Twenty-seven years ago I was having fun in the heats of the UK Strongest Man competition where I was strong enough to move the kit about but never near to qualifying for the afternoon sessions. The best battled for a place in the finals to be held elsewhere. Britains Strongest Man on at the same time was a higher level – I was nowhere in that league, but some of the UKSM guys were in both and I knew a few of them. One who I didn’t know who was there was Bob. Bob trained with some of the big names of the time and noticed the guy with the beard and silly name. Three years ago, at an armwrestling event we got talking and became good friends.
So it was then on the first part of the weekend Max and I went over to his gym to make our attempts at David Horne’s Stones of Strength competition. A good week of training behind us I felt strong and hopeful. Max was less certain. Once there, Bob looked after us very well, his gym has carpet, mirrors, proper weights on racks and well organised machines. Conversely mine is open to the rain, populated by scrap metal, concrete, spider webs and last years leaves. Still, I designed it and it has served me well for many years and open all hours.
We lifted flat discs by our fingertips, later carried them awkwardly and also used Stanley Hamilton’s Hex handle to lift some one handed. Bob, 9 years my senior, outlifted me on everything whilst Max, much younger and lighter had some impressive strength to weight numbers that I couldn’t match. There’s no rivalry– it’s one of those things where we want each other to do well. Talk of times past and strongmen we knew filled the afternoon.
Some contrast then with the second part of the weekend where Stevo, John, Chris and I went to the Veterans Judo training session at the GB headquarters. Much older guys showed us how to be efficient, effective and manage our injuries. John and Chris are almost unbeatable when I fight them: they helped me develop the techniques I have so are mostly immune to them. Stevo has taken worse knocks then me, so stops me falling into laziness with his fighting spirit. What great people I get to train with! We are trying to throw each other on the ground and brutalize once there. It’s codified extreme violence which is very good fun.
“If you wake up in the morning with aches and pains, you at least know you are alive,” said our coach, Alan. I conclude that I am very much alive. I had some very good scraps, got knocked about a bit and did some horrible stuff of my own. Last year when much less damaged, I’d wondered how long I could survive. Now I know I can adapt to it. Sure, there’s a lot I can’t do and I don’t worry about it. Improving what I can do and keeping in mind that every minute that I’m not being thrown, crushed or strangled is a victory means that there are good things to take away from every session.
Back home I’m tired, bruised and ready for another week of training. What else is there to do?
See you down the road.
