Marius Pudzianovski has Polish Power, but Vic Parker has Pensioner Power
Posted by Jacko | Filed under ManChat
And not pensioner power as in a large voting contingent.
The Great Right Hope has become synonymous with sporting greatness. Sponsorship of the local darts team, the Albion Arras, ensured they powered through to win the league in their debut season, even though most of the players didn’t like the darts flights I gave them, they didn’t wear the t-shirts, and I didn’t turn up on the final night’s fixture because I had to buy them each a beer, it was sponsorship, nonetheless.
So, after that debacle, The Great Right Hope is proud to sponsor Vic Parker, a veteran powerlifter hailing from Rothley, Leicestershire. Admittedly, sponsorship only involved giving him a lift to a tournament in Birmingham, where I ate most of his packed lunch, but it’s sponsorship, of sorts.
Anyway,
Sunday 11th Feb saw Vic return to competitive powerlifting, after a thirteen year break. He competed in the West Midlands championships, which took place in Hatchford Brook Youth Centre in Solihull. Vic was lifting in the Masters IV class. I said that Vic was a veteran, and that he is. He turns 70 this year.
I met Vic for the first time about five years ago in Charnwood Leisure Centre (a gym in Loughborough). Yes, unfortunately, I need to regularly work on my hunkiness with the use of iron. Maniron to be precise (which is a word). I was performing the deadlift when an elderly gentleman, limped over and asked if he could join in. This wasn’t a problem, but what was interesting was that there was over three hundred pounds on the bar. Five reps later my jaw was on the floor. “Oh this is nothing,” he said when the groups of spectators failed to comment because they’d all been knocked for six. “I did 250 kilos once.”
Looks can be deceiving. Vic has been weightlifting for fifty years. He started off bodybuilding, inspired by the impressively chiselled Steve Reeves, but he soon realised he didn’t have the genetics for mounds of rippling muscle. At the time, Vic was part of the Charnwood Entertainers, a group of strongmen who performed at village fetes around Leicestershire. One of his feats of strength was breaking six inch nails with his bare hands. Vic realised he was blessed with natural strength, so decided to give powerlifting a try.
Powerlifting consists of three events, as demonstrated by Vic, himself:
1) The squat: A barbell is held on the shoulders, and the competitor must bend at the knees until their hips are below the tops of their knees before returning to the standing position.
2) The bench press: The competitor lies on their back holding a barbell above them. They lower the bar until it touches the chest, pause for a second before lifting it until the arms are straight.
3) The deadlift: A competitor lifts a barbell from the floor until they stand up straight, without pausing.
Vic performed his best lifts in his mid-forties where he reached a total of 550 kg (Squat: 192.5 Kg, Bench: 117.5 Kg, Deadlift: 240 Kg), and he only weighed 82.5 Kg. And if that wasn’t enough, he also ran the Leicester Marathon in three consecutive years around the time, too.
Vic competed in the British Championships when he was in his fifties, and continued to lift until he reached 60 when, during training, he managed to successfully rip the tendon attaching his quadriceps to the bone, clean off. Ouch. Still, the man got better and continued to train right up until he was 63 when he ripped the tendon off the other leg. Double ouch. Most people in their early sixties would’ve given up the ghost, but not Vic Parker. He came back, and that’s when I met him, outdoing men forty years his junior by the squat rack.
Not sure if you picked up on it, but I mentioned that when I first met Vic he limped over to our group. You see, at the time, he was suffering from a pain in his hip, not that it stopped him lifting. Over the next couple of years, Vic’s hip deteriorated and he was diagnosed with arthritis.
An operation was the only choice, but the type of operation was debatable. There was the usual hip replacement, which is the standard “tick-box” procedure carried out by the NHS, but there was also a newer procedure which was being perfored, a hip resurfacement. The resurfacement is a lot less intrusive, and this was Vic’s preference as he had his sights set at one day returning to compete in the British Masters.
What’s a hip resurfacement? Come, my friends, learn-
Unfortunately, because Vic was sixty-five, he was told that he was not eligible for the resurfacement operation as his bones would not be strong enough. He was told this by the NHS, and that was that. If he didn’t take the hip replacement, and, most-likely, end his lifting career, he’d have to seek private treatment. Vic did just that. In the end, he paid a considerable sum of money to have the resurfacement operation, and was told, on waking, that they had a hard job to do the operation due to the high density of his bones. It is such a shame that he had to pay for the op and couldn’t have it done on the NHS, after paying taxes for fifty years, working as a carpenter. The man made a staggeringly quick recovery, which probably shouldn’t have been a surprise, and was back in the gym within a couple of months, and shifting big numbers too.
So, to Sunday. Vic was entering the competition as he needed to qualify for the British Masters, which takes place in April. It was a great day, with some remarkably strong people lifting some remarkably big weights. It was painful to watch some of the Oxford University Powerlifting Team lift at the tournament. They were considerably younger than me, considerably stronger than me, considerably smarter than me, with futures considerably brighter than mine. I tried to run a couple over in my car when they left the building, but, alas, they were considerably quicker than me and my clapped out Escort, too. Just joking (well, only about the attempted GBH bit, the rest is true). They were a great bunch of lads, who did themselves and their university proud.
Back to Vic. Funnily enough, he was the only person competing in the over 70s class.
140 Kg squat. Easy.
Vic needed to lift a total (any total) in order to be eligible for the British Masters in April, but Vic, being Vic, didn’t go easy on himself. He racked up an impressive 410 Kg total (a North Midlands record) at the same bodyweight he lifted at thirteen years ago (82.5 Kg). Yep, if you thought the photos looked a bit old, it’s because Vic is wearing the same lifting suit as thirteen years ago, and I bet it’s a damnsight older than that. Incidentally we had to get him into the suit, which involved two strapping lads yanking him into it, which would have looked like some weird kind of pensioner abuse to the outsider.
Vic’s last lift of the day was his old favourite, the deadlift. He’s been having trouble with his hip, of late (the one without metal in it) and has been taking it easy in training. His first lift was a conservative 140 Kg, the second was 160 kg, before he announced “I’m going for a 180 Kg, but it’s gonna hurt.” Yeah, well lifting over 28 stone off the floor when you’re near 70 should do!
There’s 180 kg done and dusted, and yes, it did hurt. All going well, he’ll be all healed up and competing in the British Masters in April, and I’ll let you know how he gets on.
Vic is a shining example to everyone. This article is not simply about an old age pensioner performing remarkable feats of strengths, as that would not do the man justice. Besides, you can see from the pictures that he is in fantastic shape, and part of his longevity and strength are the product of great genetics. To me, what is truly inspirational is that this man has been training for fifty years, half a century. He has gone through three major operations on his joints in his sixties, and has gone on to compete at a high level. Nothing has stopped him. He has never made excuses and I don’t know anyone who has drive quite like him. Most people make excuses that they can’t exercise for 30 minutes, three times a week, because of what often comes down to nothing but laziness. If Vic’s story doesn’t inspire these people, then nothing will.
To finish, here are some videos of Vic’s lifts.
Squat:
Bench:
Deadlift:
If you have some supportive comments for Vic and his future endeavours, drop them below and I’ll let him know. He hasn’t got access to the internet as “I don’t do computers.”
Absolute legend.
Tags: bench press, British, champioships, charnwood, Charnwood Entertainers, charnwood leisure centre, deadlift, hip replacement, hip resurfacement, leicestershire, Marius Pudzianovski, North Midlands, Oxford, Polish Power, powerlifting, rothley, squat, the price of ham, university, Vic Parker, west midlands
New Year, New Decade, New Jacko?
Posted by Jacko | Filed under ManChat
Hey guys. Haven’t been on here for a while as I’ve been away visiting family over Christmas, and since then I’ve been putting the final touches to the second volume of The Great Right Hope series, A Fistful of Rubbers, which is now with Zetta Brown, the editor for LL-Publications. Finally, it’s done with, and now I have time for some more blogging and let me start by saying Happy New Year.
Yes, folks, a new year and a new year decade. In April, I will say goodbye to my twenties, too, and say hello to my…erm…thirties, yes, that’s the one.
Shit.
I don’t want to really talk about that. Nope, I don’t want to talk about the future, it only brings old age, boredom, kids playing on your lawn and a life-changing increases in the price of ham, and possibly global warming and shit.
So, let’s look backwards, and let’s take a look at the decade we said goodbye to, the noughties. What happened in the noughties? We (England) lost at a lot of sporting events; terrorism reached sickening heights; Usain Bolt ran really, really fast; and the first ever film about bumming cowboys was released. I ain’t really much cop at history, and I can’t be bothered with researching owt, either, as that isn’t my style. To be honest, I can’t be arsed to talk about the past, as that’s in the past, and the future is the only thing that matters, right?
What I will say, is that on a particular supernatural day in the noughties I experienced, for the first and only time, what can only be classed as divination. Unfortunately, my foretelling wasn’t the kind that would ever bag me a lot of money, or any, for that matter. It would not put me in a position where I could make a difference to the world. My vision came to me when two girls danced and sang (technically questionable) their way on to my television screen. Those Transylvanian girls were cheeky little things, indeed, and they were indeed, The Cheeky Girls.
The cheeky girls hit our screens in 2002 when they auditioned for Popstars The Rivals, and from that came the song, The Cheeky Song (Touch My Bum), and even though in 2004, it was voted the worst pop record of all time in a Channel 4, it still got to number two in the UK charts. Number, f***ing two, can you believe that? This country. This f**ing country. To summarise, they’re mum writes their songs; in 2006 they filed for bankruptcy; and in 2007 they had tit jobs.
I was convinced my 2002 prediction would come true, and everything was building up to its ultimate fulfilment. Even up to the end of December 2009, I was convinced that I couldn’t be wrong. I told the world, my friends and loved ones, as a 22 year-old kid, that it was a guaranteed dead cert that one of the cheeky girls would become a porn star by the end of the decade.
And they didn’t!
So the title of this post was “A New Year, A New Decade, A New Jacko?” So is there going to be a new Jacko? Well, probably not; not unless I win the lottery, or someone gives me a multi-million quid book deal, but one thing I will say, is that I predict, that by the end of this decade, by midnight, December 31st 2019, one of the Cheeky Girls will be in porno, somewhere on the internet.
Mark my words.
Tags: A Fistful of Rubbers, divination, England, getting old, global warming and shit, Happy New Year, LL-Publications, mark jackman, Nostradamus, Popstars, porn, sport, The Cheeky Girls, The Great Right Hope, the price of ham, The Rivals, thirties, twenties, UK Charts, Usain Bolt, Zetta Brown
