Fuck Being Normal: An Interview with Dave Tate

Dave Tate is a badass. He's big. He's strong. He may be the most opinionated guy you'll ever read. And he is testosterone incarnate. I'm not saying this is necessarily a good thing, but it's compelling - especially to a guy like me, who grew up afraid to offend anyone.

Courtesy of T-Nation [NOTE: title and location were changed since I posted - the link has been updated thanks to a reader who wanted to read the whole thing.]

Fuck Being Normal: An Interview with Dave Tate
by Nate Green

I interviewed Dave Tate, 41-year-old businessman and world-class powerlifting expert, on January 13th. We talked, laughed, and cursed for two hours, and somehow I convinced myself that I'd done my job as a journalist, that I'd conducted a comprehensive, cohesive interview.

Then the transcript arrived. Sixty-two pages, 21,994 words. After reading through a few pages, I noticed a pattern: there was no fucking pattern.

While Dave was talking about Westside Barbell, he launched into a story about sending 75 pounds of pornography to Jim Wendler, a fellow powerlifter and his future sales manager at EliteFTS. He talked about why the 225-pound bench press test, a favorite yardstick to measure athletic talent at the NFL Combine, was "fucking stupid," then pivoted to a rant about fat guys and kindergarten. He told me his thoughts about the future of the fitness industry, said he liked my book, then went off on a tangent about tearing both pecs.

I realized my questions didn't matter. He had a lot to say, and his thoughts were uniquely interesting, funny, poignant, and inspiring. But there's no use pretending those thoughts were offered in response to any particular question I asked. We might've ended up with the same answers if I'd asked the questions in Arabic or Lithuanian. So I took out the questions, leaving you with pure, undiluted Dave.

Dave, a native of Findlay, Ohio, currently resides just outside Columbus. He's as well-known for his prolific and profane rants about whatever happens to be on his mind (if you're not easily offended, try this one) as for his powerlifting achievements. (He reached Elite status in three different weight classes, and recorded an all-time-best total of 2,205 pounds.)

He's also the author of Under the Bar and a married guy with two young sons.

With that out of the way, here's Dave.

I Became the Dude You Didn't Fuck With

I was labeled with a learning disability early on, and had to deal with all the bullshit that went with it. There were events through my childhood that made me feel basically worthless, denied, or rejected. I played football and did very well, but I hated all the fuckers I was playing with and realized I wasn't getting any respect. But I learned they'd shut up real quick and leave me alone if I just knocked them on their fucking ass all the time.

My dad dropped me off at a hardcore powerlifting gym to get in shape for football. As soon as I stepped in there I knew that I wanted to be a powerlifter. My training partners were 30-year-old men and they took me in. They pushed me. In the weight room you weren't judged on your grades, what classes you were taking, what special assistance you needed, or any of that bullshit. You were judged on your strength. It was all about what was on the bar and nothing else. In the weight room I learned that I could have control. The harder I worked, the smarter I got, the more people listened, the more I progressed.

I didn't take shit from anyone after that. People quit picking on me. They quit making fun of me because all of a sudden I became the dude you didn't fuck with. So why powerlifting? It was my solace.

I Was Standing Up There In My Underwear With Oil On and Felt Stupid

I always liked the idea of bodybuilding when I was younger. It's actually been debated that I could've done just as well at bodybuilding as I did in powerlifting because of the muscularity I had at a younger age. When I went to college [University of Toledo], I couldn't find any powerlifting guys to train with. So I started to train with the bodybuilders.

A couple of my training partners were guys who went on to win some NPC contests and compete in the Junior USA. I fell into a crowd of people who really knew what they were doing and helped guide me. I loved the training aspect of the sport, the dieting, and the discipline, but I came into it a bit messed up. I had a blocky waist and my lats weren't wide at all, which put me at a disadvantage.

We'd use either a three-day split or a four-day split. Back then we trained every body part twice per week and barely did any cardio. I also never even went through the final prep to get ready for the contest. We never did sodium loading and depletion or any of that shit. We didn't know about it.

My first competition I didn't do real well and wanted to quit. I didn't place for shit. I cheated on my diet all the time because I didn't know what to expect. I was still a teenager and placed like fifth or something. I weighed in at 242 pounds at 5-foot-10, and was around 8 percent body fat, but I just got fucking smoked by some shredded dude that was like 140 pounds. The only reason I stuck with bodybuilding after that was because my roommate called me a pussy. He said I didn't like competing because I sucked, which was mostly true.

My final show I actually won, but it just didn't feel right. I remember being up on stage when they gave me the trophy and looking out into the audience. I felt nothing. I didn't know who any of those fucking people were. Just a bunch of guys in boat-neck sweatshirts, you know?

I was standing up there in my underwear with oil on and felt stupid. I never wanted to do it again. I was actually supposed to compete in the Mr. Ohio three weeks later, and I remember my training partner came to pick me up the next day after the show to go to the gym. He found me lying near-comatose in my dorm room with fucking Haagen-Dazs and Oreos and shit everywhere. I think he realized then that I wasn't going to compete anymore.

That next week I started training for my next powerlifting meet. The bitch of it was that my 1,820 powerlifting total had dropped down to 1,620.

Under the Bar, It's All About You

It took me two years to get back to the 1,820 total. Back when I was bodybuilding I had no max-effort type of training, and my technique had totally changed. It's like I completely forgot how to bench, squat, and deadlift. But even with that it didn't matter because I was home again. I remember sitting there getting wrapped up for my first competition squat and thinking, man, this is what it's all about.

I got to test myself again. I got to ask myself some tough questions. Did my training work? Am I mentally ready? You get under the bar, it's all about you. With bodybuilding you still had to rely on the judges and how they felt that day. But with powerlifting, it's just you and the bar. There's nothing like lifting heavy shit.

You're going to be as weak as your weakest training partner

I always felt it was my responsibility and my duty to get the guy next to me stronger than I was. And all the guys who trained there felt the same. One person may have had better genetics or more mental strength, but it didn't fucking matter. What matters is that you're going to be as weak as your weakest training partner.

If you're the strongest guy in the gym then you can pretty much guarantee that you've gone as far as you're going to go. I would rather be the weakest guy in the gym and the strongest guy on the platform any day, you know? If you're the strongest dude in the gym, you need to get the fuck out and find somebody else you can train with who's going to whoop your ass. Very few people can do it by themselves.

Read the rest of the article.

Tags: testosterone, weight training, strength, Fuck Being Normal, An Interview, Dave Tate, power lifting, bodybuilding, mental toughness