flying vomit. I grabbed the log, pressed it twice, put it down, dropped to one knee...and wasn't quite sure if I was going to be able to walk away. One of the last things I remember is Jill telling me to go lay down, stumbling to the other end of the gym, and curling up under some piece of clothing. Both the contest, and I, were done.
The next twelve hours I have very little recollection of except adding layers of clothing when freezing, and shedding those layers when burning hot...and worrying. Although my communication skills were left to simple yes and no responses, my mind was running non-stop. From what the hell is going on...to how am I gonna make a flight the next morning. But guess what, I had the World's Strongest Woman (and a nurse) looking after me the entire night...there was really no need to worry.
Thanks again Jill!
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