When you think of weightlifting, you might picture a sleek gym with rows of barbells, mirrors, and protein shakes. But the roots of this sport are far grittier, and far more communal, than the modern fitness industry would have you believe. Weightlifting didn't start in a gym. It started in the back of a tavern, where working men gathered to test their strength, share a pint, and revel in the camaraderie of competition.

In 19th-century Europe, weightlifting was a pastime for the working class, farmers, loggers, miners, blacksmiths, and stevedores who spent their days hauling, hammering, and heaving. These men, hardened by labour, took pride in their physical prowess. After a gruelling day, they'd converge at the local tavern, not just for a drink but to prove who was the strongest.

Tavern keepers, ever the savvy entrepreneurs, saw an opportunity. By placing simple weights, fixed-weight globe dumbbells, barbells, or kettlebells, in the back of their establishments, they turned their taverns into makeshift arenas. The rules were straightforward: lift a heavy barbell overhead, press a dumbbell as many times as you could, or swing a kettlebell until your arms gave out. These contests weren't just about strength; they were about endurance, bragging rights, and keeping the patrons entertained, and thirsty.

The equipment was basic, often crafted by a local foundry, and the lifts were uncomplicated. A barbell clean and press or a one-arm dumbbell push was easy to understand, even after a few beers. Contests often focused on repetitions rather than maximum weight, turning the events into marathon displays of grit. Picture a group of 20 or 30 men, each taking their turn at a 100-pound barbell, trying to outlast one another while the crowd cheered and the ale flowed. For the tavern owner, it was a win-win: hours of lifting meant hours of drinking, and the modest cost of a barbell was quickly recouped in beer sales.

What began as a working-class ritual evolved into something much bigger. By the late 19th century, weightlifting contests were formalised, with the first Olympic weightlifting events appearing in 1896. The sport grew, but its essence remained: a celebration of human strength and resilience. Today, weightlifting is a global phenomenon, from CrossFit boxes to powerlifting meets, yet it retains a core truth from its tavern days: you don't need much to get started, just some weights, a bit of space, and a desire to push your limits.

The story of weightlifting's origins reminds us that fitness isn't confined to a gym membership or high-tech equipment. Those early lifters didn't have personal trainers or smartwatches, they had each other, a shared sense of pride, and a barbell. Modern weightlifting can still capture that spirit. Whether you're pressing a kettlebell in your backyard, lifting rocks like me in the bush, or joining a local gym's lifting club, the act of lifting connects you to a tradition that's as old as the taverns where it all began.

So next time you pick up a dumbbell, and for us older ones it should not be heavy, imagine yourself in a smoky 19th-century tavern, surrounded by cheering workers, testing your strength not just for yourself but for the joy of the challenge. That's where weightlifting started, and it's a legacy worth carrying forward.