Since the TBT ( “total body training”) thing I’ve been noodling with for the first/last few weeks since I was cleared to lift is insufficiently structured to work for me; I’m getting my form back, but not making any kind of coherent progress. So, with that in mind, I’m poring through my training logs and previous programs to figure out what to hitch my wagon to.
Regain strength and size without undue risk of re-injuring my repaired shoulder. Improve conditioning.
My own push/pull/stand act (whether that’s my 15/9/3+ thing or a more TBT-style 3×20/15/8 rep system)
5/3/1’s “Boring But Big” variant
Starting Strength / Stronglifts / similar 5×5
Smolov-style single-lift focus (probably squats, with a beginning 1RM of 335 to play it safe)
Suggestions from the readership are welcomed, with greater consideration given to documented, first-hand performance improvement by the advocate.
Objects in selfie may not be as buff as they apppear.
Sue me, I just got done with a two-hour upper body workout, followed by some heavy logistics planning for hypothetical renovations; clever titular wordsmithing is not in the goddamned cards at the moment.
Anyways, here’s the state of the meat seven weeks into the year.
Yes, it’s the first of the month/year/thing, and I actually woke the fuck up and busted out the tape measure. Timeliness and shit, not to mention taking full advantage of all the resolutionist momentum that everyone else in the world is going to be bandwagoning the living fuck out of.
So, hey, here’s the state of the meat at the dawn of 2012, going into a de-load week before testing my maxes and moving into the next phase of things.
And, if you’re good, there will be Yet Another Phone Shot (YAPS) to go with each of these updates moving forward. Nothing spectacular, just me, standing around in my office wearing a pair of shorts. No lighting tricks, no flexing, nada. Those conditions are not the case in the photo at left; that’s racking 165 after doing some head-supported rows with the flattering (but very fucking hot) halogen in my garage overhead.
Some things are easy to gauge — strength and endurance and weight — because we have the tools at our disposal to measure them. Other things are trickier — sleep quality, or various nutritional balances — but still within the realm of doable for someone who is attentive and attuned to how their body works. But for some things, there’s no real substitute for professional diagnostics and evaluation.
And this brings us to today’s subject, which is going to come as something of a surprise to most readers.
Your not so humble scribe has what has somewhat coyly become known as “Low T.”
I joke with an old friend (that is, a friend of long acquaintance, not one of advanced years. She is STILL twenty-nine, some-fucking-how) about being her “sexy nemesis,” because I don’t pull any rhetorical punches in our friendship, and gleefully fuck with her when I think she’s getting too complacent.
This is my standard modus operandi in many things; my younger, more pretentious self wrote a first-person essay from Satan’s POV about trafficking in doubt, for instance. Be that as it may, presenting a challenge, an obstacle, or a target is something I tend to do whether I mean to or not.