Georgia (still) On My Mind

Saturday was a good day. I got to spend some time with some good friends and participate in the sport I love, but am genuinely bad at (for now).

My second outing at Georgia's Strongest Man ended in the same result as the first. Dead last in the Super Heavyweight division. But, frankly, I'm just thankful to have been a part of it.

I only trained twice from March 14th to April 25th, and those two times were in a little gym in southeast Russia while my wife and I were away trying to pry our daughter out of the steel trap of the Russian government. I also, lost 23lbs. in that time frame due to the stress and terrible food. When I finally got back to training in late April I could barely squat 325lbs. for a set of three. At that point GSM was six weeks away.

So, I just began there. Chopping wood and gaining weight back and thinking about June 5th. I wanted to compete, even though I knew I would likely finish where I did, despite my best efforts. Slowly the strength came back, and every time I went to the gym I felt like my old self. And every time I thought about the contest I wondered what in the world I was doing.

Then last Saturday, it was finally here. I left out early that morning and made the scenic drive to Douglasville, GA with my father-in-law (he came to drive my mangled body back home if need be).  He asked me if I was nervous about the competition, I wasn't.  When you've stood in a Russian courtroom and contended for the custody of your daughter against a rude and belligerent judge wondering if the child you so desperately want as yours will be given to you, nervous takes on a whole new meaning. I was glad to test myself, I wasn't there to win, I knew going in there would be no chance of that.  I was there so that the Hell Russia had drug us through didn't win.  And that it didn't stop or influence my life any longer and hold me back from who I am.  It was time to live, and make memories, and spend time with friends, and make new ones.

I came close to a couple of PR's on the Axle Press and the Deadlift but fell short, beat a couple of folks on the truck pull, stunk it up on the 750lb. yoke (but I didn't scratch), and got close on the stone #3 on the stone load.  It was certainly not a memorable performance, unless you are me.  I'm proud of the effort, I honestly couldn't have done any better.

Every pound I moved I wholly and fully dedicate to my beautiful wife and precious baby girl.  Being a Strongman will always be a distant third after Husband, and Father.  And the first two are far more rewarding.



Special thanks to Brad Stanford who threatened to slap me if I did not attempt the third stone.  The thought of your meaty bear claw coming at my face produced my best run at stone #3 yet.  Also, the thought of you yelling "War Eagle!" is the only way I was able to even break that 605lb. deadlift off the ground. I knew I should have brought my Snuggie.

Special thanks to Jim Whisman for letting me stand in his enormous shadow while the hot summer sun tried to fry us all.  I'm going to start calling you Jim "The Tennessee Oak" Whisman.


Finally, special thanks to the 75% of you that voted "yes".  I needed that.