For most fans, Mitchell Hooper is known simply as “The Moose,” the reigning World’s Strongest Man capable of lifting weights that seem almost impossible for the average person to comprehend.
But long before he stood atop the strongman world, Hooper was an entirely different type of athlete: He tried golf, marathon running, football, even endurance sports, but nothing that would signal any indications that he would one day become one of the strongest humans on the planet.
That perspective may be what makes Hooper one of the most compelling voices in strength sports today.
While many athletes define themselves solely by their accomplishments, Hooper speaks openly about his own mental health struggles, along with fatherhood and the evolving purpose behind his pursuit of greatness. It’s a mindset that was on full display following his appearance at the Enhanced Games, where he narrowly missed a historic 505kg deadlift, but emerged as one of the event’s most thoughtful ambassadors.
The Insecurity Behind the World’s Strongest Man
Despite standing at the pinnacle of strength sports, Hooper admits that confidence wasn’t always part of his identity.
When asked which version of his younger self would be most surprised by his success, Hooper didn’t point to his teenage years or athletic prime. Instead, he reflected on his childhood.
“I think myself at five to 10 years old would be the most shocked,” Hooper says.
While many future professional athletes grow up believing they’re destined for greatness, Hooper remembers being unusually self-aware as a child. The dreams of playing in the NFL or NHL never felt realistic to him.
Ironically, it was later in adolescence, while battling insecurity and other mental health challenges, that he developed the confidence that would eventually propel him to elite competition.
What were his biggest moments of self doubt? “Being fat,” he admits without hesitation.
The confession feels almost jarring coming from a man who regularly dominates international strongman competitions. Yet Hooper says those feelings lingered for years and were often accompanied by severe social anxiety and panic attacks.
He recalls wearing hoodies to school daily, not for style, but to hide excessive sweating caused by anxiety during one-on-one conversations.
Even today, he believes many men silently struggle with similar thoughts but rarely discuss them publicly.
Why He Refuses to Pretend He’s ‘Cured’
As Father’s Day approaches, conversations surrounding men’s mental health continue to gain momentum. Hooper has become one of the rare elite athletes willing to discuss his ongoing struggles with complete honesty.
What separates his message from many others is that he doesn’t position himself as someone who has figured everything out.
“I’m not cured, and I still struggle a lot,” Hooper says. “I manage to put one foot in front of the other.”
For Hooper, that’s an important distinction. Too often, he believes mental health conversations are framed by people looking back from the finish line, offering advice from a place of recovery. But for many people, the battle isn’t something that simply disappears.
“Most people and influencers I hear talk about it, talk about it in a way where they’re cured, and this is how you can get better,” he explains. “If I can say, ‘I’m not cured, and I still struggle a lot,’ maybe that helps somebody.”
The two-time World’s Strongest Man says he has never found much personal relief from talking publicly about his own mental health. Instead, he views those conversations as a way to connect with people who may feel isolated in their struggles.
“It really doesn’t help me to talk about it. It never has,” Hooper admits. “But I think it could help some other people.”
Reflecting on his teenage years, Hooper recalls using ambition as a way to overcome those feelings.
“The mental health difficulties coincided with me also believing that I could do anything,” he says. “That’s my justification to overcome feelings of inadequacy.”
Today, he feels a responsibility to use his platform to show a more realistic version of success, one where personal struggles can coexist alongside professional accomplishments.
“As I grew more of a following, and I feel like I’ve been blessed by so many gifts. Having an audience, being the World’s Strongest Man, all these things that I really didn’t intend to do. I feel like I have to match that blessing with some sort of good on the other side.”
For Hooper, that “good” isn’t offering a miracle solution. It’s extending what he calls an olive branch to anyone who may still be struggling and reminding them that progress doesn’t require perfection.
“The honest conversation could help other people,” he says. “And I think that’s worth it.”
Fatherhood Changed Everything
The shift became even more apparent recently when Hooper filmed content with fitness creator Jesse James West, who is preparing to become a father himself. When asked what advice he would give a new dad, Hooper shared a reality that many fathers quietly experience.
“As a new dad, you have to be ready that the first six months are not very fun for you,” Hooper says. “Not that it’s fun for mom, it’s less fun for mom, but I had an expectation that we’d have a baby and immediately our family would be enriched by this beautiful life, and we’d all be pulled together.”
The reality, he explains, is much different.
“The baby wants mom, and mom needs to tend to the baby, and oftentimes you can’t do a whole lot,” he says. “You add a family member, and you’re kind of less useful.”
While that adjustment can be challenging, Hooper says it also forces fathers to develop a new perspective on responsibility. Suddenly, success isn’t measured solely by personal achievements, prize money, or podium finishes.
“You think about the world differently,” he explains. “Now I have to provide. If things go bad, it’s not me or my wife figuring it out. It’s now a dependent who you have to make sure everything’s OK.”
That realization brought a new kind of anxiety into Hooper’s life, but it also reinforced a lesson he believes every father needs to learn.
“The challenge is appreciating the moment without thinking about what’s happened in the past and what could be in the future,” he says.
Then, with the kind of practical advice only an experienced dad can deliver, Hooper offered one final recommendation to West during their time at the Enhanced Games.
“Change the diapers,” he says. “Change all the diapers that you can, because you’re not needed for anything else.”
The comment drew laughs, but it also reflected the broader philosophy behind Hooper’s “Dad Strong” message. Real strength, he says, isn’t just about lifting weights; it’s about carrying responsibility, showing up consistently, and doing the work that often goes unnoticed.
The Enhanced Games Experiment
While much of the public discussion surrounding the Enhanced Games has centered on controversy, Hooper views the project through a different lens. In his eyes, the event serves two purposes:
First, it creates a controlled environment to study medically supervised performance enhancement.
Second, it challenges assumptions about aging and human performance.
One of the observations Hooper found most compelling was how close several athletes came to matching personal bests years after the traditional peak of their careers.
“The average age of a personal best there was around 30,” he explains.
For Hooper, that’s evidence that performance potential may extend much further than conventional sports science has historically suggested.
Just as importantly, he points out that the event was largely free of the catastrophic injuries many critics predicted.
The broader conversation, he argues, should focus less on fear and more on data.
Why His 505-Kilo Attempt Matters More Than People Realize
To casual observers, Hooper’s failed 505kg deadlift attempt may have looked like a disappointment.
To Hooper, it represented something entirely different.
Leading into the Enhanced Games, he had already won the Rogue Invitational, Arnold Strongman Classic, and World’s Strongest Man in rapid succession. The physical toll was enormous.
Following the Arnold, he struggled to move weights that would normally serve as a warm-up. During World’s Strongest Man, he required pain management interventions simply to continue competing. After the contest, walking normally became a challenge.
In the weeks before the Enhanced Games, Hooper says he couldn’t deadlift effectively, couldn’t train the movement properly, and often battled significant back pain.
Given those circumstances, simply getting 515kg off the floor became a victory in itself.
“The fact that I got it off the ground, I’m really proud of that attempt,” he says.
For strength athletes, nervous system fatigue often lingers long after muscles recover. It’s a reality that many fans underestimate when evaluating elite performances.
With a dedicated six-month preparation, Hooper believes the outcome could have looked dramatically different.
Why More Performance Isn’t Always Better
One of the more revealing moments of Hooper’s interview came when discussing a piece of equipment he often uses in competition: the Airwaav performance mouthpiece.
There’s some wild science behind it showing it can open up the airway to lower respiratory rates by up to 20%, reduce post-workout cortisol by up to 50% for faster recovery, and instantly accelerate the neuromuscular response to increase muscular force when clenching down during heavy lifts.
In fact, every single World’s Strongest Man champion for the last four consecutive years has competed wearing it. Most athletes look for every possible advantage on competition day. Hooper does too.
But his explanation highlighted the nuanced relationship between performance and longevity that has become central to his philosophy.
“I find the Airwaav increases my rate of force production and increases my power,” Hooper explains. “Which, of course, inherently will increase strength.”
For most strongmen, that would sound like an obvious benefit. Yet Hooper intentionally chose not to wear it during his heaviest deadlift attempt at the Enhanced Games.
After a grueling stretch that included victories at the Rogue Invitational, Arnold Strongman Classic, and World’s Strongest Man, his body was already operating near its limit. More power wasn’t necessarily the answer.
“Something that increased my rate of force development was going to be a major injury risk for me,” he says.
Rather than maximizing explosiveness, Hooper wanted a slower, more controlled pull, one that reduced the likelihood of aggravating injuries he had been managing for months.
“I didn’t wear it for my max attempt because I was hoping for a slower, smoother pull,” he explains. “I didn’t want to absolutely yank on the bar and cause myself an injury.”
The decision reflects a level of maturity often overlooked in elite sports. While fans tend to focus on bigger numbers and record attempts, Hooper increasingly evaluates performance through the lens of sustainability.
His goal wasn’t simply to lift the weight. It was to leave healthy enough to continue competing, continue providing for his family, and continue building a career beyond a single moment on the platform.
In many ways, that mindset mirrors his broader perspective on health, fatherhood, and even the Enhanced Games itself: Performance matters, but only when it can coexist with longevity.
Looking Beyond Strength
Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of Hooper’s perspective is that he rarely views health through a single lens.
When asked about concerns surrounding performance-enhancing substances, he quickly points to what he believes are bigger risk factors in his own life: family history of cardiac events, bodyweight, cardiovascular fitness, and overall lifestyle considerations.
It’s a nuanced position that reflects his educational background and willingness to examine performance through a broader scientific framework.
Whether people agree with his views on enhancement or not, Hooper believes the future conversation should focus on evidence rather than emotion.
“The number one thing people should be concerned about is my genetics,” Hooper says. “My dad and his parents both had cardiac events in their 50s. That’s far away the biggest concern of me existing on the planet right now. Second to that is that I’m obese. I’m 330 pounds right now. Then under that is my total exercise volume. Under that is my cardiovascular fitness. And below that is PEDs. So if we want to have an honest health conversation, why are all the questions about this one thing and not all these other things that are much greater concerns in my opinion?”
And if the Enhanced Games ultimately contributes meaningful data about longevity, performance, and quality of life, he believes the experiment will have served a purpose far greater than setting records.
For a man who once thought he’d never play professional sports, let alone become the strongest man on Earth, that larger mission may be the most surprising chapter of all.
