The most I had ever attempted on a trap bar carry was 555lbs around April of 2018. I did it with straps and I took it for about 15yds. To kick off 2020, in my first session with the frame I did 525lbs for 20yds, no straps. Then in the sessions that followed I did 535lbs and 545lbs, again with no straps, both for 15yds. These sets were solid and I could tell from these carries alone that I'm stronger now than I was when I did the 555 in 2018. So the following week I decided I was going to add the straps in and go for something big. The frame itself weighs 85lbs so I figured the simplest attempt to go for was 605lbs - that's five 45lbs plates per side, along with a single 35 pounder on each end, plus the weight of the frame itself (45 x 10 + (35x2) + 85 = 605lbs).

My attempts during this session were as follows:

Now, combine these 3 factors together and you get the dramatic failure that occurred here. I learned from my mistakes though, and I rectified them immediately:

• I switched to a pair of standard straps that I know how to use properly and that don't handcuff you to the barbell.

• I picked the bar up in a symmetrical fashion so that I could maintain a full grip on it and keep it in a perfectly balanced position. 

• I had no intention of attempting to hold onto a weight that was slipping from my grasp. I vowed that if that were to occur again I would simply set the frame down in a controlled fashion, reset my grip, and try again.

• I also did a quick test pick up prior to the successful set where I simply picked the weight up, stabilized it, and held it there for a few seconds to make sure that I could maintain that balance and control, and made sure that all these variables were adjusted for properly beforehand.

During the actual set I also took great care to walk in a slow (a good bit slower than I usually do with these heavy carries) and controlled fashion during the carry to make absolutely certain that I would not be thrown off balance again. Maybe I wouldn't be able to walk as far with the weight since I was moving so slow, but I figured that was an acceptable trade off at this point. The result of these adjustments was a successful and convincing carry with 605lbs for a total distance of 15yds and a really big PR for me.

So I made some logical adjustments and I came back and crushed it. Was that perseverance or stupidity? Was I overly aggressive or did I balance that with an appropriate amount of caution? Or did I completely throw the caution to the wind!? I think the answer to a lot of these questions is in the eye of the beholder. For me, I came in too strong. I was overly aggressive and overly confident and that led to ego and stubbornness taking a strong root, which led to carelessness, which led to a pretty bad mistake that I was very lucky to get away from pretty much unscathed.

Balancing Aggression With Caution

I've thrown caution to the wind many times in my life, honestly, more times than I am proud to admit. To escape without harm, have I been lucky? Have I been good? Who the hell knows, but eventually it's not going to matter how lucky you are or how good you are. If you keep rolling the dice on unnecessary risks eventually you are going to get bitten in the ass. It's simply a rule of probabilities. As I mentioned in my video on the incident, there are obviously inherent risks involved with lifting heavy weights and trying to get as strong as humanly possible. It's just a part of the game we have chosen to play and we are simply acknowledging and accepting those risks every time we step under the bar. For me, this incident serves not only as an important reminder of the existence of those risks (it might sound crazy, but when you've been doing something inherently dangerous for such a long time, sometimes you can forget how dangerous it actually is and how easy it is for that danger to suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, rear its head), but it also screams at me to stop being an idiot.

The problem is not that these risks exist - that just is what it is. The problem is when you unnecessarily compound the dangers of these risks by mixing in stupid things like stubbornness, ego, and carelessness. On the other hand, if you prepare yourself adequately to efficiently execute what you are trying to execute; if you don't make last second changes to important pieces of equipment; and if you give yourself hard rules to live by when you're attempting these sorts of feats, where if you're on the verge of breaking one of these rules then you stop, then and there, no questions asked, and you live to fight another day - if you do these things then the risks involved will be minimized to the level of risk that is inherent to the activity without being compounded by your human error, and, to me, that is acceptable.

In the long run stubbornness and ego will do absolutely nothing but serve to get you hurt and fuck up your gains and your health. Be aggressive in your training, that's fine, in fact, it's necessary if you want to become the best that you can be. But keep that aggression in check with at least a little bit of caution, especially when attempting things you've never before attempted. It's better to safely miss the first time you're trying for a PR and then get it a week or two weeks or four weeks later, then it is to completely throw caution to the wind and snap your fucking legs in half because you had to have it right fucking now. Just an important lesson that I think can be taken away from this little incident. If we can learn from it then at least it wasn't without value.

Perseverance vs. Stupidity

This brings me to the final point I wanted to touch on, which is the immediate aftermath of the incident. I came back strong and I persevered, right? ...or was it nothing but pure fucking stupidity that led me to try that shit again? Here, I think the devil is entirely in the details. If I had come back a second time and just tried the exact same thing that I had literally just tried then, no, that's not perseverance. That is just plain stupidity and it would be foolish to expect the end result to be any different then it was the first time.

But that's not what I did. Instead, I took stock of exactly what had gone wrong, made a few minor but strategic adjustments to my execution, did a quick test run to make sure my theories were accurate, and gave myself hard limits to abide by on the next attempt. Then I checked to make sure my nuts were still there and I went for it again. That is not foolish or stupid. That is calculated. That is perseverance. That is tenacity. That is grit. I removed the ego, and the stubbornness, and the carelessness from the equation. I analyzed things logically and I used my aggression and my determination to persevere when things got painful and tough and most other people would have quit themselves or would have even implored for YOU to quit at that point if they had been watching.

Overcoming in that situation builds character. Even failing in that situation builds character. The important part is that you analyzed what went wrong, made some adjustments based on the best information that was available to you, and stood back up for another round. And I think this lesson is important because this mindset bleeds over into everything that you do in life. If you are willing to concede at the first sign of difficulty just because you got a little bit dinged up or psychologically rattled then you're never going to become a master of your craft; you're never going to build a level of character that's worthy of admiration and emulation. But if you can adapt when things get rough, if you can overcome the odds and persevere, or even simply fail while giving it your best damn shot in the face of great danger then you will always be moving out of your comfort zone - growing, evolving, building resilience, building strength of character, and building strength of mind. And that is something worth emulating. That is perseverance, not stupidity, and that is a lesson worth learning.