“The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows.” —Robert Frost, “Mowing”

“If you learn nothing else from training, it is very important to learn that your limits are seldom where you think they are.” —Mark Rippetoe, Starting Strength

I recently slayed a dragon. It wasn’t a large dragon, but it was mine.

I joined my first gym soon after I turned 25-years-old in 2004, weighing around 160 lbs at six feet one inch. I touched a barbell maybe twice in high school when my dad introduced me to the bench press. I didn’t enjoy it and associated lifting with idiots. It was an unfortunate perception but not completely wrong. Commercial gyms today have no shortage of people whose swagger far exceeds their strength. (These people need to go to a meet and see what real strength is.) I’m convinced that I saved myself from many stupid workouts and injuries by coming to the iron on my own.

According to an old workout log, April 25, 2006, was the first time that I deadlifted. I’m pretty sure I started deadlifting after reading some of Eric Cressey’s articles, which I think prompted my curiosity about powerlifting. (Thanks, Eric.) On that day, I pulled 135 lbs for six reps, called it a day, and like most people, made fast, initial increases. I didn’t realize it, but I had built a good foundation for deadlifting with lots of weighted chins and rows. Weighted dips were another favorite back then, and I still think body weight movements are great.

My interest in powerlifting increased as my passion for deadlifting increased. I had been benching since I started lifting and did (very) partial squats months before my first deadlift. However, it was the deadlift that got me on the platform. I also missed being an athlete. I liked the individual nature of the sport, and I liked the idea of a formal setting to test strength with rules of performance.

I went to my first meet in November 2006 and knew I would be on the platform soon after. I registered for a meet a few weeks later and competed for the first time in February 2007. I weighed in 172 lbs at my first meet and pulled 380 lbs on my third attempt. I had around 400 lbs in me that day, but a pulled lower back after benching combined with lousy sleep kept me conservative, which was smart. Although the 380 lbs went up in around three seconds, my back position wasn’t well maintained, and 400 lbs might have done some damage.

I got 400 lbs out of the way at a push-pull in April 2008 and finished with 413 lbs, lifting in the 181-lb class for the last time. At a push-pull in August 2007 hosted by Bob Youngs and Lance Mosley, I moved to the 198-lb class and pulled 445 lbs.

Then I stalled.

I attempted to break 450 lbs at a full meet in November 2007 and missed it near lockout. At a push-pull in April 2008, I attempted it two more times and missed the same way. In an almost perfect storm of errors in April, I went for a PR after an opener that was way too light. I again pulled my lower back benching and had a cramped hamstring as well. (Improper use of gear had no role in my attempts because I compete raw.)

The good thing about failure is it leads to introspection (if a person is smart). Repeated misses and sciatic pain prompted a lot of introspection. After healing, I focused on hamstring flexibility to address my recurring back issues with the bench, based on the advice of top bencher, Frank Caminita. I also incorporated more upper back work for the deadlift and studied Mark Rippetoe’s writings on deadlift mechanics and technique. Rippetoe’s Starting Strength also had a profound effect on my squat a few months ago when I switched to a low bar position and took his technique recommendations.

On October 26, 2008, I lifted in the 198-lb class at the USAPL Southeastern US Regionals. This was the same meet where I failed to break 450 lbs the year before. I lifted with my training partner, Rick Melear, a 1989 IPF Pan American champion, who returned to the platform after 18 years at 51-years-old as a light 242 lbs. Rick also lifted raw.

After my third squat, I felt my lower back tighten up. It wasn’t a blowout but enough that I knew something had happened. It held up without incident during benching, and then the bar went on the floor. Some lumbar shenanigans couldn’t stand in the way of my PR.

Prior to this meet, I had a bad habit of taking huge jumps between deadlift attempts. For example, at Bob and Lance’s push-pull, I opened at 310 lbs and jumped to 425 lbs. I kept doing it until it stopped working, and then I did it once more. I didn’t make the same mistake again.

I opened at 402 lbs and went to my nemesis of 451 lbs. It broke from the floor quickly and then stalled near lockout for what seemed like an hour. I finally finished it, received the down command, and saw the whites. This was the hardest lift of my life, and it took almost 10 seconds.

I gave 457 lbs a go on my third attempt with a more aggressive set up (my set up on the 451-lb attempt was somewhat hesitant), but my back position at the start was horrible and stalled over the knees. As Louie Simmons once quoted George Crawford, “However you start a lift—that is how you will finish it.” With a truly maximal weight entailing the whole of one’s muscular ability, being amped up won’t overcome grossly inefficient technique and can actually undermine technique. Despite its non-technical reputation, the deadlift involves several form considerations including distance of the shins from the bar, grip width, stance width, toe position, back position, and head position among others.

In contrast, Rick Melear’s technique is the most crisp and assertive that I’ve seen. On his second deadlift, he pulled an easy 589 lbs for a new state master’s record. If not for a groin pull after putting down the bar, Rick would have gone nine for nine. He’ll clear 600 lbs and a 1400-lb raw total in due time.

Pride should never be far from humility. I’m proud to have reached a milestone PR, and I also know what elite strength is. On July 7, 1985, in Chicago, Ed Coan deadlifted 859 lbs in the 198-lb weight class. It remains an all-time world record, and Coan was benching over 500 lbs raw around the same time. This is an inspirational example of human potential and also a check against arrogance. Unless you train at a place like Quads or Westside, being the strongest guy at your gym doesn’t mean what you think it means. Know where you stand, and seek to stand higher.