Pyrrhic Victory?
By Glenn Buechlein, CSCS
For EliteFTS.com


It’s a typical Thursday morning during my summer break from teaching. I never sleep in so when sunlight streamed through the partially covered window I instinctively knew I was not on my usual biorhythmic schedule. Generally, at the same time every morning without the need for an alarm clock I spring from my slumber and begin my day with a pot of java that could be eaten with a spoon just as easily as sipping it from a cup. This day was clearly different. If a cattle prod was shoved up my backside I still would not been able to jump up and out of bed. Paralysis is the best description of my condition. Paralysis that is similar to the poor little fish that falls prey to electric eels. I wanted to move. I needed to move. I was requesting that my brain order my body to initiate some sort of motion to no avail. 

I could not physically move, but I could manage to mentally muster a few thoughts in my head. I contemplated Pyrrhus, mighty King of Epirus, who exclaimed after a victory that he had won the battle, but he could not afford another similar win because he had lost nearly all his men. Today, a pyrrhic victory is one in which the cost is greater than the benefits. Had I too experienced too costly a victory? What caused me to be in my vegetative state? Did I unintentionally consume something or ingest a debilitating drug? Perhaps my wife’s list of chores and honey-dos (honey do this, honey do that) had weakened my body. Nope. The culprit was of my own free will and choosing. I had participated once again in my annual summer squat/strongman night. For me, strongman night is like eating hot peppers. I try to stay away when they are available, but like a moth to a flame I am attracted. I love the challenge of devouring peppers even though I know the next morning will be an uncomfortable painful experience that will leave me mumbling that I will never do it again. The exact same thing I was now muttering.

My squat/strongman adventure began several years ago when I decided I needed a new challenge and I wanted to prove that I could still hang and bang with the young whippersnappers who frequented my home gym. Am I a strongman type athlete? No. Do I like to lift heavy objects? Yes. I secured some typical strongman type training equipment such as big rocks, sandbags, tires, kegs, a steel log, and a wheelbarrow. I also read several articles and even purchased a book on strongman type training. The stage was set for all hell to break loose.

Our first attempt at this type of lifting had us fumbling around like a teenage boy trying to de-bra a girl on his first date. We all quickly realized that even though we were far from being experts, we enjoyed the comradeship and intensity associated with old school lifting. Washington, Indiana is not exactly the Mecca of weightlifting. It is more like the Timbuktu of the iron game. It should come as no surprise then that every Wednesday when we strolled outside and began our training that we were met with inquisitive stares and several shakes of the head. Those damn boys! Neighbors peered through windows or made unneeded visits to the mailbox in order to catch a glimpse of the ogres who had invaded their quiet and quaint surroundings. Many an epic struggle has taken place in our small alley without any great crowds cheering or eventual ESPN highlights. If I felt the workouts were sub-par I discovered a simple solution. A tool to adrenalize any workout is a camcorder. This device ensured that the posterity of all participants would be able to view failings that may have transpired in this, the summer of their vigor and youth. No loafing could take place. No fish stories could be told.

You may be asking, “So what does one of our Wednesday strongman/squat workouts encompass?” We start our workouts with a version of the squat. These could be regular box squats ala Westside Barbell speed squat workout. For instance, we may perform 10 sets of 2 reps with 50-60 percent of our max, finishing with a few sets of singles. A personal favorite of mine, due to my inability to externally rotate my shoulders, is the use of the SSB(safety squat bar) for sets of 10 reps adding weight each set until 10 reps cannot be performed. A typical rep scheme would look something like this: 275x10, 315x10, 365x10, 415x10, and finally 465x10(hopefully). Other variations for the squat include manta ray squats with a close stance, squats with bands looped through a belt around our waist and then under our feet, and platform band squats. These are tough and require a high degree of core strength. I had a platform constructed that is comprised of 2x4’s and plywood. The dimensions of the platform are approximately 3x3’. We stand on top of the platform and have spotters secure the bands around the platform and then drape the bands over the shoulders of the lifter. The tension involved is extreme and is heightened because we choose to squat down to a 9” hassock. I realize this is a tough thing to envision, but I guarantee that this is an ass kicker.

After the squatting is done we generally move on to a variation of the deadlift. Usually, we stick to rack pulls inside the power rack. We increase the degree of difficulty by occasionally incorporating a thick bar for our pulls or by including bands and chains in the mix for added resistance. If we don’t pull we take turns cleaning the steel log. The steel log weighs around 185 lbs. and is certainly a piece of equipment that would be a positive addition to any gym. A high amount of reps is the flavor of the day for the steel log. It is not unusual for lifters to knock out sets of 20-30 reps per set. Many a poor soul has dropped like a sack of potatoes upon completion of the log cleans, but just when someone thinks the suffering is over we make our trek outside and apprehensively gather the evening’s implements of doom.

Mainstays in our outdoor palace of pain include kegs and barrels, a 400-500lbs tire, a smaller tire, and a wheelbarrow. We strive to save the toughest most physically tasking exercise for last to secure our ability to do more than one event before collapse. A good initial strongman exercise would be some type of press overhead. We have cleaned and pressed stones, kegs filled with water and sand, barrels partially filled with water, and military duffel bags loaded with 150-200 lbs. of sand. All these present their own unique challenge because of the awkwardness associated with hoisting objects that are not balanced and stable like bars and plates in the weight room. For example, the kegs and barrels slosh around and force the lifter to call upon and often beg for help from stabilizers that are normally not implored. Duffel bags purchased from any army surplus store are a cheap necessity for strongman training. They can be loaded with sand and pressed overhead, bear-hugged and carried, dragged backwards, or just shouldered repetitively. We also fill two duffel bags with 150 lbs. of sand each and do farmer walks. These are brutal because the handles dig into your hand to the point of occasionally feeling as if blood is flowing. Not that this would be a bad thing.

Tires are great toys for cocky little boys. It looks so easy on TV. Yeah right. We do the standard tire flip except we start in the down position. What I mean is that we flip the tire like the guys on ESPN’s World Strongman contests. Our strategy is to flip the tire as quick as possible the length of my fence row. Several of us have flipped it seven times in less than 20 seconds. Granted, our tire is not nearly as gargantuan as the one on WSM, but it does provide an adequate challenge to wannabe strongmen. We also invented something with the big tire that we refer to as hop pulls. This involves grasping the tire on its upper lip or rim while it is flat on the ground and pulling the tire backwards. Because of the tire’s proximity to the lifter’s knees and legs the person has to simultaneously pull backwards while also executing a mini hop. This technique with the tire really nails the posterior chain and puts the bun and thigh master to shame. Our tire team also includes a medium sized tire that probably weighs in the neighborhood of 100-150 lbs. We tie a heavy rope around the tire and do hand over hand pulls in order to reel the tire in from 20 yards away. We add weight simply by alternating lifters of varying bodyweights to sit on the tire while someone pulls it. This serves as a super back, forearm, and bicep builder.

Our finale is an exercise that taxes the cardiovascular system as well as separating the people who can keep their last meal down from the spewers of supper. A truck push is liked by all because of its simplicity. Just get behind my old Dakota affectionately known as the Green Hornet and push till your little heart is content. Actually, we drive the truck to the end of the alley and begin from a dead start. The alley originates with a slight incline and finishes with a small slope downward. The incline forces the pusher to really chop their feet much like a drive block in football. This action really pumps up the calves and thighs and results in quite a few muscle cramps that make walking treacherous and sleeping almost impossible.

The wheelbarrow looms in the background as a sort of beacon of barf. No one will openly admit it, but silent prayers take place in the hope that the wicked wheelbarrow will not be chosen. Hearts drop when the command is given. “Mr. Wheelbarrow come on down you’re the next contestant on The Pain is Right.” We race it down the alley and back in what equates to running an all out 400 meters on the track. We take a typical wheelbarrow and load a keg or barrel in the center and surround it with five 50 lb. bags of sand. The weight is not a huge factor, but the shifting of the water in the keg while running with the wheelbarrow has created several harrowing experiences for people trying to negotiate a pinpoint turn at the end of the alley. Numerous novices have sent the keg rolling recklessly down the street. Once, some local in-breeders in a “pick ‘em up” truck stopped when they encountered our runaway keg and inquired whether it had any beer in it. When the reply was no, they vamoosed without offering aid of any kind to our downtrodden wheelbarrow racer. Yee-Haw!!! I do take extreme pleasure in the fact that as the oldest member of my crew I consistently win the wheelbarrow event. I am by no means the fleetest of foot, but I manage to negotiate the ever so important turn at the end of the alley with a pirouette that would have the Bolshoi begging for more.

I must admit, much like a patron to the infamous Mustang Ranch many people have “come” and gone through the years to my strongman night. I sporadically question why I put myself through the rigorous regime on Wednesday nights. Hell, there has to be a reality TV show I’m missing and could become addicted to. I honestly believe that I enjoy this night of suffering because of schadenfreude, a neat German word meaning to take pleasure in other people’s pain. I feel like a failure if individuals do not experience the ultimate in training torture. Is this weird?

Let’s break things down and see if my strongman undertaking could be defined as a pyrrhic victory. When it is all said and done is our strongman night worth it? My benefits are numerous. I obtain a huge spike in my self-esteem for completing my array of sadistic exercises. I deserve several “atta boys” for fulfilling a challenge that most people would not undertake. The whole experience is a cardiovascular workout second to none. I receive an increase in overall strength and endurance. I bond with my workout partners an exhibit a male love that is rarely seen outside the confines of boy bands. I use this night as an excuse to grill and share my hard earned food with my compatriots. Whew! That’s a lot of benefits.

And now for the cost of these days. It’s Thursday again… Uhh…. “Yeah, Hello...911…Uhhh…Yeah… I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”

Good lifting!