Bill Starr's Training

by Jim Moser | May 15, 2025

bill starr from jim moser's photographs

I was having a discussion with Rip about Bill Starr’s training, and we both concluded that in all of his articles and books, Starr had never written about his own training.

Bill Starr was one of the few athletes who excelled in all three iron sports back in the day. He was nationally ranked in the top five in Powerlifting and Olympic Weightlifting. Although he dabbled in bodybuilding, he mostly held disdain for the sport. This was the pre-Ronnie Coleman era, when most bodybuilders looked strong but were not truly strong.

Starr’s bodybuilding career began and ended with his second-place finish at the Mr. Middle Atlantic Championships, where he was runner-up to Mr. Universe, Bill March. Starr showed me a photo of him on the victory stand next to March. His traps dwarfed the rest of his body, and his long ears added to the lack of symmetry in his physique.

Training with Bill Starr

I started training with Bill Starr when I was 15 years old. We trained together in Maryland, North Carolina, Texas, Colorado, California, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Hawaii. His basic workout was consistent wherever he went, and he always trained at the same time. The longest streak of not missing a workout was a remarkable 17 years. Starr never missed a session for holidays, special occasions, or travel days. Starr was very scheduled and only traveled on his rest day, which was Saturday. He referred to it as his “slug day” – the only day he rested during the week.

The first day I worked out with Bill Starr, he had me do heavy rack shrugs at the Bel Air Athletic Club – 10 sets of five reps. After my final set, I asked him what was next. Starr replied, “Go home and come back tomorrow.” The next day, Starr had me do the same thing: 10 sets of 5 reps power shrugs, but with 50 more pounds. This routine continued for two weeks. My last set at the end of those two weeks was 405 lbs for 5 reps. Only then did Starr start coaching me.

He said he was hoping I would go away, but since I was still there, he decided to coach me. For the next four months, I did whatever Starr was doing. Coaching to Starr meant doing what he told you to do. He rarely provided feedback, having taught himself how to lift and figured things out independently until he met National Champion Sid Henry, the last person to coach him.

Starr’s Stubbornness

When I first started training at York Barbell, I asked legendary Olympic Coach Dick “Smitty” Smith if he had ever coached Bill Starr. He replied, “Starr was uncoachable. Had he listened to anyone, he could have been a world champion.” According to Smitty, Starr was one of the strongest individuals he had ever seen. Smitty also coined the nickname “Rockman” for Starr, joking that killing Starr would be easy – just tell him he must breathe.

Starr reserved Mondays for his heavy days. He would pick me up at my house on Monday at 3:30 to go train. During the drive, he drank a mason jar of coffee mixed with milk and honey, which he called “Magic Bean.”

Monday (Heavy Day)

Twists: 100
Sit-Ups (Slant Board): 100
Back Squat: 5×5 Maximum
Bench Press: 5×5
Halting Deadlifts: 5×5
Seated Dumbbell Curls: 2×15
Pullovers: 2×15
Leg Raises: 100

Tuesday

Twists: 100
Sit-Ups: 100
Dumbbell Inclines: 5×6 (Last set: 110 lbs)
Power Snatch: 5×3
Weighted Dips: 3×10
Pull-Ups: 5×10
Baby Cows (Calf Raises, Standing): 5×30 reps
Leg Raises: 100

Wednesday

Back Squat: 5×5
Bench Press: 3×5, 3×1 (Heavy)
Good Mornings: 5 sets
Dumbbell Presses: 3×10
Leg Raises

Thursday (No Weights)

Run: 10 miles

Friday

Twists: 100
Sit-Ups
Squat: 5×10
Bench Press: 5×5
Shrugs: 5×5
Straight Arm Barbell Pullovers: 3×15
Seated Dumbbell Curls: 3×15
Leg Raises

Saturday

Slug Day (Rest)

Sunday

Run: 12 miles

Bill Starr had a unique, often witty, and sometimes insulting sense of humor. Compliments were rare, and when he gave them, you knew you had done something exceptional. Starr never tolerated cheating on lifts, and you would only ask him once to judge the depth of your squat.

He was a hardheaded, relentless trainer with a dedication to consistency and intensity. Whether you wanted his coaching or not, his methods produced results – if you could endure them.

A Vintage Bill Starr Moment at MAC Barbell

One of my fondest memories of training with Bill Starr happened at MAC Barbell in Grand Prairie, Texas. MAC (the Metro Athletic Club) was home to some of the strongest powerlifters in the state.

It was a typical Monday – hot and humid, with the Texas heat working overtime. About three-quarters of the way through my session, Starr walked up to me and said, “We’ve got to hurry up. The gang’s showing up at 5:30, and I want to be out of here before then.”

I was a little disappointed – I had been looking forward to seeing some big lifts. Still, Starr grabbed his gym bag, motioned for me to follow, and we headed toward the door. The gym was mostly empty.

Just as we reached the exit, the door swung open, and in walked the Marken brothers, Dennis and Larry. Starr had told me stories about the Marken brothers from Denton. Both were incredibly strong, each having squatted over 700 pounds. They immediately bombarded Starr with training questions. He was cornered – there was no escaping now.

Next in was Clay Patterson, a National and World Champion powerlifter. Clay was one of the best 242-pounders in the world, with a total of over 2,100 pounds between the squat, bench press, and deadlift.

The platforms quickly started filling up.

What I always liked about MAC Barbell was the old-school setup – each platform was stacked with 45- and 100-pound plates. Change plates were rare and had to be hunted down like buried treasure.

Clay asked Starr if he’d judge their squats since he was already there. Starr was staying with Clay at the time, and I figured he said yes out of pure politeness. He pulled up a bench and sat quietly, watching the lifters.

He didn’t say a word until the bar hit 600 pounds. Once that weight was on the bar, Starr agreed to start judging depth. The first lifter completed his squat and looked over. Starr gave him a nod and said, “Too high. I wouldn’t have passed it.”

This continued for the next ten lifters. One after another:

“Too high.”

“Wouldn’t pass.”

“Not low enough.”

It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room. The gym grew eerily quiet. Clay's brother Doug Patterson – the owner of MAC Barbell – had been watching the whole thing unfold. Just minutes before, the room had been full of giants, chests puffed out, heads high, lats flared. Now, those same giants looked like regular men deflated and grounded, brought back down to Earth by a legend who expected more.

To be fair, I’d been around powerlifters for a while. I could tell when a squat was to depth, and of the ten Starr turned down, I’d say eight were solid and two were borderline. Doug eventually called Starr into his office and told him he was crushing the confidence of his lifters, who were preparing for the Texas State Championships. Starr smiled and said, “Mission accomplished.”

“Mission?” Doug asked.

“My mission was to make sure they never bother me again. I’m late for din-din.”

He grinned, and we turned toward the door. Just as we were leaving, one of the lifters shouted after him, “You can’t just leave without telling us what to fix! Are we not going below parallel?”

Starr turned around, walked up to the guy, grabbed him by the traps, and said, “Lose weight – you’re too chubby.” This was classic Bill Starr.

Training With Bill Starr at WFAC

The first time I trained at Wichita Falls Athletic Club with Bill Starr was unforgettable. Starr was already a living legend. Starr was staying with Rip out at the ranch. Rip, a rising young powerlifter and recent gym owner, had trained under Starr, and their mentor-student dynamic was as strong as ever. Starr liked to joke that WFAC was the second-biggest tourist attraction in Wichita Falls, right after the Falls themselves. “The World’s Littlest Skyscraper,” (look it up) he said, “comes in a distant third.”

Staying at Rip’s was just as entertaining as training at the gym. Most mornings kicked off with a battle of wits between Rip and Starr over coffee. It was spirited, relentless, and highly caffeinated. Rip made the best coffee in North Texas, and the only thing more vicious than their verbal sparring was the real stuffed piranha that sat on the kitchen table – a gift to Starr from Dr. Craig Whitehead.

But WFAC wasn’t about show. It was a place to train. I was prepping for Nationals, and the gym had everything a serious lifter could want. That day, Starr had finished his squats and was warming up for the bench press. I had just wrapped up my snatch work when he asked me for a lift-off on a top set – 315 pounds for five reps.

Now, Starr benched with military discipline. Every rep paused on the chest, elbows tucked, bar path vertical. He had no patience for sloppy lifting. If you bounced the bar off your chest or bridged your hips, and he was spotting, he’d yank the bar back into the rack mid-lift, no warning.

He had little love for modern trends. CrossFit, for example? “They can’t even put their shoes on without cheating,” he once muttered. I asked what he thought of kipping pull-ups. His answer: “They’re not pull-ups.”

Starr wasn’t just a technician – he was also a master prankster. I’d been the target of more than a few of his stunts over the years, so I saw this bench press set as my chance for some playful revenge.

He ground out the fourth rep – a real grinder – and I leaned in, full of encouragement: “You got this! One more!” He went for it. The bar came down, paused on his chest… and didn’t move.

“Take it!” he barked. He was cooked.

That’s when I sprang the trap. I grabbed the bar with a close grip and began lifting… very slowly. An inch at a time. “You got this, Starr!” I said, cheerfully. “Push!”

His eyes glassed over. His arms trembled. “Take it! Take it now!”

I just kept coaxing, drawing it out, savoring the moment. Then I made a fatal mistake. I looked up – scanning the room looking for Rip. I wanted a witness to this perfect payback. But the second I turned my head, the bar suddenly got very heavy. I looked back down, and Starr was gone.

Now I was the one stuck, holding 315lbs. a foot away from my body, arms straining, fingers trapped tight against the bench. I panicked. “Starr! Are you going to help me?”

He just grinned and walked away. “You got this.”

I was trapped. With everything I had left, I managed to tilt the bar, sending plates crashing everywhere. The gym shook. The bar whipped violently onto the bench. The plates slid off one side, sending the bar whipping to the floor with the crashing of weights. So yes, I got my revenge. And Starr got the last laugh. That day, I learned two things:

1. Never prank Bill Starr.

2. If you do, make sure you’re way stronger and more cunning than he is – or at least faster.

I always saw training with Bill Starr as both an honor and an adventure. He was a legend in the iron game, a man whose presence in any weight room instantly raised the bar, literally and figuratively.

Starr didn’t just teach me how to lift heavy weights. He shared his vast knowledge, his uncompromising standards, and introduced me to a network of incredible people – including Rip. Training with him opened doors for me across the country. Wherever I went, just saying I had been coached by Bill Starr earned me instant respect.

He was universally liked, deeply respected, and admired by everyone who mattered in strength training. I’ll never forget the day I told Louie Simmons, of Westside Barbell fame, that Bill had passed. Louie – one of the toughest men in the sport – broke down and cried for five straight minutes. When Louie finally composed himself, he said: “This is the saddest day of my life. The world just lost a giant of a man, and I lost a good friend.”

Louie was right.

Bill Starr’s Best Lifts