Would you just LOOK at the SIZE of the biceps on that dude?
https://youtu.be/zW4y0WzSWiIUnless you also share the same kind of era-specific special interest of strongman, you probably don’t know of the behemoth on the left. That’s Manfred Hoeberl, an Austrian Strongman competitor in the mid-90s, known for his 26-inch biceps. Bandana-clad and big-armed, he cut a characteristic figure among his strongmen peers, making him an eminently watchable competitor.
Of course, being in Iceland, I rooted for Magnus Ver Magnusson, as one does. But Manfred had the strongman LOOK.
And then there’s me on the right. I can barely fit my hair into a bandana, and I’m not as well-known for my biceps.
Through absolute happenstance, I caught an episode of one of my personal favorite YouTubers: Big Loz Official – an English strongman whose commentary, insights, and content just ticks all of my special interest boxes. He finally landed an interview with Manfred, one whom I’d been wanting to hear from for a while.
What does this have to do with autism, HUNTER?
Among the many anecdotes he shares, Manfred recalled being a half-point ahead of Magnus Ver in the 1994 World’s Strongest Man competition heading into the final event. And not only was he leading prior to the event, he led during the event (Atlas Stones).
Until he made a fatal mistake.
Well, not literally fatal.
He looked over.
To see how Magnus Ver was faring. Breaking focus. Checking out the competition. Side eyeing for a split second.
Magnus took the event and the title, winning the event only just, and the competition by a single point. It was the closest Manfred came to a title.
I’m paraphrasing, but Manfred remarked that THAT was the decisive moment. Where his claim to glory was snatched away a glance askance.
I’m guilty of that too.
Where I compare my experience to peers. To other creators. Even to other autistic professionals. To those lifting their own Altas Stones, where I should be focused on my own.
That’s never a winning move.
My Atlas Stones are mine own. I’m my own competition, not others.
My autistic experiences, joys, successes, failures are not a competitive event.
It’s hard not to fall into this trap, for my autistic brain and soul to seek additional inputs, vectors, data to frame whether or not I’m “doing well” or “doing good.” For all my innate hyperfocus, I am equally strong in zeroing in, but also perilous when I zero out and break the turbolaser beam of me and my own word.
Manfred’s advice: “You do you.”
True words there.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see if I can apply some similar wisdom to my biceps.
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One thought on “Lessons in Autism from an Austrian Strongman Legend”
I wonder, how did he handle high school? Did he have his current brawn back then to assist him with bullies, etcetera? Any substance ab/use?
Autism spectrum disorder accompanied by notable adverse childhood experience trauma can readily lead to chronic substance abuse as a form of self-medicating. If the adolescent is also highly sensitive, both the drug-induced euphoria and, conversely, the come-down effect or return to their burdensome reality will be heightened thus making the substance-use more addicting.
Perhaps not surprising, I have yet to find a blog that dares to delve into (what I call) the very problematic perfect storm of psychological/emotional dysfunction — i.e. a debilitating combination of ASD and significant ACE trauma (and perhaps even high sensitivity) that results in substance abuse.