As a child, Mark Bell acquired the unfortunate, if sometimes accurate, nickname of "Smelly."

He was the shy, fat kid in his upstate New York town, so out of shape by age 11 that he could barely run the length of a football field during Pop Warner tryouts. And, yeah, he was picked on. Neighborhood bullies sought him out.

Then came a bullying incident that transformed Bell's life and body in equal measure, that set him on a career path that included a stint as a professional wrestler and now as a world-class powerlifter, that saw him play a lead role in "Bigger Stronger Faster," a recent documentary about the role of steroid use in athletics.

And it also led Bell to open his dream gym in downtown Sacramento. It's called Super Training, ground zero for serious, no-nonsense lifters in Northern California.

Yes, for all that, Bell can thank some punk kid named Joe Garlup. One day, Bell was tossing around a New York Jets football in a local park when up rode the older dude on his BMX bicycle. Picture it: Garlup, sporting a major mullet and bad attitude, was as chiseled as Bell was puffy. It was 20 degrees out, but Garlup wore a "wife-beater" T-shirt to show off his biceps.

He yanked the ball away from Bell and kicked it well into the woods. The ball was lost, but Bell found a purpose. He began lifting weights with his older brothers, first using Hulk Hogan's Hulkamania Workout Set, then more sophisticated apparatus. Every repetition in every set, he thought about Joe Garlup.

Fast-forward five years: Bell, now 15 and 240 pounds of muscle, finds himself at a neighborhood party. There, across the room, is Joe Garlup.

"He barely recognized me," Bell recalls, laughing. "He was like, 'Don't kick my ass, man.' "

Bell took him out, quickly and cleanly.

"Yeah, I got him back pretty good," he says. "It was sweet revenge."

That story aside, don't draw the conclusion that Bell became the bully he once feared. Rather, he has used weight-lifting to build self- esteem and strength – and teach others to do the same.

Though a solid mound of flesh at 6 feet, 310 pounds, Bell, 31 and a father of two who lives in Woodland, is a genial giant. Downright docile, even.

He's open and talkative, quick to chortle and offer an anecdote. When he takes off his black ball cap and rubs the nubs of his black-haired scalp, you get a glimpse of that erstwhile awkward child tormented by the Joe Garlups of the world.

Such is Bell's lack of guile that he is one of the few powerlifters – or athletes in any sport, for that matter – who has acknowledged using performance-enhancing drugs. His frankness during interviews in his brother Chris' documentary "Bigger Stronger Faster," which drew critical raves, has raised Bell's profile in the sport.

Actually, his profile was pretty high, anyway. Last month, he set an American record with an 826-pound bench press. He is a two-time winner of the California State Championships in the United Powerlifting Association and will go for a third title Dec. 6 in Concord.

He also is among the top five nationally in a sport that involves the squat, bench press and dead-lift. (Powerlifting is different from the Olympic sport of weightlifting, in that the latter features events such as the clean-and-jerk that require speed, form and strength. Powerlifting is almost strictly strength.)

"It's weird," Bell says. "(People) come up to me and say they've tried (steroids), say it like a confession. People were a lot more understanding than I expected. I haven't had any negative feedback from it.

"It's part of this culture. Even for the fans, they may not want to believe it but they kind of know. The bodies and the strength are so out of proportion. And for people not in (powerlifting), I think the movie opened their eyes and made them think there's more people involved than they thought."

Scott Cartwright, Bell's rival and training partner, said Bell expressed what everyone in the sport already knew.

"It was a message that had to be told," Cartwright says. "Yes, there are side effects and bad things that could happen. But it's like any drug. You can take it and be OK. But you can abuse it and blow yourself up, too."

Call The Bee's Sam McManis, (916) 321-1145.