The Test of Strength
The Test of Strength by Austrian painter Franz Defregger is an example of a nineteenth century period scene depicting a man in traditional Austrian attire attempting to lift a large stone in a courtyard of a tavern, while a gaggle of engaged and pensive onlookers surround him.
The man is bent over the stone with his hips hinged back. He’s got his hands fixed on the sides of the large rock. You can tell by the way Defregger has emphasized the details in the man’s arms and legs, that he’s established a firm grip and is activating significant muscular force.
What do you think happens next?
Defregger was a genre painter, meaning that his art depicts ordinary moments in the culture of everyday life. His depictions of people engaged in common activities reflected the period of time and location in which he lived and worked. Defregger’s paintings are especially renowned in his homeland, the Austrian state of Tyrol. Tyrol borders Bavaria, Germany, a region that has a celebrated history of stone lifting for sport and recreation. Through Defregger’s painting, we’re treated to an authentic scene of a stone lifting event.
Stone lifting as a strength training practice dates back to ancient times. Stones were the weight lifting object of choice before barbells and dumbbells. Many historic lifting stones have a mythical and mystical symbolism associated with them. Both ancient and modern cultures throughout the world connect these lifting stones and a person’s ability to lift them with spiritual prowess. It’s perhaps the most timeless lifting exercise used to determine and showcase one’s overall strength and stability.
I lift a lot of different weights, but stones leave my muscles burning and bulging like no piece of exercise equipment can!
I’ve previously mentioned and detailed my passion for stone lifting, which I first tried on the occasion of my fortieth birthday, in a post titled “Leave no Stone Unlifted”. Now when I see a stone alongside a trail in nature, I have the most overwhelming urge to lift it!
The most convenient thing about training with stones is that they’re abundant and free to use. They’re not subject to heavy metal tariffs, which would make dumbbells, barbells and kettlebells even more expensive than they already are. And they won’t take up space in your home, unless you decide to build a little outdoor stone garden that doubles as a lifting gym, which is a dream of mine. But until then, my motto is, “tread softly and carry a big stone; you will go far in your physical fitness pursuits.”
As for physical benefits, stone lifting is a brutally honest determiner of grip strength and muscular power. The organic shape of a stone, whether it’s smooth, bumpy or rugged; means that a secure grasp and dynamic exhibition of force is required to hoist it off the ground. Oftentimes natural stones are irregular in form, which means that I need to apply a firm grip with my hands in an asymmetrical position, which adds to the challenge of maintaining my balance while lifting the stone.
With stone lifting it’s really important to get a good feel for the object before hoisting it. I start by observing the stone from all angles to explore its intricacies and nuances. The first thing I look for is how I’ll be able to grip the stone. I run my fingers over and around it, feeling the variances along its surface and finding the sweet spot(s) where I’ll lock in.
This approach reflects the practice of mindfulness. In order to achieve a successful lift, I need to be fully aware of the physical and cognitive qualities involved in the stone lifting process. I can’t let any other thought or feeling intrude. The ability to hone my focus on a challenging and engaging task is a major reason why I’m drawn to exercise. It helps me to stave off intrusive thoughts and emotions, and the pump (i.e. the strong rush of blood coursing through the muscles after an intense workout) provides a rewarding rush of endorphins that provide a significant reprieve from my OCD symptoms.
The disciplined and thoughtful approach that I apply to lifting stones is an affirmation that I can also handle the burden of my mental health. I often compare my experiences with OCD as a Sisyphean task. The heavy load and recurring aspect of OCD’s intrusive thoughts and rituals takes a great deal of energy to manage, and feels like an eternity of stifled efforts and unending fear and frustration. OCD is my boulder to push up a hill, only to have it roll away from me before reaching the top. However, the adverse effect occurs when I’m lifting weights. A hard workout may lead to some initial frustration, but I have developed the willpower and mindset to not let the process stifle me. My powerful feats of strength and the results of my physical fitness routine are slowly, but surely carrying over to my mental health treatment.
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