INTRO
To those of you looking to maximize strength and ability over the long haul, maybe reading on can offer some help. To those lifting for joy and recreation, maybe this can give you a window into the journey of attaining world-class strength — which might, in turn, persuade or dissuade you from doubling down.
There’s a lot of zoomed-in perspective in the strength and bodybuilding industry: “Get a bulging chest in 30 days!” or “Increase your bench by 50 lbs in three months!” A lot of these programs and articles are baseless. Some may even have merit, but nearly all of them focus on the short term — an alluring siren to our short attention spans and unwillingness to commit for the long haul.
What’s rarely talked about is what happens when you zoom out. What does a career look like season after season? What does progress look like over years? Over decades? Through obstacles and setbacks?
The human body and mind are among the most complex structures in the universe we know of. So by no means would I consider myself an expert who knows the best and most ideal path toward maximal strength. Nor do I believe anyone does. It’s not rocket science — its, uh, well… it’s far more complex than that.
What I can offer is a synopsis of my own journey: the mindset, strategies, and pivots that carried me through my career and eventually led to my top wins.
THE BEGINNING
My fascination with strength and muscle began when I was nine years old, training with my dad. We started with the simplest calisthenics: push-ups, assisted pull-ups, lunges, and planks. That was it. For half a year, that’s all I knew.
It was simple, but it taught me the basics of pulling, pushing, pressing with my legs, and bracing. We followed the “grease the groove” method popularized by Pavel Tsatsouline. Like with learning any skill, this approach prioritized frequency — practicing often, even with low intensity — which was ideal for a lanky kid like me trying to build coordination and a mind-body connection. It also reduced the chance of injury as I learned to control my body.
After half a year of monotonous, repetitive, inglorious work, once I had some basic control, we moved into the weight room to work on hypertrophy. Strength and power wouldn’t be the focus for another five years. The idea was straightforward: a bigger muscle isn’t necessarily stronger, but it raises the ceiling for strength potential. Knowing strength would one day be my pursuit, my dad set me on a path through bodybuilding.
For the first year, I lifted exclusively in high repetition ranges — never below 12 reps — to continue building tendon integrity and reinforce control. Progress was slow and frustrating. “Papa, when will I see my muscles grow?” I’d ask. That’s when I learned patience: that real growth is measured in millimeters over years, not weeks.
Many times I wanted to quit. Many times I wanted to just play video games instead. But my dad kept urging me toward consistency — not crushing intensity, but steady, intentional work with baby-step improvements. That lesson is still burned into me today. (Plus video games as a post-workout reward and excellent recovery method. ;)
From there, every year became a carefully structured macrocycle made of mesocycles, gradually transitioning from high-rep work to heavier pyramids, barely grazing power training. By the time I was 15, I was stronger than any adult in my school, despite training “just” as a bodybuilder.
THE STEADY BUILD
From then on, my trajectory accelerated. The work capacity I built from bodybuilding and high-rep training gave me the recovery and stamina to handle longer, heavier sessions. Puberty certainly helped, too.
I experimented with different systems: simple 5x5 programs, wave cycles brushing up against 90% of my max, eccentric overloads, isometrics, Olympic lifts. And it worked — for nearly a decade.
Injuries did happen — tendonitis, nagging aches — but never catastrophic ones. My ingrained acceptance of the “slow burn” meant I was quick to step back, find the weakness, and shore it up, even if it meant sacrificing short-term strength. That long-view patience kept me moving forward.
STRONGMAN CAREER
By 25, I was applying the same principles to strongman competition. I knew I could only truly peak once or twice a year, so I saved those peaks for the shows that mattered most — the ones that could get me into World’s Strongest Man and the Arnold Classic. Other shows became practice.
Fast-forward another decade: I’m weeks away from turning 35. My training has shifted again to account for much higher strength levels — and an older body. I can’t get away with the same high-volume training. Percentages don’t tell the whole story anymore; 70–80% of a deadlift max today isn’t a casual workout. It’s a serious demand on my body.
These days, I cycle intensity more often, progressing through a month the way I once did through a year. I start with work capacity, finish with heavy lifts, and reset with new variations to hit weak points.
And that’s the point I want to leave you with: your training will never stop evolving. It will change with the strength you gain, the setbacks you face, and the years you accumulate. There is never going to be a cookie-cutter program perfect for you, but you can always pick pieces from what others are doing and apply them to your journey in a way that works for your body and where you’re at. If you’re in it for the long game, you’ll learn to adapt, to zoom out, and to embrace the slow, steady climb.
Stay consistent.
Be strategic about what strengths to push forward little by little.
Time your intensity appropriately and pull back as needed, but never stop.
