In general, I am not stronger than Mr. Maryn, but my thick legs are. We once rented one of those Swan Boats in Boston and he simply could not pedal any more after a while. In order to get back before they charged us for another hour, I pedaled the two of us. No sweat. Literally. It wasn't even hard and I was somewhat mystified that he could not go on.
In a related incident many years ago, before my knees became crap, I used to work the weight machines at a gym. As usual, upper body needed lots of work and saw very slow improvement, but lower body got real strong. So one day I've finished the leg press and wiped it down like a good gym member and am just standing there waiting for the next machine in the circuit to be free.
This body builder, totally ripped, and shirtless despite gym policies requiring a shirt, sits down at the leg press without even changing the settings or checking the weight it's set to. He puts his feet in position, presses, and the plate stack lifts about three inches before he drops it with a loud clang that makes everybody in the room look at him.
"Who's playing tricks, setting this thing so high even I can't lift it?" Most of the people--it's largely men, by coincidence only--shrug and don't reply, but a few who know I was the one kind of smirk. He literally grabs the front of the closest smirker's T-shirt demanding he confess, so even though I'd finished with the machine, I got back on and did another set, really watching my form. Fifteen reps, no problem at all, since I'd had a little rest. It's probably time to add another plate.
Mr. Body Builder stormed out red-faced. It was the highlight of my time being a gym member.