Post by Steve Gardener on Aug 21, 2008 12:09:38 GMT
It doesn't matter how often I travel it never feels any better. Forgive my old bones if I moan a little about that portion...
Sam Solomi (from Devon) arrived at 11pm or so and dumb ass that I am I managed to leave my house unlocked the whole time I was away!! A buddy of his, 'Polish' Mark drove us, at some expense, from Gloucester to Stanstead in Essex which took about 3 hours. We arrived at 2am and found the place covered with other crazy nut jobs trying to find a bench to sleep on before their equally as early as ours flights. I can't say we slept, cos that's not right, but I managed to zone out a little and together we made the booking in time well enough (unlike my missing it completely in 2005 and having to buy another ticket). The only hiccup was my boots setting off the bells during the security search (as they did coming back).
The flight was uneventful and we were met, after processing, by a slightly older version of the Flo (Florian Kellersman) I remembered previously. No doubt it was an older version of the Mobster than he saw last ha ha. Off down the autobahn I was almost disappointed that we didn't get to drive flat out but still Sam and I arrived safely at Flo's house in the suburbs. We asked 'is this a nice area? and he said 'not so good'. Man it looked great to us both which, as Sam and I agreed, doesn't say too much about where we life ha ha.
Sam and I, a long journey under our belts, were half asleep when the referee and co-organizer of the event, Burkhard Macht, turned up along with another competitor, Martin Ressel and we took a look at Flo's gym dungeon underneath the house. The space below is divided off into storage areas and as small and low as it was it was chock-a-block with weights and grip goodies. We all enjoyed a Greek meal at an in town restaurant as well stopping at a local supermarket to stock up on energy bars, caffeine drinks, fruit and so on. As good as some promoters and their facilities are I’ve learnt to ensure I am, at least, well prepared.
Back to Flo’s for a chat and then Sam and I were on crash and burn and got our heads down to ensure we were as rested as we can be by turning in at 1030pm. Sam later commented that he has not slept as much as he did this weekend (8 solid hours before the Euros and close to 12+ at mine). I’d like to be able to say the same…
The day of the event and we were well rested, a good hot shower and a very nice healthy German breakfast courtesy of Flo’s attractive partner (bread, jam, coffee, tea, eggs, meat… it was all good!) and then more Burkie and Martin and all of us making kick ass noises. We drove back into town with Sam and I thinking ‘this isn’t far’ before we realised we had another car load of grip buds to collect from a hotel! Then it was a three car convoy back up the autobahn to Hermann Kortes ‘Choice of Champions’ Gym in Haltern am See. Some more familiar faces were arriving as we turned up and we all got to see what a great powerlifters gym Hermann runs.
It really is an ideal place to become a top level powerlifter – see the photos. From a box squat set up, through two power racks and a bunch of bars through to what looks like the worlds heaviest duty back extension bench. We had the pleasure of using their lifting platform. We did the usual glad handing of new and old friends and then Hermann got proceedings under way at about the appointed kick off time of 1pm.
Grippers
Having immediately got a couple of safe ‘lifts’, or perhaps I should say crushes, under my belt I can’t now recall if it was about this time that I took my stab at the 3.5 certification attempt. Regardless of the order Hermann did the opening on camera, I put the card in myself and I missed it by 1.5mm Getting the handles just about open enough for the card was a little harder than I would have liked and the gripper felt a tad harder than the odd 1 or 2 I’ve tried thus far but it was what it was.
Photo of my 3.5 effort (Matti photo)
I think I missed at least 1 attempt with either hand on harder grippers and would have liked the 3.81 but like the earlier CCS set with the 3.5 a closer set did not quite touch. Sam Solomi has commented elsewhere that more Beefbuilder Elite or better grippers were closed here than before and even as well as I did, although a little off my best, still had me down in 4th or maybe even 5th place in this event. However, as I was telling Sam at one point during the afternoon it does one no good to let one cock-up mean too much so onwards it was.
2 hand pinch
Sam snorting ammonia in preparation for the 2 hand pinch
I opted for a 48mm width which was a good idea in the circumstances. The Euro set belonged to Burkhard and like many of the European athletes he uses a wide width. Plus ONLY he uses it. This meant it 1) had not taken a lot of chalk and 2) only had chalk along the top most area. With my usual thin setting and bigger hands the finger tips slipped before stopping on the grippier area.
Thus even though I’d done 102+ kilos in training and had a PB of a little under 106 (105.58) and had done 12 singles with 97-kilos in my last session 95-kilos got me a 1st place in this event.
I won this but… it was close enough that Hermann announced only a 4% spread. That meant I’d lost a fair old few points on the first round and although I won this it wasn’t by that big of a margin. I think I might have actually been second at this point but was confident of what was to come.
Double overhand Axle deadlift
Photo of my winning 170-kilo effort.
If, as per my log, some had seen me training this lift just 3 months ago you’ll have found it hard to believe I won. I might even suggest it was from this point onwards that the whole competition was mine.
Yet, as above, 3 months or so ago I recall coming up erect with a mere 135-kilos and seeing reflected back at me my upper body bent sideways in some strange looking banana like shape. That’s how bad my lower back was and can be. Matti, from Finland and Johan from Sweden were on a par, indeed Matti looked in agony many times through the whole day. For some very strange reason I have yet to fathom the only time I was without any real pain was on the platform.
Like all the events we were allowed warm ups before the start (during at British shows) and using an Ironmind Apollon’s Axle (15-kilos empty) I had no problems with 20-kilos a side nor 40-kilos. Indeed, if my old brain works, nor with something like 120-kilos so I was happy to open with some similar providing I kept warm. I made sure to stretch before the kick off and between each event (sometimes during). Both during this and the final lift of the Rolling Thunder I walked outside for fresh air and to get my head right keeping half an ear open so I’d know what weights were being called.
Before I left for Germany I’d written 100, 130, 150 and 170/180. On the day I think I went 125 (?), 135 155 and took a chance on 170. Immediately afterwards and as per I thought ‘that felt ok I wished I’d taken a shot at 180-kilos. I think 150-155 was the next best lift and so I had the wide margin I needed to start moving ahead of the rest.
One hand deadlift
From my notes: L/H: 110, 115, 120 (failed) and 120 (success). With the direction of the ref I moved my hands a tad forward. As it was a rising bar, except when some of the guys failed to understand (with 5 languages hardly surprising) the adjustment was made first with the left and then for all of my right hand efforts. Here I went 110, 120, 127.5 and ended with a 135-kilos effort. Again a decent enough margin to keep me in front but one should never slack off in case of stupid errors or some other mishap. So onwards to the last event.
Thumbless Rolling Thunder
Sam and, so it seems, most of the other lads knew this was mine. Waiting for the bar to get to my opening left hand weight, never mind the right, it seems they were correct. I’d stopped trying to see what others might do as I had needed to do in earlier lifts being confident I’d do well enough to get the top spot overall.
That still does not mean I didn’t put much into it. I did the same focusing I’d done in training and all day. I might have a laugh and joke even with the ref, turn my head away and when it came back I was ready to go. I even found myself biting down on my small hand towel and growling away to get the old juices going.
Again without checking I’m fairly sure my opening weights were close to pretty much everyone else’s final attempts with the majority of the guys on their 3rd attempts as I opened up. When in the axle I’d pulled as much as anyone else with my 3rd and still had a lift to go I’d asked Hermann, have I won and got the nod. Then asked for the next weight so it was here. I didn’t know what the points spread was nor did I care. It was ‘all guns blazing’ to ensure a proper secure victory.
Left: 80, 85, 90 and 95-kilos (not inc apparatus) meant my overtraining and slowly depreciating numbers as I go more tired were as nothing. Right: 80, 90, 100 and a silly attempt at 110-kilos which did not budge at all meant, apparatus included, I hit my intended 200-kilos combined total.
Placings
In what I thought was a great touch after we’d had the medals and trophies handed out Hermann went into his office and came back with an ice-cold bottle of very nice and extremely welcome German beer. If I hadn’t been shaking hands and having photos taken I think I could quite possibly have necked that baby in one.
Me with the first place trophy
1. Steve Gardener
2. Gabriel Sum (just 21 and very good overall – one to watch)
3. Martin Ressel
4. Sam Solomi (won the only other event I didn’t win and in doing so set a British record)
5. Florian Kellersmann
6. Johan Albrektsson
7. Matti Heiskanen (his biceps, Viking flair and determination in spite of a bad back made him a choice for man of the match)
8. Stefan Falke
9. Jose Jara
10. Jorge González
After party and back home
As is the norm with any decent event we made our way to somewhere where we could eat meat. Having enjoyed a very nice piece of rump steak in the week before the competition I opted for the same on arriving at a Bavarian looking version of a Toby Carvery. Very nice it was too. Aided by several lush pints (litres??) of beer on my part and, I’m sure, similar amounts on theirs we ended up engaging in what can only be described as a ‘cup wrestle’. The pot in which the knives, forks and serviettes arrived in was about 4 or so inches across and had holes in it’s chromed surface. Each of us took turns trying to wrestle it out of another ones hand. Other than my first go in which Martin took me down I did not lose all evening. Indeed I was so good (ha ha) I carried on talking and drinking and would then drag the other guy over the table before popping it from their grasp – sweet. Even a smaller implement (a salt pot) was no problem for me. I beat Sam using just my index finger and thumb to his two fingers and a thumb. Easy bro ha ha.
Me nonchalantly kicking Jorge's ass on the pot wrestle ha ha
Back home… we stopped off at Flo’s for another beer and then arrived at the station at 1.30am which took us to the airport for 2.00am. Joy of joys we had to wait until 3.45am for the sky train (monorail) to take us to the actual airport. Sitting, half sleeping and a little eating got us onto our 6.30am flight. Then we had more fun with National Express from about 10am or so to around 1.30pm. A long, long day or two.
Enjoying a cold one post competition with Sam and Matti
But my trophy, nice n plastic though it is, sits proudly on my sideboard with ‘Champion’ upon it. Now rested and well fed it seems worth the effort.
NB: a special word of thanks to all those who helped me do what I needed to do – couldn’t have done it without you guys.
Sam Solomi (from Devon) arrived at 11pm or so and dumb ass that I am I managed to leave my house unlocked the whole time I was away!! A buddy of his, 'Polish' Mark drove us, at some expense, from Gloucester to Stanstead in Essex which took about 3 hours. We arrived at 2am and found the place covered with other crazy nut jobs trying to find a bench to sleep on before their equally as early as ours flights. I can't say we slept, cos that's not right, but I managed to zone out a little and together we made the booking in time well enough (unlike my missing it completely in 2005 and having to buy another ticket). The only hiccup was my boots setting off the bells during the security search (as they did coming back).
The flight was uneventful and we were met, after processing, by a slightly older version of the Flo (Florian Kellersman) I remembered previously. No doubt it was an older version of the Mobster than he saw last ha ha. Off down the autobahn I was almost disappointed that we didn't get to drive flat out but still Sam and I arrived safely at Flo's house in the suburbs. We asked 'is this a nice area? and he said 'not so good'. Man it looked great to us both which, as Sam and I agreed, doesn't say too much about where we life ha ha.
Sam and I, a long journey under our belts, were half asleep when the referee and co-organizer of the event, Burkhard Macht, turned up along with another competitor, Martin Ressel and we took a look at Flo's gym dungeon underneath the house. The space below is divided off into storage areas and as small and low as it was it was chock-a-block with weights and grip goodies. We all enjoyed a Greek meal at an in town restaurant as well stopping at a local supermarket to stock up on energy bars, caffeine drinks, fruit and so on. As good as some promoters and their facilities are I’ve learnt to ensure I am, at least, well prepared.
Back to Flo’s for a chat and then Sam and I were on crash and burn and got our heads down to ensure we were as rested as we can be by turning in at 1030pm. Sam later commented that he has not slept as much as he did this weekend (8 solid hours before the Euros and close to 12+ at mine). I’d like to be able to say the same…
The day of the event and we were well rested, a good hot shower and a very nice healthy German breakfast courtesy of Flo’s attractive partner (bread, jam, coffee, tea, eggs, meat… it was all good!) and then more Burkie and Martin and all of us making kick ass noises. We drove back into town with Sam and I thinking ‘this isn’t far’ before we realised we had another car load of grip buds to collect from a hotel! Then it was a three car convoy back up the autobahn to Hermann Kortes ‘Choice of Champions’ Gym in Haltern am See. Some more familiar faces were arriving as we turned up and we all got to see what a great powerlifters gym Hermann runs.
It really is an ideal place to become a top level powerlifter – see the photos. From a box squat set up, through two power racks and a bunch of bars through to what looks like the worlds heaviest duty back extension bench. We had the pleasure of using their lifting platform. We did the usual glad handing of new and old friends and then Hermann got proceedings under way at about the appointed kick off time of 1pm.
Grippers
Having immediately got a couple of safe ‘lifts’, or perhaps I should say crushes, under my belt I can’t now recall if it was about this time that I took my stab at the 3.5 certification attempt. Regardless of the order Hermann did the opening on camera, I put the card in myself and I missed it by 1.5mm Getting the handles just about open enough for the card was a little harder than I would have liked and the gripper felt a tad harder than the odd 1 or 2 I’ve tried thus far but it was what it was.
Photo of my 3.5 effort (Matti photo)
I think I missed at least 1 attempt with either hand on harder grippers and would have liked the 3.81 but like the earlier CCS set with the 3.5 a closer set did not quite touch. Sam Solomi has commented elsewhere that more Beefbuilder Elite or better grippers were closed here than before and even as well as I did, although a little off my best, still had me down in 4th or maybe even 5th place in this event. However, as I was telling Sam at one point during the afternoon it does one no good to let one cock-up mean too much so onwards it was.
2 hand pinch
Sam snorting ammonia in preparation for the 2 hand pinch
I opted for a 48mm width which was a good idea in the circumstances. The Euro set belonged to Burkhard and like many of the European athletes he uses a wide width. Plus ONLY he uses it. This meant it 1) had not taken a lot of chalk and 2) only had chalk along the top most area. With my usual thin setting and bigger hands the finger tips slipped before stopping on the grippier area.
Thus even though I’d done 102+ kilos in training and had a PB of a little under 106 (105.58) and had done 12 singles with 97-kilos in my last session 95-kilos got me a 1st place in this event.
I won this but… it was close enough that Hermann announced only a 4% spread. That meant I’d lost a fair old few points on the first round and although I won this it wasn’t by that big of a margin. I think I might have actually been second at this point but was confident of what was to come.
Double overhand Axle deadlift
Photo of my winning 170-kilo effort.
If, as per my log, some had seen me training this lift just 3 months ago you’ll have found it hard to believe I won. I might even suggest it was from this point onwards that the whole competition was mine.
Yet, as above, 3 months or so ago I recall coming up erect with a mere 135-kilos and seeing reflected back at me my upper body bent sideways in some strange looking banana like shape. That’s how bad my lower back was and can be. Matti, from Finland and Johan from Sweden were on a par, indeed Matti looked in agony many times through the whole day. For some very strange reason I have yet to fathom the only time I was without any real pain was on the platform.
Like all the events we were allowed warm ups before the start (during at British shows) and using an Ironmind Apollon’s Axle (15-kilos empty) I had no problems with 20-kilos a side nor 40-kilos. Indeed, if my old brain works, nor with something like 120-kilos so I was happy to open with some similar providing I kept warm. I made sure to stretch before the kick off and between each event (sometimes during). Both during this and the final lift of the Rolling Thunder I walked outside for fresh air and to get my head right keeping half an ear open so I’d know what weights were being called.
Before I left for Germany I’d written 100, 130, 150 and 170/180. On the day I think I went 125 (?), 135 155 and took a chance on 170. Immediately afterwards and as per I thought ‘that felt ok I wished I’d taken a shot at 180-kilos. I think 150-155 was the next best lift and so I had the wide margin I needed to start moving ahead of the rest.
One hand deadlift
From my notes: L/H: 110, 115, 120 (failed) and 120 (success). With the direction of the ref I moved my hands a tad forward. As it was a rising bar, except when some of the guys failed to understand (with 5 languages hardly surprising) the adjustment was made first with the left and then for all of my right hand efforts. Here I went 110, 120, 127.5 and ended with a 135-kilos effort. Again a decent enough margin to keep me in front but one should never slack off in case of stupid errors or some other mishap. So onwards to the last event.
Thumbless Rolling Thunder
Sam and, so it seems, most of the other lads knew this was mine. Waiting for the bar to get to my opening left hand weight, never mind the right, it seems they were correct. I’d stopped trying to see what others might do as I had needed to do in earlier lifts being confident I’d do well enough to get the top spot overall.
That still does not mean I didn’t put much into it. I did the same focusing I’d done in training and all day. I might have a laugh and joke even with the ref, turn my head away and when it came back I was ready to go. I even found myself biting down on my small hand towel and growling away to get the old juices going.
Again without checking I’m fairly sure my opening weights were close to pretty much everyone else’s final attempts with the majority of the guys on their 3rd attempts as I opened up. When in the axle I’d pulled as much as anyone else with my 3rd and still had a lift to go I’d asked Hermann, have I won and got the nod. Then asked for the next weight so it was here. I didn’t know what the points spread was nor did I care. It was ‘all guns blazing’ to ensure a proper secure victory.
Left: 80, 85, 90 and 95-kilos (not inc apparatus) meant my overtraining and slowly depreciating numbers as I go more tired were as nothing. Right: 80, 90, 100 and a silly attempt at 110-kilos which did not budge at all meant, apparatus included, I hit my intended 200-kilos combined total.
Placings
In what I thought was a great touch after we’d had the medals and trophies handed out Hermann went into his office and came back with an ice-cold bottle of very nice and extremely welcome German beer. If I hadn’t been shaking hands and having photos taken I think I could quite possibly have necked that baby in one.
Me with the first place trophy
1. Steve Gardener
2. Gabriel Sum (just 21 and very good overall – one to watch)
3. Martin Ressel
4. Sam Solomi (won the only other event I didn’t win and in doing so set a British record)
5. Florian Kellersmann
6. Johan Albrektsson
7. Matti Heiskanen (his biceps, Viking flair and determination in spite of a bad back made him a choice for man of the match)
8. Stefan Falke
9. Jose Jara
10. Jorge González
After party and back home
As is the norm with any decent event we made our way to somewhere where we could eat meat. Having enjoyed a very nice piece of rump steak in the week before the competition I opted for the same on arriving at a Bavarian looking version of a Toby Carvery. Very nice it was too. Aided by several lush pints (litres??) of beer on my part and, I’m sure, similar amounts on theirs we ended up engaging in what can only be described as a ‘cup wrestle’. The pot in which the knives, forks and serviettes arrived in was about 4 or so inches across and had holes in it’s chromed surface. Each of us took turns trying to wrestle it out of another ones hand. Other than my first go in which Martin took me down I did not lose all evening. Indeed I was so good (ha ha) I carried on talking and drinking and would then drag the other guy over the table before popping it from their grasp – sweet. Even a smaller implement (a salt pot) was no problem for me. I beat Sam using just my index finger and thumb to his two fingers and a thumb. Easy bro ha ha.
Me nonchalantly kicking Jorge's ass on the pot wrestle ha ha
Back home… we stopped off at Flo’s for another beer and then arrived at the station at 1.30am which took us to the airport for 2.00am. Joy of joys we had to wait until 3.45am for the sky train (monorail) to take us to the actual airport. Sitting, half sleeping and a little eating got us onto our 6.30am flight. Then we had more fun with National Express from about 10am or so to around 1.30pm. A long, long day or two.
Enjoying a cold one post competition with Sam and Matti
But my trophy, nice n plastic though it is, sits proudly on my sideboard with ‘Champion’ upon it. Now rested and well fed it seems worth the effort.
NB: a special word of thanks to all those who helped me do what I needed to do – couldn’t have done it without you guys.
