I am a freak of super size and strength. I wasn't just another kid who lifted weights in his parent's basement. People always ask me when I realized that I was "different". . . and I can narrow it down to one bench press contest at a local gym. It was in that Niagara Falls weight pit that a story was forged that has almost become the stuff of urban legends and folklore.
At the time, I was only 18 years of age and had been training for a good year and a half. I grew up on my parent's farm and all my training had been done in the basement of my home. My parents were always supportive of me and had nurtured my potential by buying me all the heavy duty weight equipment I needed to get big and strong. I had a flat bench, incline bench, squat rack, hack squat machine, dip bars, iron plates, up to 200 lbs. dumbbells (a friend welded them for me), etc. I had all the basics that a growing farm boy could possibly need to train like an animal. I had never really worked out at a public gym
and I had nobody to compare my strength to. I would literally spend hours down there in that basement. It was dark and dingy, but it was my own gym. It was where I began building the hulking figure that would eventually become known as the Canadian Colossus. To this day, I can still remember my mother shouting down to me to "stop already!" I loved it so much that I would train until I heard her voice bellowing "Gregory!" When I heard her call me by my full name, that became my cut-off point for the day. I never messed with mom. My father would always say "At least he's getting his money's worth and more." I'll always be grateful for the opportunity and support they showed me.
Eventually, fate reared its head and a friend told me about a bench press contest that was being held in town that I should enter. I didn't feel that I was strong enough to enter an official bench press competition. I just lifted as heavy as I could and loved every minute of it. I did agree to go watch the contest though. I was interested to see what it was all about. When we arrived at the gym it was an awkward experience for me. I was a 300 pound farm kid and I was very shy, nervous, and introverted. Everyone at the gym was staring at me and it made me a bit uncomfortable. Eventually, as the contest started, they all backed off a bit and focused on the competition.
I vividly remember witnessing the first few lifts. I was shocked to see that they were only performing one repetition. I had never done just one repetition; I didn't get it. My friend had to explain to me that, in this competition, they were trying to see who could lift the most for one rep. The second instance that really sticks out in my mind was that these guys were lifting very light weights. When I was in my home, I never added up what I was lifting on the bar. For me, instead of 455 lbs. on the bar, I would say "4 big plates and 1 little plate on each side." I only had 45 lb and 25 lb plates at home so I just counted plates. After that day, I started counting a little differently.
I was totally surprised that the top lift of the day was only 430 lbs, and it was only one rep! As the lift was locked out, the crowd went nuts. On completion of the lift, the winner stood up and bellowed at the top of his lungs like the king of the jungle. A crowd gathered around him to celebrate his victory. He was very cocky and bragging that no one could bench more than him. After a few minutes had passed and the group followed the winner away from the bench press, I noticed that no one had emptied the bar. The winning one rep max was still there. My friend jokingly mentioned that I should go and rep out with it. Curiously, I went and counted the weight. In Kovacs weight, there were only 4 big plates and one really little plate on each side.
I remember, I was wearing a plaid farmer shirt with jeans that day. I sauntered over to the bench, plopped down under the weight, grabbed the bar and unracked the bar. I let the weight settle on my frame, then slowly pressed the weight. I'm talking very slowly at first and then sped it up a bit. I crushed 18 repetitions with virtually no effort. I racked the weight and sat up smiling at my friend not realizing that by about my 6th rep everyone in the gym had gathered around. The gym was completely silent other than a few gasps of disbelief. No one said a word. No one moved a muscle. I stood up, took my coat from my friend and just walked out of the gym. My friend was 140lb if he had bricks in his pockets.; and he stuck his chest out, proudly, as we left.
To this day, I still get people asking me about that competition. I have to admit, it was a life-changing experience. I was an introverted farm kid and, on that day, I realized that I might just have a gift. Iron is something I love and have always had a passion for. I meant no disrespect to the athlete that won the contest on that day. I just loved moving weight and seeing the loaded bar. If my friend hadn't jokingly coaxed me into it, I would have never done it. His wisecrack pushed me to attempt the lift, and I just did it. I'm sure I ruined the winner's thunder that day. Had I entered the contest, he would have lost anyways. After that event, I rushed straight home with my friend to see how much I could bench at once. In Kovac's weight, I pushed 6 big plates on each side for 3 reps. One rep just didn't feel right. Three always felt better.
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