I’m going to have a go:
I think that’s about it (I think you could add scoring- about the only standard thing in strongman lol) - everything else passes as strongman.
*although these last man standing events now blow that away.
I’ve actually seen ALL of those things in strongman amazingly, haha. The lack of official rules leave a lot open.
It’s why every rules meeting is like reinventing the wheel.
“Ok guys, farmer’s walks. No, you can’t use tacky. No, you can’t use straps. Yes, you have to wait until we say ‘go’ to pick up the implement.”
I always like to believe that promoters who put no tacky against stuff like farmers, deadlifts, kegs, etc learnt that lesson the hard way!
They had to clarify that if you wore straps for the deadlift, you had to keep the straps on your wrists and actually hold the bar. Some guys were wanting to use figure 8’s, loop onto the bar, then just pull from the extended loop to shorten the ROM.
Brilliant
The trick is to learn how to do this with NON-figure 8 straps. Much harder to detect.
I KNEW your arms couldn’t actually be getting longer every rep on your last deadlift video!
Go go gadget shoulder laxity!
I just skipped 200 some entries on this thread.
I forgot my headphones last session…
… wtf people?? Am I just getting old and grumpy or is it impossible to tolerate modern day conversations? Lol
I ditched headphones at the gym a couple months ago and haven’t looked back. My workouts are more efficient, more focused, and I leave the gym feeling more mentally refreshed.
I swear at times I think some beginners are only asking questions trying to find shorts cuts . In the hope that they can avoid actually putting in work.
This, fer sure!
If you read any of the shit in the pharma section, you see this all the time. “Bro’s, been training three months, gained five pounds, got my bench up to 150 and looking to take it to the next level. Going to do Dbol for four weeks. How much lean mass can I expect to gain?”
Honestly, I’m guilty of it as well. I jump from Dan John’s Mass Made Simple, to SS, to 5/3/1 to P/P/L, all in a week. I bulk, I cut, I try to recomp, all in a month. And I’m in my fifties. Imagine what it’s like for kids that grew up with Smart phones.
Really, that’s the beauty of weight training. It. Takes. Patience. Strength or mass, both take patience. And as Wendler says, it takes getting comfortable being uncomfortable.
The shortcut is picking a good program for your goals, and learning to eat for your goals, and then doing it for an extended period of time.
I did make rapid gains three years ago, but have been pretty much stuck since then - at least in my mind. If I go back and look at my spread sheet of weight and BF%, and at my 1RM, not so stuck. But compared to three months ago, not that much change.
This shit is hard.
Nobody conversates anymore. Just a lot of pointing and grunting. I much prefer it to music and words.
Was this intentional?
Not being a dick, but converses would have worked better. I do like the wordplay, fucking with the language, but was just curious about your intent.
He’s an Irishman, living in Australia. Just be happy you knew what he meant.
Ah I was wondering why it didn’t autocorrect! Lmao
Bingo!
I shit my pants twice last week. My marital status may change soon.
I find many of my Celtic friends to have a much better grasp of the language, and the world, than most of my “friends.”
I had a buddy, Bill, from Edinburgh, but originally Scot, not unlike our resident intellectual @Yogi1 , who was a regular at the bar directly across from my pro shop counter at the illustrious Eaglewood GC.
Eaglewood was a par 28 (better than a par 3, we had one par 4) located between five apartment complexes in Orlando.
Bill showed up every morning for a coffee with a New York Times in his hands, and had himself a shot or two of Jack with his coffee.
Bill was ruddy of complexion, and had the patience and bearing of a man who had traveled.
If you toddled into our little paradise, you would have thought him a drunk, sitting at an apartment bar associated with a par three golf course that was withering away, which it surely was.
If you spoke to Bill, you would have realized the depth and breadth of his knowledge and travel.
He sold chemicals. Not to moms and pops, but to multi nationals, the big fuckers, and he had homes on several different continents. One of them happened to be a two bedroom apartment in our little ghetto community in Orlando.
If you took the time to have a cup of coffee with him, you would realize that you were truly in the presence of greatness.
And he would say shit like conversate, rather than converse.
And I was blessed to be the golf pro at that little neighborhood ghetto golf course.
She should be happy they weren’t hers!