Id: BorG Age: 23 || Height: 5'10" || Weight: 169lbs Starting Date: 01/16/2012 || Goal Date: 05/01/2012 Weight goals -- Going to cut then bulk up so 175 Training goals -- Current || Goal Bench -- 235 || 305 Squat -- 305 || 425 Deadlift -- 275 || 405 Press -- 115 || 155 Clean -- 155 || 225 Misc goals -- Hit 1000lb for bench + squat + dl total
Nutrition goals -- No more soda and pizza. Sleep goals -- I work 7-5 each day so my sleep schedule goals are to be able to fall asleep by 10 which has proven difficult. Misc. Goals -- Get promoted to masters league lol
Unbelievable. Today I went to the orthopedist to look after my wrist, because it just would not heal. But the office was closed until tomorrow because of vacation. I went deadlifting in the evening (probably a stupid idea), and when I come back all of a sudden my wrist is ok and doesn't hurt anymore, after 4 weeks of pain. Seems my wrist is scared of orthopedists, or deadlifting cures indeed everything. Anyway, I won't complain. My 5/3/1 progression is completely messed up now though, without pushing exercises for an entire month and this week should actually be a eload week for Deads and Rows. I guess I have to get creative now.
Squat: 310lbs - 5-3-2 OHP: 105lbs - 5-5-5 Parallel arm chin up - 8
Talked about my Squat form with some Russian guy @ the gym (who was doing something like 275lb 5x8 squats with a belt), I agreed with him that I need to keep my back more upright & my weight further back on my heels, otherwise I'm going to injure my back
Afterwards I tried staying as far back and looking up with my chest as far as possible, and my friend commented that at that point I was JUST at 45 degrees, so looks like I really need to work on staying upright and back throughout the squat!!
Never read the entire article of this before, most people will recognize the last paragraph. I really enjoyed it.
I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself.Completely.When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me "garbage can" and telling me I'd be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn't run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between classes.
Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn't think much of them either.Then came Mr. Pepperman, my advisor. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class.Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we wouldknow that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing.In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn't want to blow it.
I went home that night and started right in.Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn't say shit to me.It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I havelearned from the Iron.
I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I waswrong.When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can't be as bad as that workout.I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness.
But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr.Pepperman.Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body.Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me.
Learning about what you're made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole.I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron Mind.Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind.The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn back.The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.
Well it happened... I hurt my lower back doing squats. I don't understand how after the first 2 sets were a breeze that on the last FUCKING set on the first rep I could get stuck at the bottom and not push it back up. I tried to dump the bar but my back was already starting to round and the damage was done by the time I set the bar down on the safety rails ( I'm squatting in a power rack because my gym is to poverty to purchase a squat rack) I'm pretty sure it's just a strain but I'm going to a walk-in clinic to get some anti-inflammatory's and get it checked any ways. How long can I expect to get back under the bar again? I'm pissed. Also what can I do to keep leg strength in the mean time without aggravating the back? And is it safe to keep benching?
On January 24 2012 18:13 decafchicken wrote: Never read the entire article of this before, most people will recognize the last paragraph. I really enjoyed it.
I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself.Completely.When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me "garbage can" and telling me I'd be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn't run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between classes.
Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn't think much of them either.Then came Mr. Pepperman, my advisor. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class.Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we wouldknow that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing.In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn't want to blow it.
I went home that night and started right in.Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn't say shit to me.It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I havelearned from the Iron.
I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I waswrong.When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can't be as bad as that workout.I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness.
But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr.Pepperman.Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body.Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me.
Learning about what you're made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole.I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron Mind.Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind.The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn back.The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.
Slipped on some ice on my way home, fell on my left arm and now I have some serious pain in my wrist and elbow Shit is pretty swollen as well. I'm waiting for my cab to arrive so I can go to the hospital. Hopefully nothing is broken
On January 24 2012 13:09 Malinor wrote: Unbelievable. Today I went to the orthopedist to look after my wrist, because it just would not heal. But the office was closed until tomorrow because of vacation. I went deadlifting in the evening (probably a stupid idea), and when I come back all of a sudden my wrist is ok and doesn't hurt anymore, after 4 weeks of pain. Seems my wrist is scared of orthopedists, or deadlifting cures indeed everything. Anyway, I won't complain. My 5/3/1 progression is completely messed up now though, without pushing exercises for an entire month and this week should actually be a eload week for Deads and Rows. I guess I have to get creative now.
Maybe you just had an immobile carpal bone, and the traction from deadlifting mobilised it?
On January 24 2012 13:09 Malinor wrote: Unbelievable. Today I went to the orthopedist to look after my wrist, because it just would not heal. But the office was closed until tomorrow because of vacation. I went deadlifting in the evening (probably a stupid idea), and when I come back all of a sudden my wrist is ok and doesn't hurt anymore, after 4 weeks of pain. Seems my wrist is scared of orthopedists, or deadlifting cures indeed everything. Anyway, I won't complain. My 5/3/1 progression is completely messed up now though, without pushing exercises for an entire month and this week should actually be a eload week for Deads and Rows. I guess I have to get creative now.
Maybe you just had an immobile carpal bone, and the traction from deadlifting mobilised it?
Maybe. Though it was the third time deadlifting in the last weeks, and the first two times deadlifting did not make it better at all. So if yesterdays deadlifts helped, it was only by chance. Also the pain changed over time, I am pretty sure there were two different problems and one caused the other. Anyway, I will make an appointment with an orthopedist during the next weeks regardless.
On January 24 2012 13:09 Malinor wrote: Unbelievable. Today I went to the orthopedist to look after my wrist, because it just would not heal. But the office was closed until tomorrow because of vacation. I went deadlifting in the evening (probably a stupid idea), and when I come back all of a sudden my wrist is ok and doesn't hurt anymore, after 4 weeks of pain. Seems my wrist is scared of orthopedists, or deadlifting cures indeed everything. Anyway, I won't complain. My 5/3/1 progression is completely messed up now though, without pushing exercises for an entire month and this week should actually be a eload week for Deads and Rows. I guess I have to get creative now.
Maybe you just had an immobile carpal bone, and the traction from deadlifting mobilised it?
That would be my guess. Lunate can get stuck sometimes.
Hemorrhoid almost healed. Had to be cut by a doctor, but it's topped bleeding now and the swelling has gone down. Clot was about the size of a bottle cap. Fucking squats, why do you hate me when I love you so?
Killing me to not lift or play rugby for a week. I'm eating again though, now that i can stand to sit in the dining hall. GOGO, back on track to put on 10 pounds and squat 315 by spring break!
Hemorrhoid almost healed. Had to be cut by a doctor, but it's topped bleeding now and the swelling has gone down. Clot was about the size of a bottle cap. Fucking squats, why do you hate me when I love you so?
Killing me to not lift or play rugby for a week. I'm eating again though, now that i can stand to sit in the dining hall. GOGO, back on track to put on 10 pounds and squat 315 by spring break!
Remember, we have a date in March 2013, so you better keep eating if you want to meet me then at 220 + Show Spoiler +
Hemorrhoid almost healed. Had to be cut by a doctor, but it's topped bleeding now and the swelling has gone down. Clot was about the size of a bottle cap. Fucking squats, why do you hate me when I love you so?
Killing me to not lift or play rugby for a week. I'm eating again though, now that i can stand to sit in the dining hall. GOGO, back on track to put on 10 pounds and squat 315 by spring break!
Remember, we have a date in March 2013, so you better keep eating if you want to meet me then at 220 + Show Spoiler +
60,5lb to go
10 lbs by march. 33 more by the next march. I'll be there, don't worry.
On January 25 2012 04:32 steelANDmalice wrote: Well it happened... I hurt my lower back doing squats. I don't understand how after the first 2 sets were a breeze that on the last FUCKING set on the first rep I could get stuck at the bottom and not push it back up. I tried to dump the bar but my back was already starting to round and the damage was done by the time I set the bar down on the safety rails ( I'm squatting in a power rack because my gym is to poverty to purchase a squat rack) I'm pretty sure it's just a strain but I'm going to a walk-in clinic to get some anti-inflammatory's and get it checked any ways. How long can I expect to get back under the bar again? I'm pissed. Also what can I do to keep leg strength in the mean time without aggravating the back? And is it safe to keep benching?
Uhh what? It sounds like you just failed a set and dumped the bar... Are you in a lot of pain? Does it hurt to squat light weights?
First set of my final week of accumulation work. I foolishly planned to end the cycle with 405lbs on the snatch grip deadlift but felt beat up from the previous week so I dropped the weight to 365lbs and focused on proper leg drive (which is the main reason I do this variation). RE-load week feels soooo good right now.
On January 25 2012 04:32 steelANDmalice wrote: Well it happened... I hurt my lower back doing squats. I don't understand how after the first 2 sets were a breeze that on the last FUCKING set on the first rep I could get stuck at the bottom and not push it back up. I tried to dump the bar but my back was already starting to round and the damage was done by the time I set the bar down on the safety rails ( I'm squatting in a power rack because my gym is to poverty to purchase a squat rack) I'm pretty sure it's just a strain but I'm going to a walk-in clinic to get some anti-inflammatory's and get it checked any ways. How long can I expect to get back under the bar again? I'm pissed. Also what can I do to keep leg strength in the mean time without aggravating the back? And is it safe to keep benching?
EPT
