CAMP ZAMA, Japan – Chalking his hands, Gabe Simpkins was not fazed by the half-ton of iron he was about to tame, thanks to the three C’s he had in his corner: confidence, close family, and the music of Chief Keef.
The soon-to-be high school senior had already completed a practice run a few days earlier of the trio of lifts — squat, bench press and dead lift — needed for induction into the elite 1,000 Pound Club at the Yano Fitness Center here.
His father, Glenn, and older brother, Sean, were with him on the morning of May 30 as he prepared to do it again with Yano staff observing and officiating. The only thing left for Gabe to do was throw his headphones over his ears and let the Keef pump-up track do its job as he stepped to the squat bar.
Before the metal met his shoulders, however, there were years of sweat already baked into the lift. Gabe’s path to this ultimate test of his strength started when he first entered high school.
A Shared Goal
Gabe unknowingly began his journey to join the 1,000 Pound Club two years ago when he was a freshman at Zama Middle High School and already on his way to excelling as a three-sport athlete for the ZMHS Trojans. Whether wrestling on the mat, sprinting down the lane during track season, or dominating the gridiron as a varsity running back, Gabe has long aimed for excellence, his father, Glenn, said.
Early in the second half of that year, Sean, who graduated in June but was then a sophomore, told his father his experience in weightlifting class had driven him to want to try for the 1,000 Pound Club. And though the elder Simpkins sibling had set the goal for himself, his father saw it as an opportunity for both brothers to train and develop alongside each other.
“Right after wrestling season in February, we said, ‘We’re gonna do this,’” Glenn said. “We came up with two different programs, and then we got both Sean and Gabe into a consistent training rhythm and kept at it.”
Gabe and Sean got right to work. They rose early for 5 a.m. workouts, four times a week. They alternated the muscle groups they worked — legs, back and shoulders one day; chest, biceps and triceps the next. Glenn knew the early mornings and endless trips to the gym would not be easy for his sons. He anticipated their commitment to the program could waver because they were working toward similar but separate goals. But his concerns evaporated as soon as he saw their dynamic as a training team emerge.
“As an individual, it can be hard to motivate yourself sometimes, but when you have a partner, there’s a certain level of accountability,” Glenn said. “There may have been days where they didn’t feel like training, but they had to think, ‘Well, but my partner’s going to be there.’ And that’s what got them up and out the door.”
The brothers continued training and lifting strategically year-round during sports and in the offseason, and even through summer break. Gearing up for football season in the fall meant focusing on building their strength and agility. After that were wrestling and track, where muscle endurance, speed and flexibility are key.
Some mornings it was a challenge for Gabe to stick to the grueling regimen, but he quickly learned that whenever his motivation waned, his biggest supporter was ready to step in.
“The biggest push I got was from my dad always waking me up in the morning telling me, ‘Hey, we have a goal for your brother. We have to get this done,’” Gabe said. “So even when I didn’t feel like it, he was always there to give me the extra push I needed.”
Beyond the paternal drive Glenn had to see his sons succeed, he also brought with him meticulous planning and personal experience. He tracked their progress and made it clear to his boys that they would be doing weight training rather than bodybuilding, which is more of an aesthetics-focused discipline. Glenn was also a power lifter when he was an officer in the Army, so he knew how to tailor their workouts to best suit Sean’s tall build and Gabe’s smaller frame.
“We were like, ‘Let’s do this properly,” Glenn said. “It’s like a golf swing: You can hit a thousand balls, but you’ve got to learn to hit it straight and hit it far — to hit it right.”
To best prepare Sean and Gabe, he researched web videos to learn about optimal feet position when lifting. He incorporated the method of explosive bodyweight jumping known as plyometrics to help them build muscle fiber faster. He joked that he “bought enough protein powder to put somebody else’s kids through college.”
Sean and Gabe continued their training through last fall when they started their senior and junior years, respectively. Neither brother wanted to let up, but Sean soon found the requisite preparations and social commitments of graduation were consuming more of his time. So, he made the tough but necessary decision to sideline his goal of joining the 1,000 Pound Club. Sean’s father and brother understood his choice, but it didn’t make the pill any less tough to swallow, especially considering all the hard work the three of them had put in.
But the iron they had moved over the last two years hadn’t just built Sean’s strength; it had quietly transformed Gabe’s, too. While Gabe’s primary focus had been pushing his older brother toward the 1,000-pound threshold, all that training had serendipitously packed serious power onto his own 150-pound frame.
Unwilling to let their shared sacrifice go unrewarded, Gabe looked at his own climbing numbers and realized a surprising truth: He was within striking distance of the goal himself. If Sean couldn’t finish the final lift, Gabe decided he would step up to the bar and finish it for both of them.
Shifting the Weight
Instituted at Yano in 2015, the 1,000 Pound Club was devised to give the fitness community at Camp Zama a tangible milestone to strive toward. Stefan Thompson, the chief of Fitness, Athletics and Aquatics here, calls it “the ultimate benchmark for our most dedicated lifters.”
“Physical readiness is inherently tied to the military lifestyle, but we wanted to create a specific goal that required long-term discipline, structured programming and mental toughness,” Thompson said. “It gives our patrons a reason to push their limits and builds incredible camaraderie within the gym.”
To call the 1,000 Pound Club an elite group of lifters is not an understatement. Thompson says it is an exceptionally grueling undertaking that requires months or years of strict nutrition, recovery periods, and of course, a lot of heavy lifting. Those who complete the challenge have their photo taken and tacked to a board that hangs on the wall of the weight room. Less than 80 photos have made it onto that wall in 11 years.
“You cannot fake your way into the 1,000 Pound Club,” Thompson said. “The barbell doesn’t lie, and the physical toll it takes to reach those numbers weeds out anyone who isn’t fully committed.”
Gabe was nothing if not committed, having immediately embraced the goal on behalf of his brother. And Sean seamlessly transitioned into the support role Gabe had long held for him. As Gabe continued to train, Sean watched as his younger brother proved himself ready for everything this challenge would demand of him.
“I think if people just look at the weight on the bars, they won’t see the 30 seconds before each lift that Gabe takes to let the music sink in and pump himself up,” Sean said. “Lifting more than two times your body weight, like Gabe does, can be a very big mental block for some people, so you definitely need to prepare yourself.”
Glenn was similarly confident his son could go the distance. The final stretch for Gabe came after the end of wrestling season. He continued to train, Sean continued to support him, and their father continued to observe Gabe’s progress and refine the program until the day of his attempt finally arrived.
First up was the squat. Including the bar, 380 pounds of iron — more than 2.5 times Gabe’s own weight — pressed down on his shoulders. Gabe recalled his cautious confidence in that moment: “I was a bit nervous at the time, but I told myself, I’ve done it before, so it shouldn’t be that hard.”
He took two steps back from the rack and drew a breath, bracing his body against the weight. He began his descent and when his hips sank below parallel, he exploded back up to a standing position. He cleared the lift.
Taking his position on the bench next, Gabe laid horizontal and stared up at a bar racked at 225 pounds. Pressing this weight, an impressive 1.5 ratio compared to his own, would put Gabe past 600 total pounds lifted.
He lowered the bar to his chest, held it there, and waited for Thompson’s command of “Press.” Once he got it, he drove his feet into the floor, pushed the weight back up, and locked his elbows out. Glenn, serving as his son’s spotter, re-racked the bar for Gabe. He cleared the lift.
Gabe’s final hurdle, the dead lift, was where he would make his money. Sitting in front of him were 400 pounds he needed to pull from the floor up to his hips, and then lower back down in a clean, controlled motion.
He approached the bar, lining it up over his mid-foot. He gripped the bar, dropped his shins to meet it, and pulled the slack out of it as he rose. But at the apex of the lift, Gabe lost his grip and the bar slipped out of his hands.
Thompson recalled that Gabe took a moment to refocus and have a brief, hushed conversation with his dad before stepping up again: “Gabe approached the bar with a quiet composure. He knew his numbers, trusted his training, and executed perfectly under pressure.”
He cleared the lift.
Joining the Club
“You could feel the anticipation in the room,” Thompson said. “When Gabe finally locked out that last lift and got the official nod, the sense of achievement was hard to mask on his face. It was a proud moment for him and his family.”
Gabe had not only just successfully joined the 1,000 Pound Club. As a high school junior, he became the youngest person so far to complete the challenge at Yano. His photo now hangs on the wall in the weight room, a testament to a brotherly bond and a shared dream that Gabe carried over the finish line.
“It was a feeling of relief, knowing that all the hard work I put in paid off and I was able to achieve a goal I’d been wanting for me and Sean for two years,” Gabe said.
But even with his name etched into Zama history, the young athlete has already set his sights on what’s next. With his senior year and final high school football season on the horizon, Gabe plans tojoin another exclusive club. His aim is to surpass 1,000 again — not in pounds on a barbell, but in rushing yards on the gridiron.