Click here for the first part of this article.
Wednesday 15th SeptemberI did some light stretching and that's it. The right forearm was a little sore from Mondays and Tuesdays workout. I am also a little stiff in the lower back which just reminded me to keep stretching.
Thursday 16th September
I've not long been back from getting the very kind and helpful sponsorship dosh from the sorting office. I was, before, 'I can't go without it' and once I started training my ass off I changed that to 'I'm putting it on my credit card and damn the consequences!' However, once back and sanity returned I'd have been well out of pocket and having someone help you with this makes a huge difference to what I am about to do. It relieves you of any of that stress. That said I haven't slept well and I have had a mild headache since I woke. Now it could be a lack of endorphins or I may be dehydrated but it's probably the anticipation of it all...
I will do some light stretching later and will be eating anything that isn't nailed down - esp carbs.
Getting jazzy now. Just spoke to my mum and my daughter. I have to make sure to mention how special everyone, my daughter more than most, has been in supporting me and allowing me a moment or three of selfishness. To not see them while I rest, train and eat for not much more than the glory is beyond words. Even the manager at work wished me well - having done just the one day this week.
On the grip board this evening one of the guys has posted a poll with just 6 names on it - including mine - out of 20 or so possibles. A vote of confidence if ever there was one!
Targets for the GGC?
Include a 150kg / 330lb right hand v bar pull, a 200lb two hand pinch and a 300lb rolling thunder. If I can equal my EU attempts on the grippers I'll be happy. Add a nice 267.5-280kg c bar bend and I think that will be enough to place in the top 3-4.
Friday 17th September
Well finally the big old weekend dawned and I found myself crawling out of bed on the Friday (17th) at 4am. God only knows why that time is on the clock although I was bound by some unknown to see that time way too many times this weekend but onwards.
So with my back already prepped it was a 6am train to Charing Cross, a tube to Paddington and onwards via the rather slick Heathrow Express (recommended if a little pricey). Arriving with time to spare I booked in straight away. Being so early the guy at Air France tells me he can get me on an earlier flight (why not) and so I am away at 9.15 after piss-taking priced pasta - they have us captive so why not take the piss? - buggers!
A short hour later in which the stewards have to practically run in order to get the food served in time and I am at Charles DeGaulle. It's so slick looking that I take a photo. The time seems to fly by (ahem) and all too soon it was sardine time on a 8-hour flight to Pennsylvania airport. You get the same size seats as on the short hop, just more toys to play with. Fortunately I had a very nice companion in the form of a journalist who I only really spoke to on the last ¼ of the journey.
I was met at the Airport by Rob W Vigant and his cousin Rob Vigant (yes really). We hit it off immediately with the 2 nutters even more 'up for it' than I usually am. Indeed I had taken David Horne's advice and was laying it cool. Shortly after we met up with 360lbs Clay Edgin and then after Dan and his wife who had our hired for the weekend minivan (Rob W: 'do they still make these?'). With a probable arrival time of 9-10pm and they rest of the already arrived gang having an evening meal we had to hit the McDonalds and super-size it!
So off we go with some hard rock tunes on the stereo and having finally got the direction vaguely right we were straight into the BS. I can kick that with the best and when one of the Robbies ask how I will do on the Rolling Thunder I tell him 'I'll kick yer ass - you're gonna be my bitch' which set us all off. In between various comments I managed 'you will, of course, be holding my beer when I win' etc, etc.
So there we are. It's now dark and four hours in, the rain is coming down in sheets, what with the ass end of Hurricane Ivan and we're doing 60 miles an hour and it's so bad we can't see the lines on the road. Having already driven over mud and rubble in an earlier land slide and with Hatebreed shouting and screaming on the stereo we're telling Dan to slow down. Rob W, who is if anything just a little 'off his trolley' starts us all laughing by, in time and using the lead singers voice, tells us Dan is possessed by Satan and wants to kill us all. Even Dan is laughing hard.
Eventually we arrive and as we pull in we see a big old neon sign with 'Welcome Diesel Crew' on it - class! As we book in we're looking around to see if anyone is about and within five minutes or so it seems we've found ½ a dozen fellow grip nuts and grippers are appearing. Clay brings out his Dyno and Rob W is bending a bar behind his back. There's chalk on the reception coffee table and it looks like we've been sniffing lines of coke. I am now bordering on falling over and get out my mobile phone which I had left on UK time and see that it's 4.30am - I've been up 24 and ½ hours and had maybe an hour's kip on the plane - so it was deffo time for bed.
Saturday 18th September
The big day dawns. Again it occurs to me that I have never travelled to the States before and here I am having managed 4000 miles in either direction (8000 miles round trip) for a grip competition!! Having trained my arse off the surreal moment soon disappears
Breakfast
Now, as you'd imagine, I wasn't about to do a full days lifting on a bowl of cereal so as soon as I could I trotted off in the company of one of the big guys (Clay) and we found that the town doesn't really come alive that early on Saturday's and so ended up in a McDonalds eating a breakfast meal. Back to the hotel where we found some more bodies had arisen from the dead and shared some juice and coffee with the guys before packing our bags ready to go.
One of the guys is a 585lbs bench presser and has some blindly good lifting tools and went by the nick-name of Pexter - well he showed me a piece of work in the form of a 300lbs 2-inch thick handled dumbbell that I naturally wanted to have a go at but managed to keep to David Horne's mantra of 'let them play - you're here to win'.
So of we trot very quickly losing the other vehicles and driving over a flooded and fit to burst local river in search of the venue. Before we know it we're up in the middle of nowhere and passed a huge flooding pond which had not only burst its banks but was slowly collapsing the side of the road. So it's a quick u-turn and back into town!!
The town is positively a prime example of middle-America with most of the buildings being Victorian or thereabouts. We managed to find, with Jedd Johnson's help the local YMCA and hustled inside. What a set up! Video screen rigged to a PC for the scores, buckets of ice and drinks, tables of prizes kindly donated by the sponsors and Atomic Athletic had a ton of lifting goodies for people to play with - which I let them do.
Off we go
A quick introduction of all the athletes and a brief explanation of the first event - grippers and off we go!
Grippers
As with events to follow the choices you make have to be careful. Go too high and you sap your energy. In the rising bar events to the same and you've blown it big style. Go too low and it's a wasted effort. Like most of the guys I used my left hand to give the grippers a half squeeze and guesstimate whether or not that bay was going down.
So I open with a so-called 'easy CoC 3' (rated at 280) and it's an absolute piece of piss. Most of the other lifters and squeezers are 'close-setting' even the easier ones and so I am told that my crushing of said grippers is 'hydraulic dude'.
Next I pick up and go for a RB 300 ip (300lbs of pressure) which in training with my own model I had never quite got. However, the pressure of competition and my peers looking on dos the trick and kapow - the bay is slammed shut.
Last but by no means least I aim high and select a Silver Elite (don't know who makes these babies but it's about 1 or 2 down from a CoC 4) and damn it - I am about 1/8th of an inch off. I know this cos there are four guys screaming 'it's nearly there!!' and holding there fingers a tad apart. As before, we may be rivals but they want to see the big lifts, or in this case, the bigger squeezes.
Rolling Thunder
Next up, if memory serves me, is the banker event for me. I loved the fact that I sat there for ages watching athlete after athlete fanny about with what was for me baby weights. As this included some of my rivals it was all the sweeter.
Now I have had the 'pleasure', if that's the right word, of meeting a new handle before many years ago. On my old, battered and hardly turns at all handle I have had some huge numbers. I noticed quite a few of the boys cleaning chalk off the hand and almost 'Chinese burning' both there hands and the sleeve to get better adhesion.
Now I pull, with chalk something around 160-170 and it feels solid. I then select 180 or so and it feels less so. With the eventual overall winner breathing down my neck I get 195 and decide to give this chalk less grip a go. I pull an easy 205 with the next closest guy barely managing 202.5lbs (actual weights are higher as the apparatus wasn't being counted) and even though I have already won this event I pull 210 to a big old round of applause.
Two hand pinch
Vertical bar
This puppy was very nearly another banker for me. I had been jibbing Rob W'Monkey Paws' Vigant that he was gonna be my bitch after this event. As with the RT lift I gave myself loads of time not even touching the handle until 200lbs had been loaded just to get a nice safe lift in. Next up was an easy 280lbs and I completely bolloxed it!! I didn't use the thumb lock and was so pissed at myself that even though I had time I knocked it back.
I pulled 280 easy for my third attempt and took 300lbs for my fourth. Weeks before the event I had pencilled in a 330lbs or 150kg lift and even though Rob W and our fellow lifter Clay Edgin had one more lift and were looking good I took the 150kg sweet as a nut. Rob took a gnats ball more and Clay a little more again. With one lift left Clay asked for Jim Wylie's record and adding a few pounds had a damn good try at breaking it. Baring in mind my previous competition best was 137.5 and in training I had managed a tad over 140 to get the 150 was sweet (the bar weighing 1.6k or 3.5lbs).
Bar bending
I gave away a slight advantage, if one existed here, by the simple fact I had no idea what the bars were calibrated at. In the European competition we had used David Horne's challenge bars and I had managed a PB of 267.5kg. I asked Rob 'the Midget' Vigant and he suggested a Grade 8 bar. David had warned me that the grade 5's and 8's had a springy feel to them and he wasn't kidding. As you push down thinking that you have, after nigh on busting a bullock, got the damn thing to within the 2-inches required, you feel it spring back a little.
For my next effort and to try and move back up a place, if at all possible, I chose an Ironmind Red. A super effort on my part and I had barely got the damn thing to 40-degrees. Afterwards I thought I may have played it a little wrong by choosing to do the IM red second and may, just may, have had the strength first time out.
After all these efforts there were some bonus prizes on offer and I had a go at the 5 x 10lb plate lift which I managed quite easily. The 6-plate was too much although I saw one or two get it quite nicely. There were some huge efforts on the farmers lift with close to 500lbs per hand being attempted. Again this was weight alone.
However, once again I was favourite for the Inch dumbbell work. No one, including myself was going to put one overhead today but a timed hold was a piece of piss for me with the closest being 2 seconds to my 7!! I also pulled it to full height and did a from the floor lift with my left hand.
Time, at last, for the trophies and we had Rob W in first, Clay Edgin in 2nd, Jedd Johnson in third, me in 4th, David Morton 5th and Tommy Heslop 6th.
Time to p-a-r-t-y!
Oh yeah. You don't do all that heavy ass lifting and not want a beer. Even the tee-total wanted to chill. So we head straight back to the hotel and of course there's no bar - but we already knew that. So one or two pop out on a 'we'll get some beers' scouting mission but it looks like there is nothing within walking distance.
I manage to stave off immediate pangs by producing the 6 beers I had been very kindly sent by Newgrowth - one of our better Bull members - from the birthday prezzy / care pack she had sent me.
Then we get another call from Jedd and he appears with a set of directions for us all saying that he would catch us up later as he needed to get another anti-rabies jab for a bite from a wild cat. So we head of in several vehicles into what looks like deliverance country. Made more so by the woods and no street lights. Some poor neighbours of his enjoy the somewhat dubious pleasure of a bunch of over-sized rough-necks turning up in their yard before we manage to find the right place.
Anyway we ain't there but five minutes when the guys have me shot-gunning beers, a hole is poked into the side of the tin and the mouth is placed over it then the ring pull pulled and gravity shoots the beer down your throat in about 30 seconds.
Shortly after arrival Tommy Heslop, who has a strength ministry act, produces a straight-jacket (as you do) and almost immediately the Vigant boys are competing as to who can get out of it first. The guys are trying to get me into it but I know only too well that tired muscles will cramp up and I have visions of being cut out of the damn thing. Tommy, who ought to know better, decides to have a go and is asked 'what's your best time' and says '35-37 seconds'. Well 7 minutes later he realises what I already knew and is the only person who tried it who cannot actually get out of it - he was nigh on pleading. Naturally, evil git that I am, I am pissing myself laughing - poor Tommy.
Back in the UK it's getting towards 4 or 5 am and I am falling asleep at the breakfast bar. In between grabbing forty winks I saw Rob W and Clay doing what's called a 'flagpole'. Rob 'the midget' doing 16 or 22 (depending on who was counting) one arm press-ups and chest slaps and I have a photo of him rolling up and attempting to snap a frying pan.
Even fuelled by the beer and food laid on by Jedd you have to bare in mind that all of us have been lifting for about 9 hours! Simply amazing! About 4.30am US time and 9.30am UK time we stagger off to our car where our designated driver John 'Pexter' Massiano drives us the 30 or so minutes back to the hotel.
Sunday/Monday
Oh how great is it to get just 3 or 4 hours sleep. Boy I am doing well. The grand total of hours so far is probably what 10? I normally get 7 hours plus a nap so total 8 a day and here I am on the beginnings of day three with 10 altogether! Anyway I have a real nice chat with the only female competitor, Joanne, in reception while draining them of their orange juice and cereal. Time slowly creeps towards booking out time of 11am and so we manage to wake the last member of our crew, Clay, from the deepest sleep and are BSing in the car park when Jedd Johnson turns up and tells us we've managed to make the local newspaper sports section front page! How cool is that and so like a bunch of oversized school kids we kill 2 birds with one stone and leg it to the local Subway store for a 'sub' and a few copy of the local paper. There we are - again how cool is that. Dan, our mini-van driver, is the guy they chose to use in the feature and blow me if I don't get 2 paragraphs quoted! Sweet!
Anyway Jedd says, as we have time to kill, he still has a ton of food and so we're welcome to come and finish it off. So we gulp down the last of the 'subs' and fill up the car with even more luggage than we brought with us - what with our car being full of prize winners, ahem - so much so that the ass of the car drags on the ramp as we leave - he, he. We arrive at Jedd's and notice, what with it now being daylight, that he has lifting barrels and stones inc, if memory serves, a 290lbs monster.
There's no way I am gonna have a go at the stones but foolishness still gets the better of me and I end up shouldering the 150 lbs barrel. Boy does my arm begin to complain and even as I spoon a big old plateful of the macaroni into my mouth I am feeling the pain. So I feebly ask Jedd is he has any painkillers and soon all the hands are out. Like a drug dealer I am dishing out tablets to all those who had been keeping their aches to themselves.
With a three to four hour drive ahead of us we set off. The rain storms from the night before, mentioned in the paper, have flooded out a ton of places. As we drive along water is running down the sides of cliffs and fields of corn are half submerged. We pass through town after town that could easily be Smallville with one gas station.
I have to say that I wished I hadn't packed my camera because there was more than one spot on the trip where the scenery was outstanding. Proper forests and deep valleys. Real picture postcard stuff. - very nice.
We arrive in good time at Philadelphia airport and haul our no super heavy bags out of the car and it's hugs and handshakes all round for Dan and his wife before they leave. The terminals are lined up with most of the internal flights in the first two and of course mine is way down the other end. The guys are good enough to accompany me as we slowly drop our bags in and we end up sharing a nice meal with Rob 'midget' Vigant doing the honours - cheers Rob. Then more hugs and handshakes before we make our way to our relevant booking in spots.
I use my debit card to call Mick Hart's mobile back in the UK, God only knows what an international 5 minute call to a mobile is going to cost me but I had to know. I catch an as-sore-throated-as-me Chris, who tells me he managed 2nd and it was on condition. As it's 1130pm in the UK, I let him rest while I get set for another long haul back to the UK. With jet stream winds going our way on the trip back instead of the 8 hours outbound we have a little over 6 hours back. Not so bad but I'm still not going to see Blighty before lunchtime.
Other than being woken up to see if my belt is on - Grrr - and some kid wailing for the first 2 hours it's otherwise uneventful and I have the hour or so sitting around at Charles De Gaulle to look forward to. For some unexplained reason we have to wait an extra 20-30 mins before being let on then another 45 minutes for another slot before shooting across the channel arriving, because of the time difference, at the same time as we took off.
I have absolutely no problem with either passport control or customs and so it's the tube back to central line where, as I come out of the station, it's raining - so I am home then!
The aftermath
All that ass kicking work and evil travelling means I have the beginnings of a sort throat on Tuesday and as I finish this opus a stinking cold (Friday). My right forearm especially was uncomfortable for the first few days.
Looking at the sheer number of views and the many, many comments generated by the GGC on the grip board it looks like people liked me making the effort and took my fourth place as an indication of how good I am.
Final thought
Once again I have to offer a special word of thanks for Mick of www.mickhart.com and Mick Hart Training Systems for his help and support in allowing me to make my way to the competition. Without his help I'd still be sitting here twiddling my thumbs - thanks Mick!!
Mikeal of the Grip board has posted up the top 10 and top 20 All time best list for the V bar and blow me (again) if I don't make the 4th place spot!! Yes! Now there's a title with no shame - 4th best of all time!
If you enjoyed reading Steve Gardener's grip experiences in this article, why not read his eBook Grippers - Getting the most from your Gripper?
Click here for the first part of this article.
Picture courtesy of Roger www.atomicathletic.com