My weekend wasn't completely lacking in physical activity. I did a ton of yard work on Sunday and had to get up very early on Monday morning to finish off what I couldn't complete by sundown. Probably not the best way to get ready for my big test day on Monday, but it had to be done. As I had mentioned in earlier posts, May 9th was the day I had specifically chosen to see how much progress I had made on my front squat. In order to finish up on May 9th, I had to pick up the pace on my front squat sessions. I had been doing a light day and a heavy day each week, but I switched to squatting every other day over the last two weeks. Why was I so set on accelerating my schedule to finish on May 9th?
- I was tired of dealing with a sore right hand. There was moderate pain in it every time I went through a squat session, whether it was a light day or a heavy day. And that pain lingered throughout the rest of the day. It was killing me every time I had to clean a barbell in class. Why deal with that for 4 weeks if I could finish the program in 2 weeks and start my recovery sooner?
- Jim C seemed bummed every time he'd see me doing a 6x2 session on Monday nights, so I wanted to schedule my test day for a Monday night.
- My heavy days were on Wednesday mornings, but I heard Clay was leaving KOP and I wasn't sure if the Wednesday morning Open Strength class would be continuing once he left. By accelerating my schedule, I could get in my remaining heavy days while he was still here.
I'm always looking for good vibes whenever I have something important coming up and the WOD scheduled on Monday provided them. There was absolutely no chance I was doing the WOD no matter what it was, but it put a smile on my face when I saw that the workout was nothing but front squats. (Note: The WOD focused on pausing front squats, where the athlete would need to pause in the bottom of the squat for a certain amount of time before completing the rep. I would be doing everything in my power not to pause during my test day.) I normally take the 6:30 class on Monday, then linger around at Open Strength in the main gym from 7:30-9:00. Since I wasn't doing the WOD, I decided there was no point in showing up to KOP until 7:30.
When I got there, I was very surprised. Several members of the 6:30 class were packing up and getting ready to head out, but the only person remaining in the gym was Giulz. Almost every Monday night, Jim and Leslie were there, with Jess usually making an appearance a bit later on. Not this Monday. I had somehow picked the one night when Jim wasn't there. There was nothing I could do about it now. It would just be me on one side of the gym and Giulz on the other as I went through my progression to find a new 1RM.
According to the chart on the wall in the gym, I should have been able to front squat 285 pounds once if I could handle 265 pounds for 3 reps. So that was the goal: to get at least 285 pounds. Never mind that I had gotten 265 pounds for two reps before this program began and, based on the chart, should have had a 1RM of 280 already. I was feeling more confident about my front squat having gotten through the entire program without any mistakes along the way. In fact, I was feeling confident enough to have a reach goal on my test day. If all was going really well, I wanted to get 290. That was a nice thought, but before I tackled 285-290 pounds, I would need to conquer 275 pounds, a weight I had failed at multiple times before.
I revised my warmup, trying to cut down on some of the volume. I began with my usual set of 5 reps at 135, but the purpose of that set is mainly to get a feel for the movement and to stretch out my legs. I kept the next set at 185, but I cut the reps from four down to three. During the program, my next jump would be to 215 for 2 reps, but I decided to skip that and move up to 225 to begin my singles. Doing a lot of warmup might tire me out for the heavier lifts later. Plus those lifts might require multiple attempts. Conserving my energy was going to be important and there was no reason to practice sets of multiple reps in my warmup when I was testing my 1RM. The single rep at 225 was no problem and I added 30 pounds to my barbell. The next rep at 255 would be my last one before I went after a new 1RM at 275. I slowly descended into my squat and pushed away the floor to rise back up. Only I didn't rise back up. I hit my sticking point and had to fight harder than I would have liked to stand back up with the barbell. Not what I wanted right before taking on a weight that I've had difficulty with in the past.
I tend to crack a lot of jokes about the lifters sitting in their chairs between lifts. There is just something amusing to me about watching someone lift a bunch of weight, then sit down and chill for a while, playing on their phone or passing the time in some other way. On this night, I was all about that routine. My normal routine was more along the lines of doing a lift every 2-3 minutes, then walking around in between lifts. After the brief scare at 255, it was sit my butt down between lifts and wait 4-5 minutes before going again. I took about 5 minutes before I got up to try 275, but then I felt like I needed to pee. As I began walking to the lobby door, I thought for a second and stopped. Was this just my way of procrastinating again? Was I letting my fear of failing at 275 again get the best of me, causing me to delay trying that lift? Maybe I was. I turned back around. I was taking on 275 pounds right now. If I wanted to pee, I was going to have to earn it by getting a PR first! (On second thought, this probably could have turned out very badly.)
I went over to the barbell, went through my routine, and removed it from the rack. I've added one new thing to my routine, which is to bounce the barbell off my shoulders a little bit when I take it off of the rack. It's kinda my way of convincing my body that "hey, this ain't so heavy!" I got my feet in position, took a deep breath, and kept everything under control as I went into the bottom of my squat. Then I pushed upwards with great urgency (I mean, I did still need to use the restroom). Didn't hit the sticking point, just rose right up with the barbell. I had finally gotten 275 pounds!
After another 5 minute break (which included that postponed visit to the men's room), I got ready to try 285 pounds. On one hand, I was feeling good about my chances because the lift at 275 went so well. On the other hand, I knew this weight was probably going to be that amount where I was going to be making a visit to the sticking point and I would need to fight really hard to get through it. Sort of like I did at 255, only worse. I started my routine and when I tried to do the bounce, I noticed that the weight felt considerably heavier. The one benefit to knowing that a lift is going to be very difficult is that I almost never lose my focus on it. I know that if I don't do everything right, I will end up failing with the lift. I was very locked in when I began my squat, probably because there was a part of me that suspected this could be my last shot at success for the evening. I controlled my descent to the bottom of the lift and, as expected, I hit my sticking point on the way back up. I was still rising, albeit slowly. I never got to the point where I considered bailing the barbell. A second or two later, I was completely upright, very psyched about getting 285 pounds. Anything from this point forward was gravy.
I was about to grab a couple of 2.5 pound plates to add to the barbell, as 290 pounds was definitely worth a try. But then I had another idea. Why not give 295 a try? If it was too much for me, I could easily scale down to 290. And 290 might feel a little lighter after giving 295 a go. So I took the 5 pound plates off the bar, slid on a couple of 10 pound plates and worked on convincing myself that I could get 295 pounds. I wasn't doing a very good job. I think I had already skipped ahead in my brain to the part where I was standing in front of 290 pounds telling myself that I almost got 295 one lift earlier. As I approached the barbell, I finally had some legit positive thoughts. Just go through your routine, push those hips forward when you hit the sticking point, keep fighting, and you can get it. I took the barbell off the rack and did a tiny bounce as I had definitely hit the point where the barbell felt very heavy. Then the strangest thing happened. I had my best lift of the night. Usually when my mind is clouded with doubts, what follows next is the sound of a heavy barbell hitting the floor. Not this time. Controlled descent to the bottom, big push off the floor, almost no time in the sticking point, and a genuine "holy crap" moment when I stood up with the weight.
I was a bit delirious at this point. My next lift was supposed to be the one at 290, the one I did after failing at 295. In fact, I could envision myself needing several tries at 290. But now I had done 295 and that plan was out the window. I even walked around my barbell making sure I had added up the weight correctly. 45 pound barbell, two 45 pound plates along with a 25 pound plate and a 10 pound plate on each side. Yup, that was definitely 295 pounds and I had just front squatted like it was my job. I sat back down on the bench in a state of confused euphoria. I had to try 300 next. Doing a 300 pound front squat was one of my top 10 goals for 2016. I figured that this squat program would get me to about 285 and that if I did another one later in the year, I could get to 300. Attempting it after one squat program had put me way ahead of schedule. I put a 2.5 pound plate on each side of the barbell, stood back and simply stared at it. I was still in shock about the last lift.
I took 5 minutes of rest, then got ready to take on 300. There was newfound confidence running through me thanks to that crazy lift at 295. I gripped the barbell, took it off the rack, and did my mini-bounce again. I stared straight ahead. I took a deep breath. It was go time. I began my descent and...dropped the barbell. Sometimes even when you think you are focused, you aren't focused. As I lowered to the bottom of my squat, I completely forgot to keep my elbows up. They went from pointing forward to pointing towards the ground, causing the barbell to fall forward. I lost control of it and had to let it go. That was not very good at all. Giulz and I had been doing our own thing on opposite sides of the gym, but the loud crash of the barbell made her stop and check on me. She encouraged me to take my time before trying again. After stripping the barbell, getting it on the rack, and reloading it, I took about 7 minutes before making my 2nd attempt.
Some of the folks who were doing strength in the annex began coming over to the main gym at this point. Between lifts, Sarah S had made a brief visit. And right as I made my second attempt, Faby stopped into the gym. Even though I hadn't told either of them where I was at (or even that this was my test day), I'm sure they both knew that I was going for a PR at this point. Little did they know I had already hit a 30 pound PR! As I approached the barbell this time, I reminded myself to keep my elbows up, but I basically pretended that the last attempt had not happened. I had plenty of good lifts tonight, I just needed to duplicate those. I went through my routine and when I began my descent into the squat this time, I kept my elbows up. I pushed through the floor with as much force as I could, but I had hit my sticking point. For a second, I thought I had it as I was rising ever so slightly. But after more than three years of doing Crossfit, I think I have a solid gauge of when it's time to bail on a lift. The barbell went crashing to the floor again. 0 for 2.
I always like to give myself 3 attempts at a lift, but after this miss, I took notice of how tired I was. I was going to rest for 7 minutes again, but I needed to catch a second wind if my final attempt was going to be a successful one. For the first 5 minutes, I sat on the bench, not wanting to waste energy moving about. But I couldn't just walk up to the barbell and attempt 300 pounds after sitting on the bench for 7 minutes. So with my break time winding down, I decided to march down to the end of the gym and back. As I walked towards the other end of the gym with some speed, I tried to psych myself up. This is your last lift, everything you got! (Basically the most generic pep talk one could give oneself.) When I got back to my barbell, I didn't waste any time. I immediately got into my routine. Giulz yelled some encouragement as I got ready. Faby yelled some encouragement. I took the barbell from the rack and it still felt very heavy. I got my feet planted and my breathing right. Then I went for it. It was very similar to the second attempt. Proper speed on the way down, a big push out of the bottom, and a visit to the infamous sticking point. Once again, it felt like I was rising inch by inch. But this time I didn't level out. I pressed my hips forward and I kept creeping higher. All of a sudden, I knew I was getting through it. The only problem was that I was so sapped of energy that I began to doubt whether I could stand completely upright with the barbell. The spirit of John McHugh must have helped me out in that moment as I looked upward and let out a scream to finish the lift. I dumped the barbell back on the rack, tremendously excited. Goal #3 for 2016 had been accomplished!
I turned around and giddily ran over to Giulz. I went to give her a fist bump, but she went for the high five, so I clumsily slapped her hand at the last moment. Then I went over to Faby and gave him a high five. Part of me wanted to run around the gym in excitement, but I kept my awkward celebrations to a minimum. I began putting my plates away, eager to throw on a dry shirt. Once I had done that, I knew where I wanted to go to celebrate. I had earned a root beer float and I was heading over to Frosty Falls, assuming they were still open. I grabbed my bag and went to fist bump Giulz one more time. And she held up her hand for another high five. Clearly I'm a slow learner. I gave another high five to Faby and one to Tom C (he had shown up after I was done to do farmers carries) before jogging over to Frosty Falls.
Perhaps the biggest disappointment of the night was when I got over to Frosty Falls and saw nothing but darkness. That was supposed to be my reward tonight. Bummed out, I walked back towards my car. Then the light bulb went on. On my way home, I stopped at Wawa, got some Vanilla Bean ice cream and a bottle of A&W root beer. I had dinner when I got home, then capped it off with a well-deserved root beer float. It was a really nice ending to a surprisingly good night.
Tuesday preview: Very sore after the front squat triumph, but I can't resist a partner WOD that is heavy on the rope climbs.
I was a bit delirious at this point. My next lift was supposed to be the one at 290, the one I did after failing at 295. In fact, I could envision myself needing several tries at 290. But now I had done 295 and that plan was out the window. I even walked around my barbell making sure I had added up the weight correctly. 45 pound barbell, two 45 pound plates along with a 25 pound plate and a 10 pound plate on each side. Yup, that was definitely 295 pounds and I had just front squatted like it was my job. I sat back down on the bench in a state of confused euphoria. I had to try 300 next. Doing a 300 pound front squat was one of my top 10 goals for 2016. I figured that this squat program would get me to about 285 and that if I did another one later in the year, I could get to 300. Attempting it after one squat program had put me way ahead of schedule. I put a 2.5 pound plate on each side of the barbell, stood back and simply stared at it. I was still in shock about the last lift.
I took 5 minutes of rest, then got ready to take on 300. There was newfound confidence running through me thanks to that crazy lift at 295. I gripped the barbell, took it off the rack, and did my mini-bounce again. I stared straight ahead. I took a deep breath. It was go time. I began my descent and...dropped the barbell. Sometimes even when you think you are focused, you aren't focused. As I lowered to the bottom of my squat, I completely forgot to keep my elbows up. They went from pointing forward to pointing towards the ground, causing the barbell to fall forward. I lost control of it and had to let it go. That was not very good at all. Giulz and I had been doing our own thing on opposite sides of the gym, but the loud crash of the barbell made her stop and check on me. She encouraged me to take my time before trying again. After stripping the barbell, getting it on the rack, and reloading it, I took about 7 minutes before making my 2nd attempt.
Some of the folks who were doing strength in the annex began coming over to the main gym at this point. Between lifts, Sarah S had made a brief visit. And right as I made my second attempt, Faby stopped into the gym. Even though I hadn't told either of them where I was at (or even that this was my test day), I'm sure they both knew that I was going for a PR at this point. Little did they know I had already hit a 30 pound PR! As I approached the barbell this time, I reminded myself to keep my elbows up, but I basically pretended that the last attempt had not happened. I had plenty of good lifts tonight, I just needed to duplicate those. I went through my routine and when I began my descent into the squat this time, I kept my elbows up. I pushed through the floor with as much force as I could, but I had hit my sticking point. For a second, I thought I had it as I was rising ever so slightly. But after more than three years of doing Crossfit, I think I have a solid gauge of when it's time to bail on a lift. The barbell went crashing to the floor again. 0 for 2.
I always like to give myself 3 attempts at a lift, but after this miss, I took notice of how tired I was. I was going to rest for 7 minutes again, but I needed to catch a second wind if my final attempt was going to be a successful one. For the first 5 minutes, I sat on the bench, not wanting to waste energy moving about. But I couldn't just walk up to the barbell and attempt 300 pounds after sitting on the bench for 7 minutes. So with my break time winding down, I decided to march down to the end of the gym and back. As I walked towards the other end of the gym with some speed, I tried to psych myself up. This is your last lift, everything you got! (Basically the most generic pep talk one could give oneself.) When I got back to my barbell, I didn't waste any time. I immediately got into my routine. Giulz yelled some encouragement as I got ready. Faby yelled some encouragement. I took the barbell from the rack and it still felt very heavy. I got my feet planted and my breathing right. Then I went for it. It was very similar to the second attempt. Proper speed on the way down, a big push out of the bottom, and a visit to the infamous sticking point. Once again, it felt like I was rising inch by inch. But this time I didn't level out. I pressed my hips forward and I kept creeping higher. All of a sudden, I knew I was getting through it. The only problem was that I was so sapped of energy that I began to doubt whether I could stand completely upright with the barbell. The spirit of John McHugh must have helped me out in that moment as I looked upward and let out a scream to finish the lift. I dumped the barbell back on the rack, tremendously excited. Goal #3 for 2016 had been accomplished!
I turned around and giddily ran over to Giulz. I went to give her a fist bump, but she went for the high five, so I clumsily slapped her hand at the last moment. Then I went over to Faby and gave him a high five. Part of me wanted to run around the gym in excitement, but I kept my awkward celebrations to a minimum. I began putting my plates away, eager to throw on a dry shirt. Once I had done that, I knew where I wanted to go to celebrate. I had earned a root beer float and I was heading over to Frosty Falls, assuming they were still open. I grabbed my bag and went to fist bump Giulz one more time. And she held up her hand for another high five. Clearly I'm a slow learner. I gave another high five to Faby and one to Tom C (he had shown up after I was done to do farmers carries) before jogging over to Frosty Falls.
Perhaps the biggest disappointment of the night was when I got over to Frosty Falls and saw nothing but darkness. That was supposed to be my reward tonight. Bummed out, I walked back towards my car. Then the light bulb went on. On my way home, I stopped at Wawa, got some Vanilla Bean ice cream and a bottle of A&W root beer. I had dinner when I got home, then capped it off with a well-deserved root beer float. It was a really nice ending to a surprisingly good night.
Tuesday preview: Very sore after the front squat triumph, but I can't resist a partner WOD that is heavy on the rope climbs.
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