Abstract
In July 2025, 75 kg lifter Eric Kim performed a rack pull of 602 kg (1,327 lb) from mid-thigh height – an achievement over eight times his body weight and far beyond any prior documented lift of its kind . This paper analyzes the implications of this extraordinary feat from multiple perspectives: physiological demands and adaptations, biomechanical considerations, psychological factors, performance science (training, recovery, and nutrition), impacts on strength training methodologies, and the broader exploration of human strength potential. We contextualize Kim’s lift against world records – exceeding the heaviest full deadlift (501 kg) by over 100 kg – and examine how such an unprecedented accomplishment was possible. The analysis draws on strength science literature, commentary on Kim’s training approach, and comparisons to other world-class feats. Our findings highlight that Kim’s rack pull, while aided by a partial range of motion, required extreme muscular and neural output, careful training progression, and mental resilience. Biomechanically, the lift leveraged advantageous joint angles to shatter perceived limits, yet imposed colossal stresses on the body. Psychologically, it underscores the importance of mindset and confidence in pushing boundaries. The case study of this lift informs elite powerlifting and general strength training practices, illustrating both the potential benefits and risks of supramaximal overload training. Ultimately, Kim’s 602 kg rack pull serves as a provocative data point in the exploration of human potential, suggesting that with intelligent training and determination, the limits of human strength may be higher than previously imagined.
Introduction
Few events have so abruptly redefined strength limits as Eric Kim’s 602 kg rack pull in 2025. A rack pull is a partial deadlift where the barbell starts elevated – in Kim’s case, at roughly mid-thigh – reducing the range of motion and bypassing the weakest segment of a full deadlift . Even with this advantage, moving 602 kg (1,327 lb) for any distance is astonishing. For perspective, the heaviest official full deadlift is 501 kg by Hafþór J. Björnsson (“The Mountain”) in 2020 . Kim’s rack pull exceeded that by over 100 kg, and also eclipsed the strongest recorded partial deadlift of 580 kg (a strongman “silver dollar” deadlift at ~18 inch height by Rauno Heinla in 2022) . Unlike those super-heavyweight strongmen (Björnsson weighed ~200 kg, Heinla ~135 kg), Kim weighs only ~75 kg. His achievement – roughly 8.0× bodyweight – is unheard of in strength sports . By comparison, world-class lifters usually top out around 2.5–4× bodyweight in deadlift variants . Table 1 illustrates how unprecedented Kim’s pound-for-pound performance is, dwarfing even legendary lifts by much larger athletes.
Kim’s lift was conducted under non-competition conditions in his garage gym, but with thorough documentation. Video evidence and weighing of plates preempted any skepticism about fake weights . Notably, Kim performed the feat with minimal equipment: barefoot, reportedly beltless and without straps – essentially “raw” by powerlifting standards . This starkly contrasts with many strongman feats which often allow straps or supportive suits . The result was a viral sensation; within hours the footage spread across social media, leaving both experts and laymen in awe . While some observers initially dismissed it as “just a rack pull,” the sheer magnitude forced a recalibration of what was considered possible . As one strength analyst noted, Kim effectively “outdid the all-time deadlift by over 200 kg” (albeit from a higher starting point) and achieved a strength ratio previously thought impossible outside theoretical calculations . This introduction sets the stage for a deeper analysis of how such a feat was achievable and what it implies for multiple domains of strength science.
In the following sections, we examine (1) the physiological implications – the muscular, skeletal, and neural demands and adaptations involved; (2) a biomechanical analysis of the lift – how joint angles and load distribution enabled 602 kg to be moved, and how this compares to a conventional deadlift; (3) psychological components – the mental resilience, motivation, and focus required for such an endeavor; (4) performance science considerations – the training regimen, periodization (or lack thereof), recovery strategies, and nutritional/supplementation approaches that underpin ultra-heavy lifts; (5) implications for strength training methodologies – how lessons from this feat can apply to training elite powerlifters as well as recreational lifters, and considerations for program design; and (6) the exploration of human potential – what Kim’s rack pull suggests about the upper limits of human strength. By analyzing Eric Kim’s 602 kg lift through these lenses, we hope to glean insights into both the extraordinary capacities of the human body and mind and the practical takeaways for strength training practice.
Physiological Implications: Muscular, Skeletal, and Neural Demands
Performing a 602 kg rack pull places extreme muscular demands on the body’s largest and strongest muscle groups. The movement heavily taxes the posterior chain – particularly the gluteus maximus, hamstrings, and spinal erector muscles – as they generate the hip extension force to complete the lift . Because the lift began at mid-thigh, Kim bypassed the initial push from the quadriceps that a full deadlift from the floor would require . Instead, the emphasis was on the hip and back extensors to grind out the top half of the movement. Even so, those muscles had to contract with extraordinary force to move a weight of this magnitude. Observers noted that Kim’s upper back and trapezius muscles also bore a colossal strain to keep his shoulders retracted and spine braced under the load . In Kim’s own words, the trap and erector overload in a heavy rack pull is “savage,” underscoring that even with a reduced range of motion, the muscular effort is off the charts . Such an extreme load likely approached the maximal force-producing capacity of these muscles. Repeated training at high intensity would have stimulated significant muscular adaptations – including myofibrillar hypertrophy (increase in muscle fiber size) and improved intramuscular coordination – although at Kim’s relatively low body weight, neural efficiency (rather than massive muscle size) was likely the key to his strength. Indeed, strength training literature shows that gains in maximal strength often come from neural adaptations that improve the nervous system’s ability to recruit muscle fibers efficiently and synchronously . Kim’s achievement exemplifies this: he leveraged an ability to activate nearly every available motor unit in the prime movers to generate force far beyond ordinary human levels .
The skeletal and connective tissue demands of supporting 602 kg are likewise unprecedented. Even though the bar was lifted only a few inches, Kim’s spine, hip joints, knees, and supporting ligaments/tendons had to withstand enormous compressive and shear forces. One rough calculation on a lifting forum estimated over 40 kN (≈4 tons) of force on his spine at the moment of lockout . While this figure is speculative, it conveys the scale of stress involved. Under such loading, the body’s structures face stresses well above what they encounter in typical athletic activities. Over time, however, the human musculoskeletal system can adapt to high loads – a principle known as Wolff’s Law in bone physiology. The heavy resistance training in Kim’s buildup would have triggered osteogenic responses, potentially increasing bone density and strengthening joint structures to handle higher forces . Tendons and ligaments respond by increasing their stiffness and tensile strength when subjected to progressive overload. Indeed, studies have shown that months of high-load training can significantly increase tendon stiffness (e.g. a ~15–39% increase in patellar and Achilles tendon stiffness after 12 weeks of heavy strength training) . These adaptations help improve force transmission and structural integrity, effectively “hardening” the body against injury. Kim’s training log indicates he ramped up the weight gradually over many months , which likely allowed his connective tissues time to remodel and strengthen. However, this level of adaptation has limits and requires careful management – connective tissues recover and adapt more slowly than muscle. Overzealous jumps in weight or inadequate recovery could easily lead to injury (tendon rupture, disc herniation, etc.) when dealing with such extreme loads . The fact that Kim reportedly avoided major injury attests to a successful balance between pushing limits and allowing adaptation.
Another crucial physiological aspect is the neural demand and central nervous system (CNS) involvement. Hoisting a half-ton weight requires an immense neural drive – the CNS must activate virtually all available motor units at once and maintain maximal firing rates to produce the needed force . This level of effort also necessitates overcoming the body’s protective inhibitions. Normally, proprioceptive organs like the Golgi tendon organs (located in tendons) act as safety valves, limiting muscle force output when tension gets too high, to prevent self-injury . Elite lifters through training (and acute psychological arousal) can raise this threshold, allowing them to exert force closer to the muscles’ true maximal capacity. In Kim’s case, repeated exposure to supramaximal loads (via heavy rack pulls) would have conditioned his nervous system to tolerate extreme tension – essentially recalibrating what his brain perceives as “too much.” Over time, this reduces neural inhibition and improves intermuscular coordination under heavy strain . The result is an athlete capable of feats that would normally trip the body’s emergency brake for the average person. It’s telling that Kim was able to hold 602 kg at lockout under control for a moment, then lower it under restraint – a task requiring not just strength, but finely tuned neuromuscular control to avoid any sudden loss of form that could be catastrophic. Physiologically, most humans never tap into this level of near-total motor unit recruitment or experience such extreme internal forces. Kim’s lift shows that with specific training, the human body’s safety margins can be pushed back, unlocking performance that borders on “post-human,” as Kim himself half-jokingly termed it . Of course, these margins exist for a reason – exceeding one’s structural and neural limits is a tightrope walk between adaptation and injury, one that Kim managed with remarkable success through disciplined training and recovery (discussed further in a later section).
In summary, the physiological profile of a 602 kg rack pull involves near-maximal muscular force generation by the posterior chain and stabilizers, extraordinary stress on bones and connective tissues, and an overwhelming neural activation to synchronize the effort. The feat underscores human adaptability: under gradual, progressive overload, muscle fibers thicken and firing patterns improve, bones and tendons fortify, and neural inhibitory reflexes relent slightly – all coalescing to enable a once “impossible” task. At the same time, it is a stark reminder of the biological boundaries; the fact that Kim achieved this without acute injury is a testament to careful preparation and perhaps exceptional genetics, because the strain he endured approaches the edge of what the human body can tolerate .
Biomechanical Analysis: Leverage, Joint Angles, and Load Distribution
Kim’s record lift was only possible by exploiting favorable biomechanics. A rack pull from mid-thigh is mechanically much easier than a full-range deadlift off the floor – and understanding this is key to analyzing the feat. In a conventional deadlift, the lifter begins in a deep crouch: knees and hips significantly flexed, torso inclined forward. The initial phase (breaking the bar off the floor) is typically the most challenging part of the lift, demanding a strong leg drive and placing the lifter at a poor leverage position (high moment arm on the lower back) . By contrast, Kim’s starting position at mid-thigh height meant his knees were only slightly bent and his torso more upright than in a normal deadlift setup . This shorter range of motion (ROM) conferred several advantages:
- Improved leverage: With less forward lean, the moment arm on the lower back was reduced. Kim did not have to overcome as much torso shear force at the start, easing the burden on the spinal erectors and hips at the critical moment of lift initiation . Essentially, the lift began closer to his strongest range – the top half of a deadlift, where many lifters can handle much more weight than at the bottom. Coaches often note that partial pulls allow 35–50% higher loads than full pulls precisely because the lifter bypasses their weakest link . In Kim’s case, starting above the knees eliminated the need for his quadriceps to produce a big initial drive; instead, his powerful hip extensors (glutes, hamstrings) took center stage from the outset . The rack height effectively “shortened the lever” and tilted the strength equation in favor of the lifter.
- Reduced range of motion: The bar only had to travel a few inches until lockout, versus roughly 60–70 cm from the floor in a full deadlift. Less distance means less work done (force × distance). As Mark Rippetoe wryly put it regarding feats like these, it’s “half the work, but twice the swagger” . The reduced ROM allowed Kim to attempt a weight that would be utterly unliftable for him through a full range. By limiting the movement to the final phase (where the hip joint angle is more open and the muscular length-tension conditions are favorable), he maximized the weight he could move in that partial segment. This is analogous to how powerlifters might train with high box squats or board presses with weights above their full-range max – the shorter motion lets them handle more iron, overloading specific joint angles.
- Different muscle activation pattern: At mid-thigh, the emphasis was on hip extension and back extension to achieve lockout. Kim’s glutes and hamstrings, which are typically the prime movers at the top half of a deadlift, were the stars of the show. Meanwhile, his knee extensors (quadriceps) played only a minor role, since his knee angle was already nearly extended when he initiated the pull . This meant the limiting factor became his hip/back strength and his ability to stabilize the torso under load, rather than the usual sticking point off the floor where lifters might fail due to leg drive or lower-back rounding. Kim essentially turned the lift into a test of his posterior chain’s end-range strength and his traps/upper-back’s capacity to maintain scapular retraction against the immense pulling force .
While these biomechanical factors made the 602 kg possible, “easier” is very relative – the stress on the body at lockout was extreme. In fact, one trade-off of the partial lift is that although you dodge the hardest part of a full deadlift, you concentrate all the load onto the final segment. By not having to ever accelerate the weight from a dead stop on the floor, Kim could put everything into just finishing and holding the lift. At lockout, his skeleton was bearing the full brunt of 602 kg. The barbell visibly bent into a deep bow under the load , which slightly buffers the force (the “whip” of the bar means the plates leave the pins milliseconds apart rather than all at once) . Still, once fully lifted, all that weight was transmitted through Kim’s body. His spine was compressed, his hip and knee joints had to statically hold, and his core had to brace harder than ever before. This is where structural limits come into play – any weakness in his posterior chain or core stability would have been brutally exposed. Impressively, video analysis showed that Kim’s form remained tight under load: no significant hitching (jerking the bar against thighs) or rounding beyond a normal max lift posture . The fact that he could maintain control indicates excellent core stiffness and spinal stability, a testament to his training of heavy singles. A lifter without such bracing ability might have crumpled or been unable to lock the weight out safely.
It’s also instructive to compare Kim’s rack pull to a standard deadlift in terms of joint angles and muscle engagement. At the start of Kim’s pull, estimates from the video suggest his knee angle was nearly ~150–160° (almost straight) and hip angle perhaps ~120° (slightly bent forward at the waist). In a conventional deadlift starting position for someone of similar build, the knee might be ~100–110° and hip ~70–90°. The more acute angles in the full lift mean the quadriceps and initial back lever are major limiting factors. By the time a normal deadlift reaches the knees (midpoint), the lifter’s effort often shifts from leg drive to hip drive to finish the lift. Kim essentially began at that midpoint. This specificity matters: one reason rack pulls are commonly used is to strengthen the lockout portion of the deadlift. However, a known caveat in strength coaching is that very high rack pulls (above the knee) may not carry over much to a full deadlift, because they alter the movement mechanics so significantly. They tend to become more of a shrug/upper back exercise than a true deadlift movement . Kim himself acknowledged this, noting that setting the pins too high “becomes a glorified shrug” rather than a pull . By setting at mid-thigh, he ensured there was still meaningful hip joint movement required, not just a slight knee unlock. Still, the transfer to a full-range deadlift is uncertain – if Kim attempted 602 kg from the floor, he certainly would not budge it. But the value of the partial is in overload training (discussed later): it can train the body and mind to handle weight above one’s max, even if only in a partial ROM.
From a force distribution standpoint, the rack pull placed maximal load on Kim’s posterior chain and axial skeleton at lockout. His knee extensors got off easy (relatively speaking), but everything from his ankles upward had to stabilize a tremendous weight. The ground reaction force traveled through his feet, up his legs, through the pelvis into the spine and out to the bar via his arms and shoulders. At 602 kg, even micro-instabilities could be disastrous. The lift’s success highlights how well-conditioned his entire kinetic chain was to share the load. His grip strength is another notable factor: Kim reportedly often lifts strapless with a hook grip (thumb locked under fingers), which is remarkable at these loads . Grip often becomes a limiting factor in deadlifts – the nervous system may limit lower-body force if it senses the hands slipping. By training without straps up to ~550 kg, Kim built enormous grip capacity and neural confidence that his hands could hold the weight . (For the 602 kg attempt, it’s unclear if he quietly used straps or not; either way, the ability to secure the bar was achieved.) A BarBend training guide notes that rack pulls are useful for building grip strength since you can hold heavier weights than in a full pull . Kim’s case exemplifies this, as handling ~600 kg requires forearm and hand strength virtually on par with the back and hip strength.
In summary, the biomechanics of the 602 kg rack pull boiled down to shortening the lift to its strongest range and thereby amplifying the load beyond what is normally possible. Mid-thigh rack pulls let a lifter maintain more favorable leverages (upright back, minimal knee bend) and thus move extraordinarily heavy weights over a small range . Kim exploited this to the extreme, executing a partial lift that approached the limit of human skeletal loading. The feat demonstrates the principle that range of motion is a critical variable: by manipulating ROM, one can target specific weaknesses or, conversely, showcase specific strengths. However, it also illustrates the specificity of strength – Kim’s world-class partial does not equate to a world-class full deadlift, but it does highlight an insanely strong lockout and upper-back capability that he developed. Biomechanically, he found a loophole to plant a flag in uncharted territory (600+ kg) while staying just this side of what his structure could handle. This has spurred discussion on how partials might be used more in training, but also warnings that “with great weights comes great responsibility” (as one commentator humorously paraphrased) – the responsibility to respect proper form, progression, and recovery when playing with extreme loads .
Psychological Components: Mindset, Motivation, and Mental Resilience
Lifting weights that defy normal human limits is as much a psychological battle as a physical one. Eric Kim’s 602 kg rack pull required an extraordinary mindset – a blend of fearless confidence, focus, pain tolerance, and perhaps even a degree of controlled aggression. Top powerlifters often say that attempting a max lift is 90% mental; in Kim’s case, this was likely amplified. Firstly, consider the belief and vision needed to even pursue such a goal. As one sports psychology principle holds: “You must believe in order to achieve.” Kim had to genuinely believe that 600+ kg was liftable, despite no precedent for a person of his size doing anything remotely close. This relates to the concept of self-efficacy in sport – the lifter’s confidence in their ability to succeed on a given attempt. Many people, even seasoned lifters, would be mentally overwhelmed standing before a bar loaded with over half a ton. The body’s natural response to such a daunting stimulus could be fear or inhibition. Kim overcame this through gradual exposure and mental conditioning. Over months, as he worked up from 500 kg to 550 kg and beyond, he expanded his mental map of “possible.” Each milestone likely built “neural confidence,” teaching his brain that it was safe to handle the next increment . In fact, Kim has openly stated that he viewed rack pulls as a tool to build confidence: by handling a supra-maximal weight in a partial range, he could then translate that newfound belief (and neural adaptation) back to his full-range deadlift training . This approach echoes a long-held coaching idea: seeing and feeling a weight can remove the psychological barrier associated with it. After you’ve felt 600 kg in your hands, a 300 kg deadlift might “feel” comparatively light – the mind has recalibrated what “heavy” means.
Kim’s psychological preparation before the lift was evident in the video. He approaches the bar with a calm but determined demeanor, takes a deep breath, and then lets out a thunderous primal roar as he completes the lift . That roar – described by one witness as “the sound of a human challenging gravity” – is a window into the mental state required . It suggests a maximal arousal level: his sympathetic nervous system (the “fight or flight” response) was likely in high gear, flooding his system with adrenaline. This hormonal surge can momentarily increase strength by recruiting more muscle fibers and dulling pain, essentially allowing a person to push harder than normal. Many strength athletes use psych-up techniques (loud music, shouting, visualization of aggression) to intentionally raise arousal for a max lift . However, it’s a delicate balance – too much adrenaline or emotion can lead to a loss of motor control or technique. Kim’s successful execution indicates he hit the optimal zone, sometimes called the ideal performance state, where arousal and focus are maximized but under control. His contorted expression during the lift and the triumphant yell at lockout were an outlet for the immense strain and intensity of the moment . Notably, he still had the presence of mind to maintain form and even lower the weight under control, showing that his concentration on technique held firm despite the adrenaline.
Another psychological aspect is resilience and pain tolerance. Supporting such weight can produce extreme discomfort – lifters often describe feeling like their eyeballs might pop or their bones are being crushed under extreme loads. The stress on Kim’s hands (if lifting strapless) would be agonizing, and his whole body would be under distress signals. The ability to not only endure that acute physical strain but to not panic or quit mid-lift is a hallmark of high mental resilience. It’s likely Kim cultivated this through progressively overloading his system in training, getting used to feeling uncomfortable weights. Each rack pull session would teach him to stay composed under pressure. Psychological habituation is key; by the time he attempted 602 kg, he had already felt 550 kg+ and learned how his body reacts. This reduces the shock factor. Additionally, his training style of frequent 1-rep max attempts (discussed later) may have been mentally taxing, but it could inure one to the anxiety of max attempts. Many lifters experience “stage fright” or doubt on very heavy attempts. Kim’s approach essentially practiced that feeling regularly, making the extraordinary eventually feel almost routine.
Motivation and purpose also drive such feats. What would compel someone to attempt something so extreme? In Kim’s case, part of it seems to be personal challenge and a form of self-expression. He often uses over-the-top phrases like “dominion over gravity” or even titled his video “Stronger than god,” showing a flamboyant, self-motivating style of speech . While tongue-in-cheek, this grandiose language hints at a mindset of limitless possibility – he framed his goal in almost mythical terms, which can be a powerful motivator. It injects a sense of meaning and drama that fuels the arduous process of training. Psychologically, tying one’s goal to a larger narrative (e.g. “proving that even a ‘normal guy’ can break barriers” or “pushing humanity’s limits”) can provide deep intrinsic motivation. Kim’s underdog background – a smaller lifter without formal sponsors or pedigree – may have further stoked his fire, as he set out to prove skeptics wrong and carve out his place in strength lore . Indeed, he became a sort of folk hero online precisely because he was an unlikely candidate for such a feat . That external validation (nicknames like “pound-for-pound king” on forums) and community excitement likely reinforced his own drive .
Focus is another critical psychological component. During the lift, any lapse in concentration could be disastrous. Kim had to enter a state of tunnel vision where the only thing that existed was him and the barbell. Achieving this focus often requires mental cues or routines. Some lifters use visualization beforehand – mentally rehearsing the lift successfully. It’s not documented exactly what Kim’s mental routine was, but given his methodical setup, one can infer he was zeroed in on the task. Sports psychology literature suggests that visualization and positive self-talk can enhance maximal strength performance by priming the neural pathways involved and increasing confidence . There is also a concept of “arousal control”: too much excitement can cause a miss, so elite lifters learn to psych up just enough. Kim’s ability to hit the lift on video suggests he mastered his arousal level for that attempt – he harnessed aggression (as evidenced by the scream) but remained sufficiently composed to execute his technique. After the lift, his immediate emotional outburst (“Stronger than god!” shouted to the camera) and visible elation also indicate the immense psychological pressure that had built up, now released in triumph . Such a climax is the result of not just physical exertion but conquering one’s own doubts and stress in the moment.
In conclusion, the psychological underpinnings of the 602 kg rack pull are multi-faceted. Confidence built through incremental successes was crucial – Kim expanded the realm of possibility in his mind before doing so in reality . Motivation and mindset propelled him – an almost audacious belief that gravity could be defied, coupled with an underdog’s determination to shock the world. During the lift, focus and arousal had to be optimally calibrated, summoning maximum intensity without chaos. And finally, mental resilience – the courage to attempt the “impossible” and persist despite pain or fear – carried him through the grind of the lift. Kim’s feat underscores that at the elite extremes of strength, the brain is often the ultimate limiting factor or enabler. As one powerlifting coach noted, a person’s self-image and mindset “set the boundaries to their accomplishments” . Kim essentially chose to redraw his boundaries, and his mind opened the gate for his body to follow. This psychological lesson extends beyond one lift: it invites all lifters to question their perceived limits and consider how much of what we think is “impossible” is simply a mental barrier that with careful training – and a bit of craziness – might be overcome.
Performance Science: Training, Periodization, Recovery, and Supplementation
Executing an extreme feat like a 602 kg rack pull is not a product of happenstance – it is the culmination of a deliberate and rigorous training process. Eric Kim’s training leading up to the lift provides insights into an unconventional but purposeful approach to maximizing strength. Traditional powerlifting periodization often involves cycling through phases (hypertrophy, strength, peaking) with planned submaximal volume and intensity progressions over months. Kim, however, followed a more “maximalist” strategy: frequent near-maximal lifts, low volume, and an emphasis on specific adaptation to high loads. In essence, he practiced lifting extremely heavy singles regularly, making his body accustomed to the exact type of effort required. Over the months prior to the 602 kg attempt, Kim systematically worked up through the 400 kg range, then 500 kg+, then beyond 550 kg, taking small steps each time . He did not simply attempt 600 kg out of the blue; he treated overload as a progression. This approach resembles methodologies from the history of strength training: for instance, strongman Paul Anderson in the 1950s famously used partial lifts (like high squats and supports) with supra-maximal weights to gradually increase his strength, and the Westside Barbell system advocates heavy rack pulls and pin presses to overload beyond one’s max in specific ranges . Kim’s training can be seen as a modern embodiment of these overload principles – by routinely handling weights above what most would consider maximal, he “taught” his CNS and muscles to accept those loads as normal . One YouTube strength coach analyzing the feat remarked that Kim’s “6×–8× bodyweight madness” shows the value of progressive overload pushed to the extreme – systematically pushing beyond perceived limits forces new adaptations and redefines one’s capacity .
From a periodization standpoint, Kim’s regimen was unorthodox. Rather than traditional periodized cycles, he effectively ran a linear progression of singles, with each session attempting to nudge the weight slightly higher (often by as little as 5–10 kg) once he was confident at a given weight. He also reportedly interspersed deloads or lighter periods when needed – for example, after hitting a milestone, he might step back to allow recovery before ramping up again . This resembles an autoregulatory approach where the lifter listens to their body’s feedback. Kim emphasized “celebrating each small increase” and not making giant leaps in weight . This conservative increment strategy is important in high-risk training: a jump from 550 kg to 600 kg in one go would have been a 50 kg leap of faith – likely too much shock. Instead, he had a checkpoint at 575 kg (as hinted by mentions of an earlier 552 kg and 580 kg attempt online) before going for 602 kg . This echoes the advice of coaches: progress gradually and respect the stress of big weights . In fact, a BarBend article on rack pulls explicitly warns that while you can go heavier than your deadlift max due to reduced ROM, “it is possible to go too heavy” – if form breaks down, the benefits vanish and injury risk soars . Kim’s successful progression indicates that he stayed just within his adaptive capacity each step, strengthening his structure and technique in tandem with the rising weights.
An interesting aspect of Kim’s training philosophy is its minimalist nature. He focused on the specific task (maximal pulls) and did relatively few assistance exercises. This is somewhat contrary to common powerlifting programs that include lots of accessory work for muscle hypertrophy or weakness correction. Kim’s results suggest that, at least for a goal like this, highly specific practice had huge returns – essentially a “grease the groove” approach for neural adaptation at max effort. However, it’s worth noting that this approach is very taxing and not suitable for most lifters without careful recovery. Which brings us to the next key aspect: recovery strategies and load management. Handling supramaximal loads puts enormous strain on the CNS and connective tissues; without adequate recovery, overtraining or injury would be inevitable. Kim was reportedly meticulous about recovery, following what he calls “recover like a pro” protocols . This included prioritizing 8–9 hours of quality sleep per night, ensuring a calorie-dense and protein-rich diet (in fact, Kim follows a carnivore diet – essentially all meat – to maximize protein and calorie intake) , and managing lifestyle stress. Sufficient sleep is known to be crucial for neuroendocrine recovery, especially when pushing near the limits of strength. High calories (with ample protein and micronutrients from meat) would help support muscle repair and possibly tendon and bone remodeling. His diet choice also inherently provides lots of creatine (red meat is rich in creatine), which likely supports high-intensity performance and recovery of ATP stores. It’s not mentioned if Kim took additional supplements, but common strength supplements that would make sense include creatine monohydrate (to bolster short-duration high-power output), protein supplements or amino acids (though probably unnecessary given the meat intake), and perhaps joint support supplements or collagen to aid connective tissue – speculative, but plausible given the connective stress.
Furthermore, Kim factored in rest days and deload weeks. According to a “safety snapshot” on his blog, his team outlined guidelines for heavy rack pull training: set the apparatus at a safe height (mid-thigh), consider using straps to spare grip if grip becomes a limiting factor (so as not to subject the body to a catastrophic drop due to grip fail), add weight in small increments, and incorporate a deload every 4–6 weeks to let tendons and nervous system recover . This approach is consistent with general training science: even when pushing limits, you cycle intensity to allow supercompensation. Kim’s experience seems to validate that approach – he did not constantly hammer maximal weights without break, but rather waved the loads. Each deload likely helped him come back stronger and avoid cumulative fatigue or tendonitis that could derail progress.
Another performance science element is injury prevention and technical practice. With loads this large, any form breakdown could cause instantaneous injury (e.g. a slight rounding leading to a slipped disc, or hitching causing a bicep tear). Kim’s training needed to reinforce perfect motor patterns under heavy strain. By practicing singles frequently, he trained his technique at max effort – a specific skill in itself. Notably, respected coaches like Alan Thrall and Joey Szatmary analyzed Kim’s 602 kg lift frame-by-frame and observed that the “physics all checked out” – meaning Kim lifted it in a sound way, not some trick or illegitimate form . Achieving that proficiency is no accident; it’s a result of countless heavy attempts with unwavering attention to form. This is a different school of thought from those who emphasize submaximal volume for technique (e.g. doing many repetitions at 70% to groove form). Instead, Kim basically rehearsed the main event repeatedly at high intensity, making his body adept at exactly what was required. It’s a high-risk, high-reward strategy that necessitates those strong recovery measures.
In terms of periodization, one might say Kim used a form of linear/conjugate hybrid periodization. Linear in the sense of steadily increasing weight, and conjugate in the sense that the rack pull itself was a specific exercise variant targeting a portion of the deadlift (with his normal deadlift presumably trained alongside to some extent). After achieving the 602 kg, one imagines a sensible plan would be to cycle back down, rebuild, and perhaps aim for a higher number later – though at this stratospheric level, diminishing returns and safety concerns might argue for calling it a pinnacle. It raises the question: how does one even periodize beyond this? Some coaches debate whether supramaximal partials build champions or just break them . The answer likely lies in moderation and individual differences. Kim appears to have struck the right balance for himself: enough overload to stimulate gains, but not so much to cause injury. This self-knowledge is crucial in extreme training. It’s telling that after the lift, Kim advised others not to let “partial ego lifts replace full-range training” and to use them like “seasoning, not the main course.” . In other words, he acknowledges that his specialization was a means to an end, not a wholesale replacement for conventional training. For most, the bread-and-butter of strength still has to be compound full-ROM lifts; partials are a supplementary tool.
Finally, regarding supplementation and ergogenic aids, the discussion would not be complete without acknowledging the role of general performance aids. While there is no specific information on Kim using any supplements beyond diet (and no suggestion of performance-enhancing drugs in the sources, which we will not speculate on), we can infer that his all-meat diet provided abundant creatine, iron, B-vitamins, and protein – all crucial for strength. Creatine, in particular, is known to improve high-power output and was naturally present in the pounds of red meat he consumed daily . Adequate protein (likely well over 2 g per kg bodyweight in his diet) would ensure muscle recovery from those heavy attempts. Electrolytes and hydration would also be important on heavy training days to maintain muscle function and avoid cramps under such loads. It’s possible he also used simple supplements like caffeine as a pre-workout stimulant; caffeine is proven to acutely enhance strength by increasing neural drive and reducing perceived effort. Many powerlifters take strong coffee or caffeine pills before max lifts. Given Kim’s intensity on camera, one wouldn’t be surprised if he had a pre-lift ritual involving stimulants or intense music to get into the zone. All these performance science considerations – training programming, recovery, nutrition, and acute strategies – combined to create the scenario for success.
In summary, Kim’s training and preparation illustrate an extreme application of strength science principles. He leveraged progressive overload in a very high intensity, low-volume context, prioritized recovery (sleep, diet, rest phases) to support that overload, and used specificity and neural training (frequent heavy singles and partials) to tailor his performance to the exact feat. This approach was supplemented by careful risk management (gradual increments, form focus, deloads) which reflects an understanding of the body’s limits. While not a conventional periodization model, it achieved the desired adaptation: the ability to lift an incredible weight. For practitioners, Kim’s case serves as both inspiration and caution – it shows what is possible at the furthest edge of training, but also emphasizes that such extremes require meticulous planning and recovery to be done safely. The next section will delve into how these insights might translate to broader strength training methodologies for others.
Implications for Strength Training Methodologies
Eric Kim’s rack pull feat offers several lessons and talking points for strength training methodology, both for elite powerlifters/strongmen and the general lifting population. One clear implication is a renewed appreciation for partial range-of-motion training as a tool. Strength coaches have long incorporated partial lifts (rack pulls, block pulls, high box squats, board presses, etc.) to target specific weaknesses and to allow trainees to handle weights above their full-range max. Kim’s success is like a dramatic case study vindicating this approach: it demonstrates that strategic overload in a partial movement can indeed lead to new levels of maximal strength . Elite lifters can take note that, under the right circumstances, incorporating partials might help break through plateaus. For example, a powerlifter stuck at a 250 kg deadlift might use rack pulls at 270 kg from the knee to build upper-back and lockout strength, or simply to feel a heavier weight and build confidence. This is essentially applying the concept of “neuromuscular familiarization” – heavy holds or partials teach the body to stabilize greater loads, which can make the competition weight feel less daunting. Indeed, even before Kim, some lifters would do things like heavy walk-outs in the squat (loading 110% of squat max, walking it out and holding, then reracking) as a psychological and postural tool. Kim’s lift will likely encourage more of these practices, as lifters seek any edge to push the envelope. We might see more viral videos of people attempting high rack pulls or partial squats with colossal weights, in an effort to chase the kind of adaptation Kim demonstrated . Anecdotally, this is already happening: online forums saw a surge of posts after Kim’s feat with people testing their own rack pull 1RMs (e.g. lifters aiming to join a “1000 lb club – but rack pulls count” jokily) .
However, a critical takeaway – especially for coaches and general population lifters – is the caution and proper implementation of such overload methods. Partial lifts can be a double-edged sword . On one hand, they allow exposure to supramaximal loads that can spur strength gains and build confidence. On the other hand, if overused or ego-driven, they can lead to poor technique habits or injury. The term “ego lift” often comes up with rack pulls done above the knee – lifters sometimes load up a bar they can barely budge just to say they did, but with minimal range (essentially a shrug) that carries little benefit and much risk. Kim’s own advice, as noted, is that partials should be supplements, not substitutes for full lifts . He still trained full deadlifts; the partial was an assistance exercise taken to an extreme. For most lifters, the majority of training should still be through a full range of motion to develop balanced strength and muscle across the entire movement. The implications for program design are that partials and overload techniques should be used sparingly and purposefully. A possible template might be to include a heavy partial lift in the program once every week or two, after the main full-range work, to safely overload. And as Kim’s team suggested, keep the range realistic (mid-thigh or below for pulls) so it still resembles the main lift and requires meaningful extension, rather than turning into a circus lift .
For elite powerlifters or strongmen, Kim’s feat underscores the potential of thinking outside the box. Even though rack pulls are not contested, improving the top-end strength and grip in such a manner could indirectly raise one’s competition deadlift. It also highlights the role of individualization in training. Kim’s routine was very unconventional (few would recommend constant max-outs to a 75 kg lifter), yet it worked for him. This reminds coaches that training is not one-size-fits-all; some athletes can thrive on high intensity/low volume programs if managed well. Elite lifters, who are often closer to their genetic ceiling, might especially benefit from well-timed overload stimuli because adding muscle mass or normal progression becomes very slow at that level. Another point is the mental fortitude gained from such training – competing after having handled far above target weights could be a game-changer. Imagine a powerlifter whose max deadlift is 320 kg; if in training they have done rack holds with 360 kg, stepping on the platform to pull 320 kg might feel almost routine rather than intimidating. This can reduce anxiety and improve execution on meet day.
For the general population and average lifters, there are still insights to be gleaned, albeit on a different scale. Most gym-goers will never need or want to rack pull several times their bodyweight. But the principle of progressive overload and setting audacious goals applies universally. Kim’s lift has been inspirational to many, spurring lifters of all levels to stop saying “I can’t” and start asking “what if I could, with smart training?” . Practically, even a novice could use a mild form of partial training: for instance, a beginner struggling with the bottom of a squat might squat to a high box with a slightly heavier weight to build confidence, then gradually lower the box over time. Or an intermediate lifter might use block pulls mid-shin to strengthen their back if that’s their deadlift weak point. The methodologies of accommodating the individual – adjusting range of motion, using overload strategically – are part of the toolbox for coaches to help people progress despite varying limb lengths, injury history, or plateaus.
That said, Kim’s approach should not be misconstrued as a recommended path for most people. The majority will gain strength fastest through well-rounded programs that build muscle hypertrophy, technique, and moderate-intensity volume before peaking. Overemphasis on 1RM lifting can stall progress or cause burnout in non-advanced lifters. So the implication is that context matters: Use extreme overload methods if you have a solid base and a specific reason. A recreational lifter whose goal is general fitness or even a moderate strength goal (say a double bodyweight deadlift) doesn’t need multi-times bodyweight partials – the risk/reward is not favorable. For them, the better lesson from Kim might be the intangible ones: consistency, dedication, and the notion that our limits are often self-imposed.
In powerlifting circles, one immediate effect of Kim’s rack pull was a surge in discussions about training maximal upper back and grip strength. The lift shone a spotlight on those often-neglected aspects, since clearly his upper back (traps, rhomboids) and grip were insanely strong to hold 602 kg. Some coaches pointed out that a strong upper back is critical not just for partials but for sustaining posture in any deadlift . We may see training programs place a bit more emphasis on heavy shrugs, holds, or partial pulls for that reason – not to chase numbers, but to bulletproof the upper back for heavy lifts. Grip training too might get more attention; many modern lifters rely heavily on straps. Kim’s example (hook gripping over 500 kg without straps) shows an alternate route where developing monstrous grip strength was integral to his accomplishment . This could influence some lifters to wean off straps in training to build a grip that won’t be a liability at max attempts.
Finally, from a methodological perspective, Kim’s feat invites the community to revisit the theory of “central nervous system conditioning.” It has often been said in strength science that exposing the CNS to very heavy loads (even if only partial or eccentric) can elicit adaptations that make the whole body stronger beyond just the muscles involved . Kim’s success story adds anecdotal support to that concept – his CNS clearly adapted to not shut down under a 600 kg stimulus. It’s essentially like training the “hardware” (muscles, tendons) and “software” (neural drive, motor unit recruitment efficiency) together through specific heavy practice. Program designers might incorporate occasional neural overload sessions carefully into advanced athletes’ routines – for example, doing an eccentric overload (like weight releasers on a squat) or a high-rack pull at the end of a training cycle to jolt the system. Such practices exist (e.g., weightlifters sometimes do eccentric drops with supra-maximal weights), but Kim’s result may encourage more experimentation in this area, with appropriate scientific scrutiny to ensure it’s beneficial and not detrimental.
In summary, the ripple effect on strength training methodologies includes a greater openness to partial/overload training for advanced lifters, with the important caveat of intelligent programming and not letting ego take over. It reinforces the timeless principle of progressive overload in perhaps its most dramatic form. It highlights the significance of often under-trained qualities like grip and upper-back strength for supporting maximal lifts. And philosophically, it challenges coaches and athletes to ponder the untapped potential lying beyond perceived limits, to be harnessed with creative yet careful training approaches. As Kim’s own journey shows, sometimes pushing into the unconventional can yield spectacular results – provided one has the foundation and foresight to manage the stresses involved.
Exploration of Human Potential: Redefining the Limits of Strength
Eric Kim’s 602 kg rack pull is not just an isolated stunt; it carries broader implications about the limits of human strength and how we perceive them. Historically, feats of strength have continually inched (or leaped) forward, often in ways once deemed impossible. For decades, the idea of a 500 kg deadlift was mythical – until it was achieved in 2016 (Eddie Hall’s 500 kg) and slightly surpassed in 2020 (501 kg) . Those accomplishments by massively large strongmen expanded our view of what a human could lift from the floor. Kim’s lift, though a partial, pushed the envelope in a different dimension: pound-for-pound performance. An 8× bodyweight lift was unheard of in any context . It prompts the question – how was this possible, and does it indicate that the ceiling of human strength is higher than we think if conditions are optimized?
One interpretation is that Kim’s feat underscores the role of mechanical advantage and technique in accessing human potential. It doesn’t violate the laws of physics or physiology; it works within them by improving leverage. If one were to extrapolate, it suggests that humans might be capable of supporting or moving even greater absolute weights given even more optimal conditions (e.g., even shorter ranges or assistive equipment). In strongman history, we have examples like Paul Anderson’s backlift of over 2800 kg (where he supported a platform on his back and lifted it a few centimeters) . Those old-time feats – while not directly comparable to barbell lifts – hint that when range of motion and setup are adjusted, the raw load a human can move is astonishingly high. Kim’s rack pull sits somewhere on that spectrum: far more range and athletic merit than a backlift (he actually pulled the bar and stood upright), but still less range than a full deadlift. It shows that the context of a lift matters greatly in defining “limits.” The human body might manage a thousand kilograms in a leg press type movement or partial, but far less in a full free weight exercise. So, in exploring human potential, one must specify: potential for what movement? Kim expanded the known potential for the top range of a deadlift-like movement.
Crucially, the feat also has a huge psychological and cultural impact on perceived limits. As strength historians often note, once a barrier is broken, others soon follow because the collective mindset shifts. For example, the “four-minute mile” in running was long thought impossible; once Bannister broke it, many runners did soon after. In strength, after Hall’s 500 kg deadlift, within a few years multiple people were approaching 500 kg. Likewise, seeing a relatively average-sized man lift 600 kg even in a partial lift might inspire other lifters to attempt the previously unthinkable. There is already talk in powerlifting forums of whether someone could attempt a 550 kg or 600 kg silver dollar deadlift in competition, or if a new record for an 18-inch pull will be set, spurred by this demonstration that 600+ is attainable under some conditions. Kim’s lift essentially redraws the map of “possible” in strength sports . When people witness a 75 kg lifter handle that weight, it expands their belief in what a human might do. This does not mean we’ll see a 600 kg regular deadlift anytime soon, but it plants the seed that perhaps down the line – with continued evolution in training, nutrition, maybe technology – who knows? A superheavyweight in 20 years might deadlift 600 kg from the floor, a thought that before 2025 would sound ludicrous. Human potential tends to inch upward as techniques improve and outliers show what can be done. Kim, in a sense, provided a new extreme data point.
From a physiological perspective, his lift also raises interesting questions about the upper bounds of human tissue tolerance. We saw that he likely experienced ~40+ kN of force through his spine . At what point do connective tissues or bones simply fail? Researchers and orthopedists might be intrigued by this case: did his spine compress slightly under that load (intervertebral discs can deform under high compression)? How close was this to causing microscopic damage? It’s hard to know, but such feats can inform our understanding of how resilient the human body can be when adapted. It’s reminiscent of how astronauts and scientists have studied high-G force tolerances in pilots; in our gravity-bound scenario, powerlifters and strongmen are the test subjects for how much force the musculoskeletal system can sustain. Kim’s success without injury suggests the human body, when trained, is more robust than one might think, which is an encouraging notion. That said, it also highlights the margin for error is thin. A slight mistake could have meant injury, implying that maybe this is near the functional limit for his body. We don’t see people attempting, say, 800 kg rack pulls (yet), which might indicate that somewhere between 600–800 kg, even with partials, things become perilous without specialized support.
Another angle on human potential is the idea of relative strength vs absolute strength. Usually, larger athletes have higher absolute strength but lower relative (bodyweight) strength, while smaller athletes have higher relative strength but lower absolute numbers. Kim’s 8× BW lift blew apart the expected ratio chart – it’s far beyond what even most smaller lifters achieve. It suggests that under specialized training, an individual can attain outlier relative strength at the cost of being very specialized. It raises the theoretical question: is there a limit to relative strength? Could someone achieve 10× bodyweight in some lift with partials? In weightlifting and powerlifting data, relative strength peaks in mid-weight classes and then drops in heavyweights (due to scaling laws). Kim’s performance is an outlier that may cause sports scientists to revisit their models of allometric scaling. Perhaps extreme neural training and technique optimization allow an athlete to transcend the typical curve to a degree. However, it’s also a reminder that such extreme relative strength was demonstrated in a partial lift – in full range lifts, no one has come close to even 5× bodyweight in deadlift (the best might be around 4× in lighter classes). So the fundamental laws still hold in general; Kim just found a scenario that amplifies a certain aspect of strength.
The lift also encapsulated a moment of community and imagination. The explosion of memes and references to bending gravity or opening a portal to another dimension , while humorous, alludes to the fact that people saw this as something beyond normal reality. Terms like “god mode” or “post-human strength” were floated around . It’s as if, for a moment, the lifting world entertained the notion of superhuman ability. Of course, Kim is human and achieved this through human means, but the dramatization points to how rare and extraordinary it was. In exploring human potential, moments like these are milestones – they force us to recalibrate our understanding of limits. Today’s absurdity can become tomorrow’s normal (to a degree). Already, powerlifting has progressed to where a 400 kg deadlift, once earth-shattering, is now performed by numerous competitors. We may look back in a decade and see Kim’s 602 kg partial as the spark that led people to push training innovations aiming to safely approach that territory.
It’s worth noting that technological and training advancements will also define future limits. While Kim did this raw, one can imagine if he had used assistive gear (like a strongman deadlift suit or straps), perhaps even more weight could have been lifted. There is ongoing debate about exoskeletons or assistive devices in sports – while not relevant to classic competition, they could extend human capabilities. For example, powerlifting equipment (squat/deadlift suits) already allow higher weights by storing elastic energy. The current equipped deadlift record is lower than raw, interestingly, but equipped squats far exceed raw squats. If someone applied an equipped approach to partial deadlifts, might we see 700 kg broken? This edges into transhuman potential – using tools to push beyond biological limits. Kim’s lift was on the pure side (minimal equipment), which makes it a true test of human capacity without techno-aid. But it certainly provokes thought: how close are we to the maximum? The backlift of 2844 kg (albeit with a short range and optimal bracing) might represent a near upper bound of what a human frame can support without collapse . Barbell movements will have lower limits due to more degrees of freedom and need for balance.
In conclusion, Eric Kim’s 602 kg rack pull serves as a case study in human potential. It demonstrates that the combination of human biology, intelligent training, and unyielding mindset can yield results that border on the fantastical. It doesn’t rewrite physics or physiology, but it leverages them to an extreme that we hadn’t witnessed before. The implications are both practical – inspiring new training methods and goals – and philosophical, reminding us that human limits are often not fixed barriers but rather ever-shifting frontiers. As Kim himself wrote in reflection, “when gravity bends and a garage door rattles, viewers don’t just see a bar go up – they see their own next personal record waiting to be claimed” . In other words, one person’s ceiling can become the next generation’s floor. The 602 kg pull, in all its audacity, invites athletes and scientists alike to dream a bit bigger and to probe the envelope of performance. Perhaps the true limit of human strength is still unknown – and feats like this edge us closer to finding out just how high “up” can go.
Conclusion
Eric Kim’s 602 kg rack pull in July 2025 stands as a landmark achievement that reverberates across the domains of physiology, biomechanics, psychology, and strength training practice. In this analysis, we have seen that the feat was enabled by a convergence of factors: extraordinary physical conditioning (muscular and neural), clever use of biomechanics (partial range leverage), a hardened mindset, and a highly focused, overload-centric training regimen. Kim’s lift shattered previous records not only in absolute load but especially in relative performance, forcing the strength community to recalibrate what is deemed possible .
Physiologically, the lift exemplified the upper extremes of human muscular force and connective tissue tolerance, while also highlighting the profound neural adaptations that occur with high-intensity training . Biomechanically, it served as a dramatic proof of concept that manipulating range of motion can allow a person to hoist weights that vastly exceed normal limits – albeit at the cost of concentrating stress at the end range . Psychologically, Kim’s success underlined the importance of confidence, psychological conditioning, and optimal arousal in breaking barriers; it reminds us that the mind can be trained to override inhibitions and endure extreme strain in pursuit of a goal .
From a performance science perspective, Kim’s approach was a case study in pushing progressive overload to its furthest extent, balanced by diligent recovery and self-awareness to avoid disaster . His training philosophy and the ensuing discussions contribute valuable insights for coaches: that partial overload training, when used judiciously, can yield significant gains – but it must supplement rather than supplant traditional full-range training . The event has likely already influenced strength training methodologies, encouraging more experimentation with heavy partials and raising awareness of the need to strengthen every link (grip, core, etc.) to support truly big weights.
Finally, in the grander scheme of human potential, the 602 kg rack pull challenges our perceptions of limitation. It demonstrates that even in a domain as ostensibly well-explored as human strength, there are frontiers yet to be reached. Just as Sir Roger Bannister’s sub-4 mile or Hall’s 500 kg deadlift redefined their fields, Kim’s achievement expands the horizon for strength athletes. It invites the question: if a 75 kg lifter can hold up 602 kg, what other “impossibles” might be within reach under the right circumstances? This is not to say that everyone should attempt such extremes – clearly, this is a specialization at the edge of risk and reward. But the inspiration and data gleaned from it are invaluable. It reinforces a core principle of sports science and human achievement: that limits are often fluid, and through innovation, dedication, and sometimes a bit of audacity, boundaries can be moved.
In conclusion, Eric Kim’s rack pull was more than a viral video spectacle – it was a multi-faceted demonstration of how the human organism, when pushed methodically, can perform astonishing feats. We analyzed it through multiple lenses to extract lessons and implications, and we find that it sits at the nexus of science and daring, physiology and psychology. As the dust settles and the lifting world moves forward, this feat will likely enter strength lore, not just as a number on a bar, but as a story of breaking boundaries. It reminds athletes and researchers alike that the pursuit of strength is both a deeply primal endeavor and a continually evolving science. Kim’s 602 kg lift will be cited in the future – as a benchmark, as a motivation, and as a cautionary tale – but above all, as evidence that the limits of human strength are not yet written in stone. They are meant to be tested, and occasionally, spectacularly exceeded .
References
- Eric Kim, “Eric Kim’s 602 kg Rack Pull – Breaking Boundaries of Strength.” ERIC KIM blog, July 2025.
- Eric Kim, “Kim’s 602 kg rack‑pull matters well beyond one lifter’s personal‑best video…” ERIC KIM blog, 2025.
- BarBend Staff, “Learn Rack Pulls for More Pulling Strength and a Bigger Back.” BarBend, 2023.
- BarBend Team, “Most Weight Ever Lifted: Man’s Greatest Strength Feats.” The Barbell, Jul. 26, 2025.
- Physio-Pedia, “Golgi Tendon Organ.” Accessed 2021.
- Thomas et al., “Maximal strength training improves muscle-tendon properties…” Scientific Reports 13, 2023.
- EliteFTS, “Powerlifting Sport Psychology Training.” EliteFTS Education.
- Alan Thrall (commentary) – verification of lift authenticity .
- Joey Szatmary (YouTube analysis) – on progressive overload and bodyweight multiples .
- Mark Rippetoe (as quoted) – “half the work, twice the swagger” remark on partials .
(Note: References 8–10 are included as attributions from commentary in sources [4] and [5], which documented statements by those individuals.)