5 valuable lessons I learned from following my first strength training plan

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I was on the verge of a total breakdown. With moist eyes, I stared at a silver hex bar (a hexagonal barbell that you stand in the middle of, also called a trap bar) at my feet, loaded with 125 pounds. It was something I had raised several times before. Hell, I'd lifted heavier weights before, no question. But on this particular Thursday, things just didn’t click. My chest felt tight. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. A tear rolled down my cheek. I felt like the last month of consistent programming fell by the wayside. …

Ich war am Rande eines totalen Zusammenbruchs. Mit feuchten Augen starrte ich auf eine silberne Sechskantstange (eine sechseckige Langhantel, in deren Mitte Sie stehen, auch Trap Bar genannt) zu meinen Füßen, die mit 125 Pfund beladen ist. Es war etwas, das ich zuvor mehrmals angehoben hatte. Verdammt, ich hatte vorher schon schwerere Gewichte gehoben, keine Frage. Aber an diesem speziellen Donnerstag hat es einfach nicht geklickt. Meine Brust fühlte sich eng an. Ich schloss meine Augen und atmete tief durch. Eine Träne rollte über meine Wange. Ich hatte das Gefühl, dass der letzte Monat konsequenter Programmierung auf der Strecke blieb. …
I was on the verge of a total breakdown. With moist eyes, I stared at a silver hex bar (a hexagonal barbell that you stand in the middle of, also called a trap bar) at my feet, loaded with 125 pounds. It was something I had raised several times before. Hell, I'd lifted heavier weights before, no question. But on this particular Thursday, things just didn’t click. My chest felt tight. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. A tear rolled down my cheek. I felt like the last month of consistent programming fell by the wayside. …

5 valuable lessons I learned from following my first strength training plan

I was on the verge of a total breakdown.

With moist eyes, I stared at a silver hex bar (a hexagonal barbell that you stand in the middle of, also called a trap bar) at my feet, loaded with 125 pounds.

It was something I had raised several times before. Hell, I'd lifted heavier weights before, no question. But on this particular Thursday, things just didn’t click. My chest felt tight. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. A tear rolled down my cheek. I felt like the last month of consistent programming fell by the wayside.

Hard stop for some, albeit important, background information: I'm a fitness journalist, which means I not only write and edit fitness content for a living, but I'm also constantly trying out the latest, greatest, and newest workouts out there. From HIIT to hot yoga, barre to Pilates, I estimate that I typically work out nine times a week and have been doing so for about four years. Some days it's a run in the morning followed by a hot yoga class in the evening. For others, it's Barre3 to quickly meet up with a work contact before taking a lunch break to rack up marathon training miles. And by the way, I'm a seven-time marathon runner. I can walk well. Most of the time it feels comfortable and effortless. Most of the time it is my chosen path to de-stress and relax.

To date, I have followed more race training plans that I can rely on every finger and toe. But until January 1, 2019, I had never followed a structured strength training plan.

After running the New York City Marathon last November, I knew I had to take a step back, even if only temporarily. I had a few injuries in the three months leading up to the race that weren't healing properly and my physical therapist stressed that I needed to take time to strengthen and improve my body. So I enlisted the help of Lacee Lazoff, a trainer and kettlebell specialist at Performix House in New York City.

We did an hour-long consultation where I told the pint-sized powerhouse (seriously, just look at her Instagram) that although I wanted to lose a few pounds, I felt in pretty good shape. We went through all the typical movement pattern assessments such as: B. a squat range of motion screening. We talked about my CrossFit history years ago and my affinity for running. On that first day together, she had me do a kettlebell circuit that included Bulgarian split squats. I remember thinking after the second round that maybe I wasn't that strong after all.

Lazoff worked with me to create a plan that allowed me to incorporate some running and my “work meeting” workouts. I would do strength training (and only strength training) three days a week. Otherwise, it would be a mix of activities that keep me sane, like running to my favorite hot yoga class or meeting a friend for boxing. The goal: For 31 days, I would get to know my body better, work on the wonky movement patterns we discovered in the initial tests, and get stronger along the way.

Thirty days later I had learned a lot.

1. I'm not as fit as I thought I was.

Just because I've been training like a crazy person for the last four years doesn't mean I'm in the running to be CrossFit's next Fittest Woman on Earth. Workout after workout, I found myself humbled by new movement patterns and challenged by weights. Workout after workout, I felt absolutely gassed from about 50 minutes of work that made me feel like a beginner again.

2. It's okay not to be great at everything.

That beginner feeling was hard to appreciate. The fact is: you only become a beginner once. During this time you have the opportunity (keyword: opportunity) to learn so much about a skill and yourself. Through all of this, I realize that it's easy to look past the days when I was a complete novice at running; the days when I would run (that's a friendly term) half a mile in 14 minutes. I remember how much I disliked it. I remember those sweat-soaked Target cotton tights that I've since traded in for the more high-performance Lululemon leggings. I remember thinking I would never complete a 5K and then crossing that off my list months later. Then half marathon. Then more.

3. Solo training is daunting.

But still, being a beginner is especially difficult when you're trying to do something primarily on your own. I felt really, really lonely doing this training plan alone, round after round. If someone else was using the dumbbells I wanted or I couldn't find the right kettlebell on the rack, it was easy to make excuses and walk away, but I kept reminding myself why I started. Get better. To stay informed, I reported to Lazoff after the sessions I completed on my own and submitted a full report. That way I was accountable and didn't let myself down.

4. Progress is success.

Thirty-one days later, I can say without a doubt that I have achieved my initial goals by committing to a strength plan. The anger over previous injuries - a weak hamstring and some sensitive nerves in my feet - is certainly improving. The movements that were overwhelming for me in week one felt more doable in week four.

5. Nothing worth having comes easy.

After I had my little meltdown with my friend at the Hex Bar, I basically went up to the treadmill on autopilot. I turned on my ever-evolving Run Your Mind playlist and ran two quick miles. Drenched in sweat, I got off the treadmill, exhaled, and remembered why I exercise in the first place: because it makes me happy. Like everything in life, hard work will make me better. Maybe one day I'll feel the same warm feeling throwing around kettlebells as I do during a 10-mile run on Saturday morning. In the meantime, it's time to continue to get comfortable with the uncomfortable and figure out the next phase of the training plan.

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