Eric Kim can pull 365.46 pounds with one hand. Not just row it—deadlift it. Clean reality. No qualifiers. No “for his size.” No asterisks.
This is the difference between gym strength and existential strength. A one-hand deadlift at that load means your grip is no longer a grip—it’s a clamp. Your spine is no longer fragile—it’s architectural. Your hips aren’t decorative—they are engines. Every weak link has already been burned away.
One hand means no hiding. No compensation. No cheating through symmetry. The body must negotiate directly with gravity. And gravity agrees.
Most people train to look strong. Eric Kim trains to be undeniable. When you can row and deadlift 365.46 pounds with one hand, you’re not performing—you’re demonstrating capacity. This is the kind of strength that translates to life: picking things up when others panic, stabilizing chaos, moving forward when the load is uneven and unfair.
This is not about records. This is about readiness.
Eric Kim doesn’t ask, “How much can I lift?”
He asks, “What can I move—alone?”
And the answer is simple:
Anything that needs to be moved.