Why I Bombed My First Strongman Contest (And You Should Too)

Picture this: Me, standing in a parking lot at 6 AM, staring at a 400-pound Atlas stone like it personally insulted my mother. Three attempts. Three epic failures. The crowd of maybe twelve people (including my disappointed girlfriend) watching me basically become a human pinball bouncing off this concrete ball.

That was my first strongman competition. I trained for eight months, spent probably $600 on gear, and walked away with a participation certificate and a bruised ego the size of Texas.

Best thing that ever happened to my training.

The Problem With Playing It Safe

Here's what nobody tells you about strongman training - and honestly, what most "experts" get completely backwards. Everyone's so focused on avoiding mistakes that they end up making the biggest mistake of all: not making any mistakes at all.

I see it every damn day at my gym. Guys who've been "getting ready" for their first competition for literally years. Still waiting for that magical moment when they're "strong enough" or "ready enough" or whatever enough to actually compete.

Meanwhile, they're training like they're prepping for the World's Strongest Man when they can barely deadlift 315.

Mistake #1: The "I'm Not Ready" Trap

Let me tell you about my buddy Jake. Dude's been "almost ready" for a strongman comp for three years now. THREE YEARS. His deadlift went from 365 to 455 in that time, which is solid progress, don't get me wrong. But he's still sitting on the sidelines because "the other guys look so much stronger."

You know what Jake's missing? The fact that every local strongman competition has weight classes and novice divisions specifically designed for people like him. And me. And probably you.

When I finally signed up for that first competition - the one where I embarrassed myself with the Atlas stone - I was deadlifting maybe 425 on a good day. My log press was a pathetic 185. But I signed up anyway because I got tired of making excuses.

Here's the reality check: If you can overhead press your bodyweight and deadlift twice your bodyweight, you're ready for a novice competition. Period. Stop overthinking it.

The beauty of bombing spectacularly? It shows you exactly where you actually stand, not where you think you stand. That Atlas stone humbled me real quick, but it also gave me a crystal-clear goal to work toward.

Mistake #2: Treating Every Training Session Like a Max-Out Session

Oh man, this one hits close to home. For my first six months of strongman training, I treated every session like I was competing for a million dollars. Max yoke walk. Max log press. Max everything, every single time.

You know what happened? I got weaker.

Seriously. My numbers actually went down because I was constantly beating the crap out of my central nervous system. It's like trying to sprint a marathon - sounds hardcore, but it's actually just stupid.

I learned this lesson the hard way when I tweaked my back attempting a max deadlift after already maxing out my log press and farmer's walks in the same session. Couldn't train for three weeks. Real smart, Tank.

The fix? Train strongman events like you'd train any other lift. You wouldn't max out your bench press every session, so why max out your Atlas stones every time you touch them?

Here's what actually works:

• Pick one event to push heavy each session
• Keep the other events at 70-85% effort
• Save the real maxes for competition or testing days
• Focus on technique and speed with lighter weights

I started making real progress when I stopped trying to PR every damn exercise every damn day. Revolutionary concept, I know.

Mistake #3: Skipping the "Boring" Foundation Work

This is where I'm gonna lose some of you strongman purists, but hear me out.

All those Instagram videos of dudes flipping tires and carrying refrigerators? That's not where you build your strength foundation. That's the fun stuff you get to do AFTER you've built a foundation.

I spent my first year chasing circus lifts while my squat stayed embarrassingly weak. My overhead press looked cool with the log, but I couldn't strict press a regular barbell to save my life. I was all show, no go.

The uncomfortable truth: You need to get strong at the basic lifts first. Squat, deadlift, overhead press, and rows. Build that base for 6-12 months before you worry about whether you can carry a car.

My squat jumped from 315 to 425 when I stopped screwing around with yoke walks every session and actually followed a real squat program. Boring? Maybe. Effective? Absolutely.

Mistake #4: Training Like Your Life Depends On It (When It Doesn't)

Here's the thing that took me way too long to figure out - most of us aren't trying to win World's Strongest Man. We're just regular people who want to get strong and have some fun doing it.

But somewhere along the way, we start training like we're professional athletes. Every session becomes life or death. Every missed rep becomes a personal failure. Every plateau becomes a crisis.

I've watched guys burn out and quit strongman entirely because they put too much pressure on themselves too early. They turn what should be a fun, challenging hobby into a stress-inducing nightmare.

My advice? Chill out a bit. Seriously.

Missing a training day won't kill you. Having a bad competition won't end your strongman career. Not hitting a PR for a few months doesn't mean you're weak or washed up.

The strongest guys I know - and I mean the guys who are actually competitive at national levels - are usually the most laid-back about their training. They show up, do the work, and go home. No drama, no social media meltdowns, no overthinking every decision.

What Actually Works (Lessons from the Trenches)

After five years of strongman training and more mistakes than I care to count, here's what I wish someone had told me on day one:

Start with a competition date, not a strength goal. Find a novice comp 12-16 weeks out and sign up. Today. Right now. The urgency will focus your training better than any motivational video ever could.

Train events 2-3 times per week max. Spend the rest of your time getting stronger at basic movements. Your squat and deadlift numbers will carry you further than your ability to flip a tire.

Embrace the suck early and often. That first competition where you bomb? Good. Learn from it. The second one where you place dead last? Also good. Learn from that too. Every embarrassing moment is data you can use to get better.

Join the community. Strongman people are weird in the best possible way. They'll help you train, lend you equipment, and cheer for you even when you're bombing. Don't try to figure this stuff out alone.

Track your training like your taxes. Write down what works, what doesn't, and how you feel. The patterns will surprise you. I discovered my best pressing sessions happened on days when I did light deadlifts, not heavy ones. Couldn't have figured that out without tracking.

The Real Secret Nobody Talks About

You want to know the real secret to strongman success? It's not about being the strongest person in the room. It's about being the person who shows up consistently, learns from their mistakes, and doesn't let their ego write checks their body can't cash.

I'll never be World's Strongest Man. Hell, I'll probably never even win a state championship. But I'm stronger at 35 than I was at 25, I have a community of people who've become genuine friends, and I've learned more about myself through strongman training than any other sport I've tried.

That first competition where I embarrassed myself? I went back six months later and loaded that same Atlas stone. Still wasn't pretty, but I got it. The feeling of redemption was worth every bit of the initial humiliation.

Your Move

So here's my challenge to you: Stop waiting. Stop making excuses. Stop trying to be perfect.

Find a competition within driving distance and sign up. Train consistently for 12 weeks. Show up, do your best, and learn something. Whether you win, lose, or embarrass yourself doesn't matter nearly as much as just doing it.

And when you inevitably make mistakes - because you will - remember that every strong person you admire has a story about the time they bombed spectacularly. The difference between strong people and everyone else isn't that they don't fail. It's that they fail forward.

Now quit reading strongman articles and go move some heavy stuff around. Your future self will thank you.

What's the scariest thing about competing for you? Drop a comment and let's talk about it. Chances are, whatever's holding you back is holding back ten other people too.