Bill Taylor tried raising his left arm above his head. It hurt to watch him. He has trouble changing a light bulb above him or tying his shoes below him.

Yet the Lake Station police officer won the American Powerlifting Federation nationals competition last month in Grand Rapids, Mich., with a 523-pound bench press for his age group and weight class. The win also got him an invitation to the world championship in Finland this November.

“I’ve been lifting since high school,” Taylor said with a shrug of his massive shoulders.

Making his recent victory even more impressive, he did it just 18 months after undergoing a total right shoulder replacement. And just before that, surgery for a torn biceps muscle. He also faces shoulder replacement surgery for his left side, which isn’t in too much pain but has the range in motion of a statue.

“I can get it about this high,” Taylor said while bouncing on his lap his 4-year-old granddaughter, Madison.

Taylor, 51, is a small mountain of a man. He’s the meanest-looking, nicest-talking cop in the area. He rarely finishes a sentence with strangers without a “sir” or a “ma’am” tossed in. I’ve told him repeatedly to just call me Jerry. He replies, “Yes sir, Jerry.”

Taylor, who was born and raised in Lake Station, has been a cop in that city for more than a quarter century. His current weight is about 240 pounds higher than his badge number, 55, his high school football jersey number. He bulked up for the national’s competition by eating five “power meals” each day for weeks.

“I feel just miserable at this weight,” he said. “It’s more than 25 pounds where I could be.”

To demonstrate just how much weight he’s gained, he stares straight down and sighs.

“I can see both of my facial cheeks,” he said. “I can’t stop sweating. And my uniform no longer fits.”

Like a handgun in a holster, powerlifting has always fit into his life. He’s been lifting competitively for 20 years, winning the nationals competition for his age and weight three times, and the world competition once, in 2014. He has qualified for the world competitions in previous years but he couldn’t afford the trip.

“I think I would have done pretty good there, though,” Taylor said, politely asking his granddaughter, who he calls “Nugget,” to stop interrupting him.

She didn’t listen.

I’m guessing most everyone else listens to Taylor, who works out at Illiana Power Asylum in Hammond. He credits his trainer, Christian Anto, of Highland, a competitive powerlifter who has gained “elite” totals in three weight classes. Anto stays competitive in the 181-pound weight class with a 1,770 total of what he can lift.

“He’s a freak of nature,” Taylor said.

Taylor tore his bicep simply by trying to open his squad car door when it was locked. He heard a pop but thought nothing of it. Then it popped again and he noticed his bicep had relocated itself. After surgery, Taylor had to start back at square one during his physical therapy. This meant using pink three-pound weights.

“It was very humbling,” he said.

And very motivating. He never gave up, despite his doctor’s suggestion that he quit powerlifting for good. Wear and tear is catching up to his body.

“I can’t quit just yet. My goal is to bench press 700 pounds before I quit,” Taylor said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “I’m still not back at full strength.”

At the latest competition in Michigan, he easily benched 523 pounds on his first attempt. It was so easy that he tried benching 575 on his second attempt. His shoulder, the bad one, wouldn’t do it. He still won the event, though, accompanied by his fiancée, Jen Infelise, who lives in Oak Forest, Illinois.

“Thanks to her, and Christian, the Lake Station FOP, and Meat by Linz,” he said, referring to the meat company in Calumet City that sponsored him.

On the morning I met with him, Taylor had just finished a grueling cardio workout to begin losing that extra weight he gained for competition.

“I’m dying,” he told me.

He figures if he simply cuts out two meals a day, he can be down to 275 in three weeks.

“At my weight, I pack it on fast and I can lose it fast,” he explained while sharing his lunch with his granddaughter.

His massive arms are not physically able to go behind his neck to hold a weight bar so power squats are out of the question. With bench presses, the bar must be lowered to his chest and back up. Imagine bench pressing, say, the weight of 65 gallons of water.

“When things get challenging with powerlifting, I revert back to what I know, just like I do as a cop,” Taylor said.

In his life, it’s not a matter of good cop, bad cop. It’s a reality of good habits, bad habits. Early that morning, before his cardio workout, he woke up in the middle of the night to down three liverwurst sausage sandwiches.

“Bad habit,” he shrugged.

jdavich@post-trib.com