I got to start this post with a confession. I am in love. She is gentle (and rough when the time is right), caring and gets me up when I am down. She might be European, too. I know what you’re thinking:
That’s a reasonable guess. I’ll give you that. But she is known as Powerlifting. They say that you find out how much you love something when you lose it. Did I lose her?
You might’ve already guessed it. This post is a love story. But how will it end?
My day was turning out great, most bug fixing on my workout app went smoothly and I was preparing my bike for a friend of mine.
The last couple of days were pretty crazy. I was sleep-deprived. None of that mattered I was hyped for today’s workout. I was doing a deload week and decided to try 1RM@RPE 8-9 on the deadlift. 200kg (440 lbs) was the target weight.
I was training for a year and a half, never missed a session and was waiting patiently for this lift. What’s funny is that I started lifting for entirely different reasons. I guess I got hooked on the way and my goals have shifted.
To be honest, I love all power lifts. Constantly challenging yourself and winning with new PRs is addicting. Will I get another fix?
The attempt wasn’t even hard, maybe the monstrous amount of caffeine running in my system did its job. Now the day was just perfect!
I was planning on good night sleep, starting right after I drop my bike to my pal. On my way, something unexpected happened…
I was in a hurry, riding on the road I’ve been 20+ times already. Then I saw my steering wheel getting away from me? I was hoping for something like this:
Nope, after finding some blood on my head, and saw my hands shaking, I decided that it might be a good idea to visit the ER.
Fast forward two weeks, a couple of days in the hospital, 2 broken ribs and my all-new perfectly glued head, I’ve started missing training.
I’ll define an injury as drop of performance under the bar. I was determined to find out whether or not I am injured. On week 3 I went for a “workout”. It was a shitshow.
Deadlifting, squatting or benching the bar was a big NO. Well, I started modifying and settled for machines that allowed for “tolerable pain”. Thanks to Jordan from Barbell Medicine for the advice.
On week 4 I was able to deadlift 100 kg for 6 reps, but wasn’t able to sleep much after that. Tolerable pain can be too much of an abstract concept for dumb meathead like myself.
There were ups and downs on the next couple of weeks. The desire to hit or even beat your previous numbers is constantly competing with the fear of pain.
Rebuilding my confidence under the bar took some time. I started benching without pain only a week ago. But this week was great.
I might need to stay away from heavy singles for another month or so. But here what’s going down this week.
I put 3 plates (140 kg) on the squat and prepared myself for 6 reps (rep PR). “What would happen if my ribs don’t hold up?“. Sometimes you got to smash that. I unracked the weight and started squatting. Everything went smooth. I also pulled 170kg for a set of 6 on the next day. Beltless.
I am a pretty calm lifter, but those PRs put a huge smile on my face. I might’ve danced around the gym for a bit.
I am pretty much “back”. My bench needs a bit more work, but I did 40 kg dumbbell incline bench press for a set of 8. Things are looking great.
There you have it, a real-world love story with a positive ending. Being in love is a great feeling, don’t take it for granted :)
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