Full
disclosure: I am a nerd. I don’t mean in
the trendy way people call themselves nerds these days just because they like
the new Star Wars movie. I played Magic the Gathering, I still play Dungeons
and Dragons, I own almost every video game system from the NES to the Xbox 360,
and I even have a goddamn comic book character emblem tattooed on my body. Yet,
all of the nerdy activities I’ve engaged in, lifting has to be the one with the
most embarrassing community of nerds.

...too far?
It didn’t
use to always be like this. In fact, it
used to be the opposite. The stereotype
was that lifters were meatheads: guys with IQs equal to their bodyfat
percentages who grunted their way through social interactions and shoved kids
in lockers for their lunch money. These same Neanderthals would lumber into the
weight room, pick up something heavy, blast until they puked, go home, eat a
few steaks, and repeat the process ad infinitum. Somehow, it worked for
decades…and then the nerds showed up on the scene.
My theory is
that those kids getting shoved in the lockers decided to overcome their
position by becoming the enemy. They
decided that they TOO would lift. However, they brought to lifting what they
brought to all their other hobbies and passion: an obsession with statistics
and “leveling up”. Like all other
activities, they viewed lifting as a game to be won through grinding to the
point of obtaining superior statistics, and assumed that it in turn must follow
the rules of their fantasy universe.
It is from
this that we developed this idea of “beginner routines” that one must follow
until they hit intermediate stats. Once
they’ve leveled up, this trainee is now ready for the intermediate routine
until they level up to the advanced status. It’s grinding to level up, pure and
simple, and its insanity. Read through
the “Keys to Progress” and see how ironheads were training in the 20s, 30s,
40s, 50s and 60s: there was no mention of “intermediate” routines, you stuck
with something hard and heavy and blasted away at it until you became
something. If you needed to get bigger, you ate more, if you needed to get
smaller, you ate less, and the entire time you trained, you threw enough
intensity of effort at the lifts that your body had no choice BUT to grow.
I mean...it worked for this guy
The
nerdiness doesn’t end there either. With the penchant to min-max, munchkin and
optimize everything (apologizes to my non-nerd speaking audience for those
first 2 terms), many of these trainees believe that the effectiveness of a
routine can easily be determined via mathetmatical computations of volume and
intensity. The best routine IS out
there, and all one has to do is compare ALL of them, crunch the numbers and
*poof* the best routine is discovered.
What’s missing? The human element
of course: the effects of intensity of effort, the athletic background of the
trainees, the psychological and physiological responses to certain training
stimuli, effects of prior injuries, etc etc.
The new generation of beginners is obsessed with finding the best
routine before they ever begin, while the old ironheads knew that all they
needed was some guiding principles and the rest would sort itself out. No character skill tree needed, just effort
and consistency.
If you want
a nerdy analogy, here’s one: lifting is like trying to hit level 99 in the very
opening screen of your RPG of choice. At
first, the experience points are significant, and the leveling up happens
quickly. Soon enough though, things slow
down. You’re getting better and stronger, and yet your enemies aren’t giving you
the boost that you used to. Is the
solution to come up with more and more creative means to dispatch them, in the
hopes that the game will somehow reward your creativity in slaying your
comically easy opponents? No; all you
can do is show up, grind forever and ever, and eek out progress through force
of will, effort and consistency. Magic
isn’t the answer: its patience.
Plus, being a Fighter is way cooler than a Wizard
If the
qualities that allowed one to excel at Dungeons and Dragons made one a better
lifter, the dynamics of high school would have been radically different. Don’t be afraid to be a meathead. Shut off the brain for a second, crank up the
testosterone, and keep showing up until you get results. If you’re rolling a
D20, start over.