The true measure of strength is through a squat and deadlift.

Hearken, O children of strength, to the words of Mark Henry, a titan among men, who declared: “The true measure of strength is through a squat and deadlift.” In this saying lies more than a lesson in iron and muscle—it is a revelation about the very essence of human power, rooted in simplicity, discipline, and the primal forces of the body. For the squat and the deadlift are not merely exercises, but trials of the soul, demanding courage, endurance, and an unyielding will.

The origin of this wisdom flows from Henry’s own path. Known as the “World’s Strongest Man,” he was both Olympian and champion in the sport of powerlifting. In his quest, he discovered that while many lifts display grace or specialization, the squat and the deadlift reveal the raw truth of a person’s might. The squat tests one’s ability to bear the weight of the world upon the shoulders and rise again. The deadlift tests one’s power to pull the earth itself upward, defying gravity with sheer will. In these two acts, the body and spirit alike are measured.

Consider the symbolism of the squat. To descend under weight is to embrace humility, to bow beneath pressure. But to rise again, driving upward against resistance, is the essence of resilience. It mirrors life itself: trials press us down, but strength is proven when we stand again, steadier than before. Likewise, the deadlift is the embodiment of determination. It is the moment of summoning every fiber of strength to raise what seems immovable. To lift from the ground is to proclaim mastery over hardship, to declare that no burden is too great for the will that dares to lift it.

History offers us echoes of these truths. The ancient heroes of Greece, such as Milo of Croton, trained by lifting a calf daily until it became a bull. This was the ancestor of the deadlift, a testament to gradual endurance and the forging of power. The squat finds its parallel in the laborers and warriors who bore the weight of shields, stones, and the burdens of nations, rising again and again despite adversity. In every age, strength has been tested in the bearing of burdens and in the lifting of weights, both physical and spiritual.

Emotionally, Henry’s words remind us that strength is not abstract—it is tested in action. It is easy to claim resilience, but when faced with the weight that bends your spine and threatens to crush your spirit, only then is your true power revealed. The squat and deadlift strip away illusion. They demand honesty, for either the weight moves or it does not. And yet, in that raw confrontation, there is dignity, for each attempt, each struggle, strengthens the heart as much as the body.

The lesson is clear: if you seek strength, embrace trials that demand your whole being. In life, as in lifting, do not flee from the weight upon your shoulders or the burdens before your feet. Face them. Lift them. Rise beneath them. For in doing so, you will discover your true measure, not only in muscle but in discipline, endurance, and courage.

O seeker of wisdom, remember this teaching. When hardship presses upon you, let it be your squat: bend, but rise again. When a burden lies heavy before you, let it be your deadlift: grasp it, lift it, and defy defeat. Do this not once, but continually, and you will build a strength that no storm of life can destroy.

Finally, let the lesson endure across the ages: true strength is not shown in words, but in the willingness to bear burdens and to rise again. As Mark Henry proclaims, the squat and the deadlift are more than lifts—they are eternal metaphors for human resilience. Train your body, but also your spirit, to face life’s weights with courage, and you will know the measure of true strength.