"Quitting an exercise isn’t the end. It’s the beginning of a freer version of fitness."
You've probably heard of the Great Resignation, but quitting your job isn't the only way that throwing in the towel can help you get ahead. This article is part of a Men's Health series about how real-life quitters turned into winners—and how you can do the same.
The barbell bench press is widely regarded as one of the gold-standard fitness exercises. It is the only strength exercise that football players are tested on during the annual NFL Scouting Combine. And it's the first thing a gym-bro will ask when he meets you: "What's your max bench press?" is one of the most frequently asked questions in the gym. It's also an exercise that took me years to master, with my bench press reaching more than 250 pounds and me easily pumping out reps at 225.
So, no, I didn't want to give up the exercise I'd done at the start of every week since high school. Yet, there I was in 2012, being told to ditch the barbell in favor of dumbbell presses. And there I was, not intending to listen, despite the fact that I'd asked for this advice in the first place. I was in a Bronx gym talking to a bodybuilder about the nagging shoulder pain that was preventing me from performing my favorite barbell bench press, and the bodybuilder immediately suggested I switch to dumbbell presses instead.
Getting away from the barbell press would be much easier on my shoulder, according to the guy, and it might also help my chest development. This wasn't new information; I'd heard it from an NFL friend, then-Giants defensive lineman Justin Tuck, a year before. But I hadn't paid attention to the NFL player, so why would I pay attention to a bodybuilder?
Because the right shoulder pain would worsen two weeks later. And it was at that point that I decided to disregard my better (OK, worse) bench press judgment and abandon barbell presses.
I decided to stop exercising for the first time in my life.
It's a decision that could crush any gym-goer, because conventional fitness rhetoric tells us we should never give up. We're taught to fight for every last rep and set from the moment we do (OK, attempt) our first pushup. We're taught to push through the discomfort and never give up until the workout is completed. And we're taught that we should always do the exercises we despise because they're the ones our bodies require the most.
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION ON QUITTING:
The Case Against Ghosting
Except that each of those mantras is a complete gym myth. Such concepts are intended to push you to be a bigger, stronger, and fitter version of yourself by providing you with the rigidity that comes with never quitting. By never quitting a workout or pushing through a set, you develop a resilient mind, which gradually aids in the development of a resilient body. But we have a tendency to overextend that rigidity, which was my struggle. I was concerned that by discontinuing barbell bench presses, I was setting a bad precedent. Soon enough, I'd quit deadlifts for no apparent reason, and then I'd quit the gym, and then I'd quit work... and then I'd move back into my parents' basement, gain 200 pounds, and play video games 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
But then I remembered all the older bodybuilder types I'd met at my gym and how frequently they complained about pain in their shoulders, elbows, and pretty much every joint. And, while they looked the part and could do their barbell bench presses, was all that muscle worth it if my training was breaking me down? The more I thought about my own personal fitness goals (being strong and looking like a superhero), the less I could persuade myself that I needed to do the barbell press. The truth is that I did it because everyone else was doing it—which is never a good reason to do anything.
Don't allow yourself to be paralyzed by movements that simply don't work for you. Understanding how and when to discontinue an exercise is critical—and in the long run, it may prepare your body to return to the exercise you previously abandoned. That's what happened to me in the bench press; I didn't touch a barbell bench press for three years (yes, that long). Then, last year, I was back to casually throwing up 275 on the spur of the moment.
To get there, I had to learn three lessons that would help me break free from general fitness dogma.
The body is unconcerned about the equipment.
We believe we must use specific tools in the gym, such as the wide bar for lat pulldowns or the barbell for deadlifts and bench presses. However, the body does not keep track of the equipment you use. All it feels like is weight—and how you're moving that weight.
This is the issue with the barbell bench press: The truth is that most people move the barbell inefficiently. The barbell is a rigid tool that assumes your body is symmetrical. However, it is common for one of your shoulders to have greater mobility and strength than the other. Forced into the barbell, this can result in injury—my rotator cuffs screamed with each press.
When I got rid of the barbell, I started doing bench press reps with only dumbbells and kettlebells. Both of these tools are excellent for a variety of exercises other than bench presses. Overhead presses with dumbbells are also more natural, and squats with a dumbbell held in the goblet position at your chest are much easier than squats with a barbell plastered to your back. This can nag your shoulders even when you're squatting with a barbell; they need to stay tighter than you think during barbell squats to protect your midback.
By switching to dumbbells and no longer having to deal with shoulder pain, I was able to concentrate on squeezing my chest rather than simply pushing the weight. This contraction eventually assisted me in gaining even more pec strength and size. So, no matter how many people stare at the gym, don't be afraid to switch tools. Years later, I'd enroll in a Pain-Free Performance Specialist Certification course. According to this certification, the barbell deadlift and barbell squat, two more exercises that most guys believe they should do, are actually the most complex forms of hinging and squatting, respectively.
When in doubt and in pain, it's a good bet that stepping away from the barbell will help.
Your workout is not defined by your gym bros.
As I began this non-barbell journey, I was working out with a training partner, and the last thing I wanted to do was choose different exercises than him, especially since my exercise seemed "weaker."
When I switched to dumbbells, I had to go a little lighter on my presses because my shoulders were under new stability demands. This didn't sit well with me at first because my partner was clearly more of a classic gym-bro want tobe. So he poked me a few times, pointing out that I wasn't lifting as heavy or telling me I was ruining the workout. It wasn't entirely unfair, either, because I was legitimately complicating things: we suddenly needed two benches to complete our workouts.
The thing is, I began going to the gym on my own and had training goals long before I had a training partner. Our physiques differed; he was older and stockier, with shorter arms, and was better able to deal with inconsistencies in his bench press form. That was something I needed to realize and tune out any smirks. Surprisingly, he switched to dumbbells a few weeks later. I'd directed him to a more joint-safe press.
Don't be afraid to take the lead in your own workouts. If you're training with a partner or in a group, even if everyone else is doing pullups, you can still do chinups if it's easier on your elbows. Even when they grab barbells, you can still curl dumbbells. Take your workouts in a new direction, and watch your friends follow suit.
Quitting now may make you stronger in the long run.
When I stopped doing the bench press, I had a glimmer of hope that I'd give it another shot someday. But switching to dumbbells also helped me improve my shoulder stability and understand how to properly position my forearms to get the most out of my chest. My bench press mechanics improved, and I was soon moving heavier weights.
Then, about three years ago, on a whim, following a full chest workout, I decided to try the barbell bench press again. So, with great caution (because my shoulders had hated the move for years), I did reps with 135 pounds first, then 185 pounds. I felt no pain in either situation. Then I went back to my old holy grail, the 225-pound bench press, and just to be safe, I asked someone nearby for a spot, knowing full well that I could blow out my shoulder in this one moment.
Except that I didn't. I'd spent so much time perfecting my technique that the scale flew up eight times. And, in the last three years, I've reintroduced barbell bench presses here and there, and I can comfortably lift significant weight with the exercise.
It's no longer a requirement for me to go to the gym, and realizing that there are no gym requirements has helped me in other ways as well. For a time, I avoided conventional deadlifts in the same way that I avoided barbell presses. After years of focusing on the trap bar, I recently returned to those, and, similar to the barbell bench press, I've found these deadlifts easier because I'm more mechanically sound.
Quitting an exercise isn't the end of the world. It's the start of a more liberated version of fitness—and that version of fitness can push you to the results you really want.
Comments
Post a Comment