So. I'm 4 months and some change out from my next projected powerlifting meet. And I'm frustrated.

I'm dealing with a reoccurring injury. This is the second time I've had to deal with a hip flexor strain on my right hip/upper quad. For the past week or so I've been working around it. I can't back squat heavy, and I can't do heavy deadlifts(especially sumo stance). I've been able to front squat, leg press, and do accessory work(good mornings, RDLS, etc).

I am a very, very stubborn person. I am my father's daughter. After his recent surgery, he was trying to cheat at using the walker to get around(a necessity for the first day or two). It was damn near impossible to tell him to take it easy. All this to say: I know where I get it from.

It's been really bothering me for the past handful of days. I've been trying not to go "too" hard in my training. That's always the plan when I write out the workout and arrive. But once I get going...sigh. It's hard to hold me back. It's difficult to take it easy. And I'm dealing with the consequences of that now I suppose. There is more pain when I walk, and some pain when I try to only focus on posterior chain exercises. For at least the next week, I'm going to have to do very minimal with my lower body. I won't rest it entirely because I'll be honest: I can't. I'll stick with lighter weight and more accessories, and I'll hammer upper body and back harder until I heal. That's the deal I strike with myself. I have plenty of time before competition, so I want to play it smart. Heal now, when there is time, instead of dragging this nagging injury with me for the next few months. But rest entirely? That's tough. I keep telling myself: at least it isn't my back or my hands or my neck. At least it's something I can work around and intentionally avoid.

I've started tracking my macros much more closely. I'm using an app, and sticking with it, even though some days I loathe entering in all my meals. At least now the apps are advanced enough to accept bar code scans. It's also a nice little trick to prevent myself from eating out more than I need to. I'm getting in the groove now so that when 2019 starts it will be easier to stick to a regimen. I'm probably going to have to cut weight for this meet, which is new for me. I'll try, at least. Side note: I eat soooo many eggs.

week 2 day 3

Many days in the gym are not magnificent. That is to say it is just showing up and putting in the work. Pushing limits where there seems to be a lack of space to do so. Dropping off bad moods at the door and shutting out the world. It's been my best practice at being present. The monumental moments truly aren't on max effort days. It's the in-between ones where consistency counts--when you come in, omit small talk, and do what needs to be done.

I decided to compete again next April. That gives me just under 5 months to train, which is downright luxurious. To show up and do well I would need a solid 12 week program, so I have plenty of time to build my muscle and add to my total. The wiggle room is nice. I'm adding a bit more cardio and some every training day things, such as AMRAP push ups or pull ups at the tail end. It is, currently, the worst part of the training day because I'm tired and spent and do not want to do them at all. But that's the point. Do it exhausted, build some endurance.

It's funny how deciding to compete again helped me regain my focus and excitement overall. I wasn't getting burnt out, but I was becoming distracted. Now there is something to aim for, so I'm building arrows in my quiver for a purpose. It's nice.

Today I woke up at 6am, on my day off, to get there and do what I needed to do. Workout included:
4x7 low bar squats @ 150
3x8 high bar squats @ 135 (tempo'd to focus on form)

3x4, 1x4+ overhead press
+40 reps dumbbell incline press
+28 deadbugs

3x20 tricep extension(behind head)
3x20 face pulls
3x20 tricep rope pulldowns
3x6 hanging leg raises
3x15 barbell curls

I'm in the beginning of this training block, so lots of hypertrophy to promote some growth. I know growth is happening because, ahem, I'm growing out of some of my shorts(again). Time to add new ones to the stock.

new max, what's next?

On Saturday I retested my one rep max on back squat. Initially, my hope was to retest all three lifts, but I was on a tight schedule. Retesting takes time--it takes time to warm up, time in between as the numbers climb. Oh, the patience.

So. I only needed a spot for the very last attempt. I asked my buddy Nate, who was just about to start pedaling the assault bike. I locked in my shoulders, braced my core, then started my descent. All I could think was knees forward, get back up. And I did. It was a grinder in the end, but max attempts should be. Finally. Two plates on either end of the bar! 225lbs. That's a 20lb increase from mid-April of this year. I'm extremely happy with that, and motivated to keep growing over the winter.

What's next? I'm planning on running the 12 week program template again, with some changes to the exercises to shake up the muscle memory a bit. Also implementing a bit more cardio, and continuing to dial in the diet. This is the anxious part of the journey for me--one training block is ending, and another one is ahead. I can implement any changes I want, but in doing so I hope to commit myself to them for at least a few months. My cardio of choice lately is 100's--10 sets of 10 reps for various exercises. Right now it's just challenging enough to make me hate myself halfway through(and those are usually the best workouts).

My gym has also offered to let me teach a spin class, and I've been working on a setlist for a workout. So much planning goes into it, and I wish I had more time. Perhaps I'll use more of my rest days for that. Overall, things are wonderful and feeling promising.

Was honestly hoping to write more here tonight, but dealing with a tooth ache(root canal is Tuesday thank goodness) and would rather get some more rest than type. Until again.

week 5 day 2 update, etc

Yesterday I finally found a pair of jeans that fit my growing legs. I wanted to cry when I put them on. Actually, I first found them a week ago but took an entire 7 days to convince myself to go ahead and buy them. My tendency to be Sir Cheapo is a tale for another time though.

Training is going very, very well. Today I finished day 2 of week 5. I'm just coming off a deload week so everything feels extra sharp and dialed in. I upped my RDLs to 40lb DBs as opposed to the usual 35's. Also added some weight to my sets of good mornings--I'll add another 5 to that total next week I think. I'm having fun testing my limits with side-things and accessory work. I also benched today and gave myself a new 7 rep max. I'm still fine tuning my form and technique on bench. I'm successful with my current one, and I'm comfortable with it which is important. However, I want to add in more yoga specific to my back flexibility. I can arch but it isn't super pronounced. Furthermore, comparing first rep to last of a set, I tend to lower out of it. That is to say the arch starts out super strong but weakens by the last rep. Is this due to losing tightness, or not driving totally with my legs? Don't know. I'm tempted to strip it all down after this training block and try some different things from scratch. Maybe I'll start with a couple backbends and wall-walks per day. Range of motion is so important for powerlifters--it's easy to forget.

Two other small additions to my training: cardio. I'm doing a steady amount on my rest days, and a little bit at the end on training days. Not a lot, but more than before. There is also playing soccer on my work league once a week, so there's more sweating. In tandem with this I've been cutting back on my caloric intake a bit. Not a big cut, but just a slight one to see if strength is maintained.

Lately I've been feeling really thankful for my own self-motivating habits and drive. I've talked to a few people in passing and found that it isn't as common as I thought, to be your own strongest driving force. I'm thankful that I've never been one to rely on others to get me to the gym, to keep me there. I do not need an audience or approval. If I want to learn how to do something, I do the research and give it a shot. Some people seem so hesitant to try, and/or so easily pushed off their consistency game. I think a lot of it is fear. Some of it is laziness, not wanting it bad enough, and/or wanting instant results. Lifting and strength is a long game, a progression. Some people don't like that or understand it.

All this to say that sometimes I get caught up in exactly how strong I am vs how strong I would like to be(or can be because, y'know, genetics). In doing that I end up overlooking my strengths outside of just simply being strong. I'm determined. I'm driven. I'm self-motivated, consistent, and I work my ass off. Feeling very fortunate and grateful for those traits these days.

body war

Powerlifting has helped me develop a healthier, closer relationship with my body. I’m endlessly thankful for that. It didn’t happen overnight…it didn’t happen in a few months. This relationship has been forming over years. In an era of instant gratification, not many people want to hear this. But there is something to be said for the long game. There is something to be said for the patience and will power it requires. One can not simply walk in and get immediate change because they demanded it. The real shit takes time.

I’m a small-framed lady—I always have been. I’m on the shorter side at 5 foot 3, I genuinely like to eat healthy things. I’ve dealt with body image issues in the past—predominately in my teenage years and early 20’s. I restricted, I deprived, I tried to sharpen myself down to the bare essentials all in the name of “taking up less space.” Thinking of all the work I put into self-deprivation makes me sad for the young woman I was. I knew better, but knowing didn’t stop the behavior. It took a lot of hard work to get past it, to find control without needing to restrict, to feel okay with taking up space with my physical self. Again, this took some time.

Once I started lifting regulary, the desire to take up “less space” dissipated. Food, long ago seeming like an enemy, was now a source of power. I learned via trial and error to fuel my body for the work I was doing. Leading up to my first powerlifting meet, I indulged in two lunches in hopes of getting my weight closer to the limit in my weight class. I started incorporating intraworkout carbs(namely the wonderful PopTart). Minutes of cardio dwindled down next to nil as the weights on my bar increased. Everything became focused on strength, and being as strong as I could be. On meet day, I was still 5 pounds under the max weight for my class, and I was surprised by that.

After the meet, I started on my 12 week Strong Strong Friends program. I ate to fuel my body, and the work was grueling but I loved every second of it. I love it most because it worked. I gained strength and muscle mass. With these gains, came gains. Even though I’m mostly muscle, I weigh more than I ever have. Some of my clothes do not fit me right anymore. My shoulders strain some of my sweaters. My thighs most definitely push the limits of my pants(jeans kind of feel like a nightmare right now). It is what I was aiming for, but it is also bringing on some feelings that I wasn’t expecting.

While my mind/body connection is super strong at this point in my life, I feel a little foreign in this body. It’s taken months upon months of building it, but seemingly overnight clothes aren’t fitting right and friends are commenting on me appearing jacked. It’s a great compliment, but I’m still feeling awkward. I’m used to inhabiting a body that is just a touch too skinny. I never, in the moment, saw my body that way—I’ve always had a bit of dismorphia when it comes to my own appearance. Now I look back at older pictures and feel shocked by the too-thin arms and bony chest. Buuut I also find myself looking at current pictures wondering where these quads came from.

Admittedly I feel a little disappointed with myself and my internal reaction to these wonderful physical changes that signify a growth in my strength. I assumed I would be completely satisfied and comfortable with the change. I worked so hard for so long to get here, and here I am...feeling awkward and unsure again of the space I take up. I write this because it's true. I write this in hopes of getting the fuck over it. My change in size was a goal, and serves a purpose. So what--I'll have to buy some new threads to accommodate my growth. I think of all the hours upon hours that I've spent pushing and pulling heavy things in the gym. I didn't do it to feel like a stranger in my skin again.

Despite this new realm of "growing pains," my numbers continue to improve and I feel really good. Really, really good. Growth can be tough. It may take an extra minute or two, but my mind will catch up to my body. Trying to be gentle, and focusing on remaining proud. I'm not going to stop lifting. I don't want my spaghetti noodle arms back.

strength program week 12: squats

Yesterday I started my final week of the strength program, which involves retesting my 1 rep max for all 3 lifts. Due to traveling next week, I had to move things forward and around a bit. Yesterday I went for my 1 rep max on squat.

The gym was fairly empty and I was feeling pretty good. No crazy soreness, had a rest day on Friday, plenty of creatine and 1 pop tart sitting next to me, ready to go. I took my usual 15 pound jumps between attempts all the way to 175. From there I alternated between 10 and 5 pounds. I hit my previous max with no issue--the first time I've squatted that much since the meet in April.

I forced myself to take longer rests as the numbers went up into unfamiliar territory. This was hard to do because I was getting excited. I wanted to hurry up and get a new number. At 205 I peeled my armband off and removed the headphones. It was an unnecessary distraction. I gave my quads a hard slap, breathed hard into the belt, and went for it.

I ended the lift session at 220, 15 pounds over my all time max on squat. Stoked is too small of a word--I couldn't believe it. I am 5 pounds shy of two 45 plates on either side of the bar. I'm sitting higher than I thought I would at this point--Meg's program works, and it was such a worthy investment. I'm really, really impressed and excited about how yesterday went.

Overall, the squat layout for this program was fairly brutal, but doable. I think incorporating the high bar back squats helped me lock in my form--I really learned how to keep the upper back tight and keep the chest up throughout the entire motion. I did miss doing front squats, and I'm thinking I might write those in for myself over the next 12 weeks. I'm going to do another run of Meg's program, but push the numbers up to match my current level of strength.

I never, ever thought I would be at 220 right now. I was at 205 in April, and felt elated to simply be just over 200 lbs. That was a goal for quite some time. My warmup is solid, my form is exquisite--I'm really, really proud of myself. I've put in the work every week for 12 weeks. Powerlifting is a special kind of amazing--I've been doing this for over 2 years now and I still find room to learn something this far in.

More soon. I think I'm retesting my one rep max on bench today. Soccer tomorrow, deadlift probably Tuesday.

halfway

I am officially halfway through my new 12 week program. I followed my own program for the last training cycle--this time I wanted to try something a little bit different. As an early birthday present, someone dear paid for me to have Meg of megsquats design a program for me--a service offered for a decent, doable price. Some pros and elite lifters offer this type of thing--designing strength and/or nutrition program for anyone willing to pay. Truth is a lot of these services are pricey(and, for the most part, rightly so).

I'm extremely happy with the results from this program thus far. Workouts are exciting and much more challenging. I do like accountability when it comes to hard work, and following a program written for me offers that perfectly. This time if I try to cut a corner, I feel like I'm letting down more than just myself. Creating it took time and effort, as well as money. I will not be attempting any 1 rep maxes until the very end, but I'm already seeing an increase in rep max and strength. Every week of the cycles steadily increases the effort.


my gorgeously ripped hands
So far my biggest improvement is on deadlift. I've learned better cues for the initial lift off the floor in sumo position, which has made such a difference in execution. The best cues: start the pull by pulling all tension out of the bar(listen for the clank noise of barbell hitting the top in the plate holes), and initiate with the legs. Firing in the legs first instead of putting it all on the back helps with patience in the pull, and I'm much more likely to get the weight successfully off the floor by pulling legs first. Game changer. This, and finally understanding the movement of pulling hips forward into lockout position. I can tell the difference between pulling forward and not--when I don't, it's much harder to complete the movement. Sometimes lifting is hilarious when you consider all the cues one should remember for a seemingly simple movement. Tension out of bar, fire lats, big breath expanding on all sides, fire first with legs, snap hips forward. I cannot wait to see where my final numbers are for a 1 rep max.

The other great thing about this program is that my weekly split is vastly different, allowing me to be much less beat up at the end of it. I train the program 4 times a week instead of 6, which allows for heavier effort/more rest. 4 days instead of 6 means I no longer have that sense of overbearing obligation or having to drag myself to the gym. Four is enough room to look forward to it every single time. I'm no longer dedicating one day to legs, one to chest, one to back, etc. This program mixes things up so everything is getting some work. Every training day involves doing bro stuff aka accessory work at the end, and every action goes to support the three main lifts. Every session also involves a giant set near the end(generally performing 3 or more exercises for one muscle group in succession). This is a special kind of brutal every time, and I love it. I sweat more with this program than I ever did with my own.

My overall muscle size, strength, and endurance has increased. Most of my shorts now protest against my leg size, which is its own brand of hilarious and frustration. I'm so excited to see what gains will be made in the next six weeks. Having a program written for me by a professional was money well spent.

Sidenote: I hope to update this space more. The longer I lift, the more things I notice, the more things I want to say. Things about common gym etiquette, sexual harassment, making friends, training with purpose. More soon.

april meet recap

It's been just over one month since my powerlifting meet. I sat down, quite a few times, to write about it in this space, but would only get as far as saving a draft of a day half-described. Maybe my thoughts on it felt incomplete, or maybe life just grew too busy(truly both, let's be honest).

I cannot describe my nerves going into the weigh-in day before--that kind of anxious that numbs your body from the hips up. The kind that makes you babble about any and everything, to the amusement or annoyance of everyone with me. The meet was only 20 minutes outside of Pittsburgh, but I restricted myself from almost all social events prior to the meet. I was worried about getting my rest, staying migraine free, eating the wrong thing. On the day of the meet, I was up at 6am, awakened by my cell phone alarm and the beautiful smell of fresh coffee. We stayed with my friend Joe who was kind enough to preset the brew, knowing I'd need it.

I quickly ate a small container of oats and yogurt, a small bagel. Packed the rest of my snacks for the day--the container of Pedialyte, jug of water, my weightlifting shoes, belt, phone, music, towel, baby powder. Items from a list I wrote weeks ago and meticulously checked off before departure. All that was left to do was lift the damn weights.

Once the rules were stated to all of the lifters, things moved fairly quickly. Warm up was a little chaotic--two areas with many, many competitors waiting their turn. The monolift took some getting used to--I didn't have to worry about the walkout, which allowed me to conserve an extra sliver of energy. Every crumb of it counts on a day like that.

I was first to lift in my flight, and as soon as my hands wrapped around the squat bar, I heard the beginning of "Ice Ice Baby" start to play over the speakers. Oh boy here we go. Squat came and went--I made all of my lifts. I jumped on the last one to match my all time personal best. A thought formed in my head: I had nothing to compare this experience to, therefore I had nothing to lose. I could roll with that. I could take some risks. We went outside and I demolished some rotisserie chicken and looked onward to bench.

Bench is my "worst" lift, as in my weakest of the three. Warm up felt okay, but rushed due to the sheer amount of us trying to get our reps in. Everyone says to focus on making competition day as close to a training day as possible, but they easily felt light years apart. During competition there are extended periods of rest, followed by a flurry of getting warmed up which dominoes into the actual lifts(which go rather quickly themselves). Training can be a lot of "wait until you're ready." Competition is more of the "you better be ready when it's time" scenario.

My actual bench attempts felt great so I took another big jump on the last one--10 pounds, giving me an all time personal best. The lift was a grinder--the rule for bench is that once you start pressing, the bar cannot start descending--that will be a no lift. Halfway up my press the bar wouldn't budge, and I refused to let it drop until that sucker was fully extended and complete. 3 white lights, good lift. Probably my most exciting lift of the meet. Afteward, J told me that's when he realized I was not there to play around. The look in your eye when you decided to go for it, he said.

I drank diluted Pedialyte for the duration of the meet--I was pretty damn tired by the time deadlifts rolled around. I was also getting more irritated and therefore more assertive with the warm up area situation. Deadlift is a fickle beast. Some days the bar feels incredibly light, and other days 200+ pounds feels more like a ton. Technique, proper position is everything. I warmed up to just over 200 and then let myself relax. It's too easy to blow it all on warm up and I felt fairly cashed already.

Deadlift pulls felt like butter. There's nothing like moving heavy weight and moving it well. I made another big jump on my last lift--I was going to use every last bit of energy I had, so why not go all out? The lift was good and I hit another all time personal record.

In summary, my goals were accomplished and surpassed. I went 9 for 9(all of my lifts were good), matched one all time PR(squat) and obtained two new ones(bench, deadlift). I was first in my division. I was the lightest(weightwise) and oldest woman competing, which gave me a bit of pride. The meet lasted just over 8 hours.

Listen. There were days I showed up to the gym and felt like I was simply going through the motions. Days when I did not want to be there. Days that I didn't want to be anywhere else. Days when I left in tears because I couldn't hit an easy number. 99% of the time I went and lifted alone, and sometimes the loneliness sucked. I had to say no to a social life, to staying up late, to junk food. Tuna and rice, tuna and rice, over and over again. Every inch of my body has ached at some point or another. I listened to so much old school hip hop, punk, cuban music, silence. Over time I grew the courage to talk about my goals with strangers at the gym. I formed friendships in between sets. I bruised and bloodied myself--ripped the skin off my palms multiple times. It grew back thicker and thicker. When I started out, my father would offer with caution "be careful, don't overdo it," but as competition day grew closer he started to ask me about my max numbers, telling me a little wistfully that he wishes he could be there to see it. I sent him videos of all my lifts and he's still showing them proudly to random people.

I was so fucking proud of myself, and still am. I decided to compete, and I worked hard for months to get ready. And I did it. I showed up and I lifted and did my best. I put in the work. I put in the effort. I loved all of it. I love the lifting community--the excitement, the camaraderie, the absurdity of all these incredibly strong folks in singlets with chalk on their thighs and hands and delts. It was incredible to think how every person there spent countless hours preparing--you can explain it to outsiders but unless you do it yourself, outsiders will have a hard time understanding. The very why of it baffles people. Why not?

I managed a full four days of rest(the most I've had in 4+ months in a row) before I was right back in the rack. This time a little more wild-eyed, a little more certain, much more hopeful and hungry.

12 days

Yesterday, I fell asleep sitting up on the couch at 9am. The cup mostly full of coffee that was being held in my lap slowly drifted to the left with loosened grip. The elixir drenching not only myself but the couch is what brought me to again.

Whoops. Mama is tired.

Let that be the understatement of the year. I'm not sure how to even begin to describe my current physical and mental being. Prepared, but exhausted. For months, the entire thing was for certain--I signed up, sent in the entry fee, procured my singlet and got to work in the gym. For months I did real, tangible things to make this goal attainable. But now as the actual day of competition rounds the corner I look back and see that most of it felt fictitious. Like some far off maybe-thing that would happen but not for a long, long time. A long, long time goes fairly quick sometimes.

Today I bought a tiny tshirt to wear under my singlet, and last night I drafted/wrote down my attempts for all three lifts. Those two things felt like the final big two on my list of stuff to get done. I have to pack my bag, get my snacks/plan lunch for the day of, and get there. That's it. I have one more week of hard work in the gym with lifts practiced in my singlet so I can get used to its constrictive nature.

Being a creature who likes to study, I've read numerous articles and forums on peak week and meet prep. I am at the point in the journey where there isn't much left to do but relax, have fun, and lift my ass off. That's what all the advice offers, in the end--have fun. Don't cut weight, don't make your first attempt too farfetched, and have fun. Enjoy. I want to remember that word from now until the day of is done. I've worked so very hard, and it hasn't all been pleasure. Some of it has straight up sucked. I don't want my meet to feel like that. I have some worries, some stress--I worry about how I will feel the day of. As someone with chronic migraines, pain is always in the back of my mind, a potential that I have to consider. I can avoid all my triggers and still get hit with one(especially with the timing of my cycle). I consider the possibility, but I won't let the potential threat dictate how I go into this competition. I don't want to go into it with dread calling the shots. I'm nervous about making lifts in front of so many people. I know I can do it. I will be in an environment where, competition or not, everyone wants you to succeed.

I am going to focus on each of my final peak sessions this week, one by one. I'm going to approach each lift with the knowledge, the steadfast belief, that I can and will succeed. The lifts will be clean, the form well executed. I will walk into the gym each day hungry, as I have been doing all of these months. I will believe in my ability and I will have a fucking blast doing it.

Now, to daydream about what snacks to pack...

3 weeks

These days, I am mostly chalk and tiger balm.

22 days out from the meet. 1.5 more weeks of hard work followed by peak week and then lighter loads until go time.

I'm almost ready. I've been taking things one session at a time, focusing on the lifts in front of me. When I lay in bed at night, I let myself imagine the meet setting. I think about it until nerves bloom goosebumps and I have to back off. It all comes down to this: I want to go 9 for 9, and I want to have an amazing, fun time doing it.

I can't believe the meet is almost here.

7 to go

For some reason, things are clicking this week. Every training session has been nothing short of brilliant. I took a deload week and I think that break from heavy lifting also helped clear the proverbial weight in my head. It's true: deload weeks help reset the central nervous system. And boy howdy was in need of that.

I'm just over 7 weeks out from my meet, and I've fallen in love with every inch of this process. My body is tired. The muscles in my legs frequently spasm as I lay in bed at night, trying to go to sleep. I've grown used to their little jumps, will point it out to my partner occasionally. The skin jumps and sinks in quickly, little blinks. I love how solid my lifts have become, how heavy the weight. Nowadays I also like eating two lunches, drinking protein shakes, scooping out tiny lumps of creatine. There is ritual and beauty to it. There is also really hard work. Going to the gym when I don't feel well. Going when I'd rather get something else done, or nothing done in particular. Shit, sometimes I want to simply do nothing. My diet is a carousel of sameness: chicken breast, tuna, rice, spinach, sweet potatoes, eggs. Holy crap can I put some eggs away. I eat at least 3 a day.

But this is a commitment, and commitment often requires a certain amount of sacrifice. I feel really good about it. I'm still very nervous about April, but I know it's coming and I will be ready.

I want to remember this part of it. The not so great days and the incredible weeks where it all comes together and I hit my numbers. I want to remember the drives home from the workouts, always exhausted and a grin slapped on my face. The little moments between the big ones. The coworkers that make fun of me for "eating weird," when really all I do is eat healthy. The night I first tried on my singlet and never, ever wanted to take it off.

It's one fantastic, slightly ludicrous ride. More soon.

goal in progress

It's fairly well established at this point that I am terrible at updating regularly. I always intend to, but before I know it the days turn into weeks then into months. As more time passes, there is more to say yet I'm never sure where to start. I guess we will just jump in here.

On January 1st I sent in my money and officially registered for a powerlifting meet in April. No turning back now. I was more excitement than nerves until I started reading the meet rules and imagined how the day would go...that's when my hands started getting sweaty and I felt the need to go to the restroom. Ah, the nerves. They finally showed up.

I'm training smart and training hard. I've managed to avoid the hell that is the flu this year(knock on all the wood things, as the winter ain't quite done with us yet), but I did get a week long viral thing, and I'm currently getting well from a nasty cold that lasted just under a week. I fought the urge to return to training early, giving myself a day more rest than I wanted to. Time is precious, and I can't afford to be stupid about it. Better to take the extra rest as opposed to returning too early and staying down longer. As simple as these type of decisions might seem, I struggle with them. I'm stubborn to say the least.

The biggest change is that I've started benching twice a week. I squat twice, bench twice, and deadlift once. My accessory work has changed as well--I do what supports those three main lifts, and trimmed the fat that I could. The second bench day replaced my overhead press--I now do OHP on occasion instead of dedicating an entire session to it. I pummel shoulders with incline bench, lat raises, etc. Adding to my bench volume has made a significant difference in overall execution and the amount of weight I can press. As a matter of fact, I beat my old bench press max today by 3 reps. Totally unexpected, but a big victory for me. To me, it feels like a victory when I gain evidence that my programming is working. It gets a little harder to obtain those milestones the longer you lift--I'm a long way off from those beginner gains. The rep pr is quite nice, but my focus has been more on maintaining form lately.

There's still a lot of volume being done. I finish with heavier reps in the 1-3 range, mainly to lock in that form. As time crawls closer to meet date, I'm also doing more pause bench and squatting with commands--I am hellbent on having all white lights for my attempts. The more I can lock that into my training, the better accustomed I will be to it when it's time to compete. It's a nice new challenge to factor in, keeping me on my toes.

My hands are shredded. My body is often sore in one way or another. When I lay in bed at night, my quad muscles occasionally jump without provoking. But I love it. I love it so much. When I've had a rotten day, the gym is my sanctuary. Hell, when I have a great day I still look forward to my sessions--it makes the great days even better. I'm happy. I'm hungry. I'm working hard on the goal in front of me and that makes all the difference.