#hence the pronounced wrist bone :

[doyouknowthemossinman]

...and I'll tell her so she knows That I'm broke, but I'm real rich in my head That I broke a bone that never healed in my hand So when I hold her close I might loosen my grip, but I won't ever let her go I won't ever let her go.

this is mostly what i was really wanting with that concept art i posted forever ago. that's why i drew the bones with pens lol.

the chorus of Forever is so tanguish and helsknight that it hurts meeee!!! like maybe the song itself has too much of its own story to be them but specifically this part of the chorus goes crazy. and also "I won't be alone for the rest of my life."

if you give me blorbos i WILL relate them to a noah kahan song it's just a matter of time

(also this means u can stop rb'ing the concept art bc it sucks!!!!!)

[Redstone and Skulk] is written by the amazing @silverskye13 ‼️ go read it ‼️

[jungcity]

bane of the devil. | viii

genre: vampire!jaehyun [angst | fluff | smut]

pairings: jaehyun x female reader

words: 5.9k

warning: bane of the devil deals with themes of deaths, physical, mental, and sexual abuse as well as toxic relationships. which may be upsetting for some readers. you are advised not to continue if you feel uncomfortable to these types of plots.

“she is made of

bruises of the past,

of bullets made from flames.

she could rattle the skies

and shake the stars.

perhaps you have

missed the wolf

underneath her skin.

but she wasn’t made

to cower under your gun.

she wasn’t the hunter,

and she wasn’t the prey.

she is the enemy of the

demons who does

not deserve mercy.”

— bane of the devil, viii

A smiling Rhianon was who greeted you as you shut the door close behind you. With your heart still thundering against your chest by the little display Jaehyun had shown, you sauntered up to your own bed. Your body slightly bouncing by the impact of it on the soft mattress. The room was painted with darkness, with only Rhianon’s lamp providing the light.

“I couldn’t believe it! You really are friends with a vampire? How?” She looked so excited that she seemed to jump. Her glasses caught the glint of the lamp beside her table. Its yellow light touching half of Rhianon’s face.

You smiled shyly towards her, not bothering to light your own lamp. A thick tome rests on her bed, its pages splayed. Similar to the light of the lamp, its pages were also tinge with yellow; a sign that the book had seen better days.

“Yes. It was the most unexpected happening of my life, believe me.” Then a merry yet controlled chuckle escaped your lips. Jaehyun’s unfortunate state in front of your doorstep sinking back in your mind. “What is that?” Veering the conversation from you, you’ve decided to point your finger towards the thick book laying on her bed.

Rhianon followed your finger, until her own eyes landed on the thick tome. She grabbed and placed it on her lap. “Book of Enchantments and Magic,” she pronounced while trailing her fingers over the embossed title. “What a simple title for a powerful book.” Then she puffed a sigh.

Rhianon held the book on its edges, showing you a better view of its golden title. By the light, the cover gave off a crimson color. Dents and scratches could be found on its surface. A further sign that the book is, indeed, old.

“I didn’t know you’re interested in those kinds of books.” You smiled at her. The bookshelf located at the corner of the room must’ve been full of books about enchantments.

“Oh, I am interested. Deeply.” Rhianon ran her hand on the book’s cover, before placing it on her bedside table. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been devouring all of these books. I swear, I already have memorized every single one of these pages. That’s why I have poor eyesight.” She shrugged, pointing her finger at her eyes.

Suddenly, and as if meant to be brought up, you remembered Rhianon’s reason of joining the Academy. She stated it’s because of Madame. The pieces weren’t that hard to put back together. Madame is a witch. Rhianon have a whole bookshelf containing of books about magic and enchantments.

“Are you a witch?” You hadn’t meant the words to come out bluntly, but they had. Rhianon spared you an indecipherable glance. If she ever looked affronted, you would never know. She concealed her reaction to the question quite well.

“No,” she replied rather laconically. Her throat bobbed against the light. A sign that she could be lying. “Just a practitioner,” she added.

Then she carried the book towards her bookshelf, placed it between the other books and came back to her bed. A heavy aura weighed in between you. Instantly, you’ve regretted your blunt question.

“I’m sorry for asking, Rhianon. It’s not my intention to offend you.”

Rhianon blinked. This time, her face had given clear emotions. And that is a look of surprise. “No, Y/N. You’ve not offended me. It’s just that—” She bit her lower lip, before sighing.

“It’s okay! You don’t need to tell me if you aren’t comfortable,” you stated, holding up your hand as if in surrender.

“I joined to become closer to Madame,” she sighed, before laying her whole back on the bed. “I think it’s stupid. But I still believe that she would help me understand magic.” Her gaze drifted towards the ceiling.

The bed invited you to lay down, and lay down you did. “I think it’s not stupid at all. Mortals could possess magic, too.” You turned on your side and smiled at her.

Rhianon returned the smile, her eyes gleaming in the lamplight. “You think so?”

You nodded, the drowsiness pulling you down. Your eyes blinked in a languid manner. “Yes.” A yawn had escaped from your lips, but you fought it to get the question out of your mouth. “You said you joined for Madame. I now understand that it’s because of this. But, has she ever paid you any attention at all? To teach you magic?”

You truly hoped that you had not broached a sensitive topic. But your curiosity had the best of you. If ever Jaehyun’s instinctive doubts of Madame were true, the least you could do was to gather enough informations from students who had been inside this Academy longer than you were.

A flicker of sadness passed through Rhianon’s face as she turned her head towards you. By that, you already know the answer. Nonetheless, her mouth moved. “No. She said I should earn her trust, first. Which is funny, because I’ve been here for two years.”

Two years? That is a long time for someone who only joined this school for Madame’s magical teachings.

You clamped your mouth shut. The best way to earn a useful information is to listen. Specially when the person you were conversing with seemed to combust with all the suppressed words she had kept to herself.

“Two years of letting Eva break my bones. Two years of those leafy and rancid greens at the canteen. The only thing that’s stopping me from running away is the hope that she would, eventually, spare me a glance. And of course, Lucas’ smile.” She giggled like a high-school girl at the end of the sentence.

Of course. Lucas. Who wouldn’t fall for that ethereal face? Those eyes, and those luscious lips like freshly plucked cherries. Yet as you think about the good qualities of Lucas, the image of a dimpled-guy with pale complexion and eyes like the pit of the universe— so enticing, so enigmatic— couldn’t help but flash in your mind like a movie scene. The kiss that the same guy gave your head earlier sending tingling sensation all throughout your body.

“Yes. Lucas’ smile,” you repeated, with Jaehyun’s face etched on the very surface of your mind.

Rhianon started to snore, a sign that your roommate had already fallen into slumber. You whispered a silent good night before closing your eyes and joining her to dreamlands.

—

Red silk gown. Red lips. Red fingernails. Red bottoms. The crimson color seemed to overwhelm Alena’s appearance tonight. Her dark marble floors shone brightly, with the help of the prodigious chandeliers hanging on the roofs of her mansion.

This home. So expansive. So marvelous. Yet so empty. The silence was almost deafening. And Alena had never felt so alone. With a flick of her wrist, a vampire appeared from behind her. Ready to hear her words. Ready to obey.

She could feel her power threading through the most minuscule of her veins as she walked through the long table located at the very center of this separate hall. The vampire silently trailed behind her.

Everything was black; the chairs, the long table, the pillars adorning every corner of the room. Save for the crimson curtains that covers the floor-to-ceiling window panes. She darted her eyes at the chair that resembles that of a throne sitting at the very head of the table. She sat on it like how a queen would. Because in this town, she is.

“Sicheng,” she pronounced the words with enough carnality to make the boy salivate. “Pour me some wine.” And by wine she meant human blood, with a drop of honey to make it much sweeter. After all, not all human blood was as sweet as her taste buds would penchant for. Some were bitter to the taste, some doesn’t even bore any taste at all.

The man— Sicheng— gladly oblige, his lips stretching to reveal a smile. He has been extremely helpful to Alena ever since she turned him. He never once denied her orders. Be it to kill or deliver her fresh human blood, the boy oblige with reverence fit for a vampire leader.

As Alena brought the wine glass against her lips, the blood glinted in the chandelier first. She took a sip, then a moan echoed through her. Human blood is unparalleled. But she knows a particular kind of blood which out rivaled any other blood she’s ever tasted. The blood of her fiancé, Jaehyun.

Alena has lived for almost three-hundred years now. She’s tasted different bloods from sundries of species, hence she’s aware of the certain sweetness and omnipotence commixed with Jaehyun’s blood that made her wanting for more. At first she thought it was his neglect of his vampiric body and soul, yet Alena could still not pinpoint what was special in her fiancé’s blood. One thing that she was certain of, though, was the matchless power it gave her.

Jaehyun’s blood allowed her to walk under the sun unscathed. It repelled her from holy things such as the rosary and the bible. Ever since she started to drink her fiancé’s blood, she could skim through the bible and mock every verse printed on it without her fingers burning. Oh, how forlorn she’s become since Jaehyun begun to play hide-and-seek with her.

Alena’s thoughts were interrupted by the stomping of boots against her marble floors. She gathered her patience to prevent herself from burning whoever it might be. At last, the door opened, revealing Ranus, her favorite party organizer.

“My lady,” he greeted while giving Alena a bow that could almost reach the floors. “You look fantastic as always.” Ranus’ eyes shone in the chandeliers.

Alena raised a brow. Such empty pleasantries. If given the chance, all of the vampires in this useless town would certainly try to kill Alena in a blink of an eye. She wasn’t the leader all of these vacuous vampires expected her to be. Her hands were made of iron and cruelty and blood; one her father and grandfather didn’t have. And now they reside at the Athanar, where all vampires at the age of five hundred and beyond rests, leaving Alena to reign over.

“How is the preparation going on, Ranus?” If Alena’s voice would have a physical form, it surely would be a venomous snake. Born with a vampire venom circulating in her body, Alena made sure to bolster that venom to act as her defense towards those who wishes her dead.

“Smoothly as always, my lady.” Ranus kept his head down, not daring to look Alena in the eyes. To do so would be downright disrespect. One rule Alena wants her vampires to follow; never look her straight in her eyes. They don’t have the power to dare such impudence.

Only Jaehyun could look her in the eyes. And now he’s gone, hiding from her.

Alena pushed away the thoughts by standing up, her hand still holding the glass of blood. Her heels clanked against the floors. With a flick of her wrist, the curtains parted to give her a better view of the world outside. Alena’s forefathers built their mansion at the very edge of a cliff, for they wanted to look down on the people underneath their mansion’s magnificence. Mortals are vital for a vampire’s survival, but they don’t— will never— match the glory that even a fledgling has.

“And the venue?” she asked after taking the last sip of her wine. She would’ve asked for another glass if not for Ranus’ dreadful answer.

“Juana insists the venue to be at her villa, my lady.”

“Is that so?” What a surprise. Juana undermining her decisions.

It was decided that the vampire leader of this town would supervise the incoming gathering of vampires and vampire hunters alike. That means Alena would be the one to decide things, not anyone in those wretched Academy, and specially not Juana. That hag.

“Yes, my lady.”

Alena gripped the wine glass so tight it cracked on her hand. She could feel Ranus’s eyes on her back, his fear clinging onto the air. “Go and remind that witch bitch who’s in charge here.”

“At once, my lady.”

Alena could still feel Ranus’ presence behind her. He was reluctant to say something. “What is it Ranus?”

“My lady… Juana also reminds you of the thirty-fifty ratio of attendees for the gathering.”

“Ah, yes.” The wine glass finally shattered. Its shards jabbing through Alena’s palms, causing blood to flow from her flesh.

Juana insists that the attendees of the incoming gathering would only consist of thirty vampires and fifty hunters. When Alena first heard of the demand, she almost snap a vein in her temple of laughing by the incredulity of it. The witch really believed that she could overpower the vampire with twenty additional hunters.

Tonight, as she heard the same demand, the certain anger meant for the witch ignited once again in her chest. It’s too much of a disrespect for the vampires. But for the sake of everyone’s entertainment, she would agree. It’s better to let the witch thinks she has the upper hand, only to be disappointed in the end. Victory is sweeter when it’s unexpected.

“Tell her I agree.”

“My lady?”

Alena whirled and sauntered up to Ranus. She caressed the vampire’s cheek with the wounded hand that was starting to heal itself, before giving Ranus’ lips a tender kiss. The vampire stilled, his every veins shouting in fear. “You heard me. Now, go, Ranus.” With another light pat on the cheek from Alena, Ranus sprinted away from the vampire leader.

After Ranus’ departure, Alena turned her full attention to the vampire in the shadows. It’s time for the game to continue.

“Sicheng, come here.”

Alena walked back to her throne at the edge of the table. Sicheng was beside her, waiting for the orders.

“Find Jaehyun. He must attend the gathering with me.” At much as the words hurts her throat, Alena needs Jaehyun to escort him to the gathering. All of the vampires in this town knows their relationship. And if they fear Alena with her presence alone, what more when she’s with Jaehyun? The latter doesn’t realize it yet, but the strength he has in his body could overthrow even the elders at the Athanar. Much gratitude to Jaehyun’s stupidity, he doesn’t know about that yet. And Alena had no plans to apprise him of it.

“Yes, my lady.”

“He’s with a girl. If she gets in the way, kill her.”

Alena wasn’t certain if Jaehyun’s imbecility could rival itself. That could only be proven if he decides to choose a mere college girl over a vampire leader.

“I’m at your disposal, my lady.”

She once again flicked her wrist to dismiss Sicheng. He attempted to leave, but Alena’s voice echoed through the hall again, halting the vampire on his tracks.

“Be careful, you might see your mother on your sleuthing.”

Sicheng’s jaw tightened, a further reminder of the hatred he bears for his own mother. He only nodded before he disappeared from Alena’s sight.

Sicheng is the reason why Juana seeks to destroy Alena. Little did she knew, it was her son who crawled his way to Alena’s mansion, begging her to turn him. Until now, Juana believes that Alena turned her son against his will. Alena did what she had to do to save Sicheng, and now the wrath of a witch lays on her shoulders.

A poisonous smile stretched out in her lips. Alena is a god. And no mere witch— no matter how powerful she might be— could destroy her.

—

The uniform exceeded all your agitations. Not only it was uncomfortable, it was also a bit tight for your liking. The secret curves you tried to hide with baggy shirts were now displayed for everyone to see. You felt as if you were sculpted. But you could not be bothered about the uniform, for you were already standing in an open space near the Arena to listen to Eva and Lucas.

Rhianon discussed with you the importance of the Arena on the way to the open space earlier. She said, twice a year, venatrixes and venators compete to showcase their strength at the Arena. It was also directed by the Madame, herself. With few of the vampire hunters helping her hold the event.

“Alright, a pleasant morning to everyone. I hope you’re ready for today’s training.”

Everyone was silent, allowing Eva’s voice to be as clear as possible. You have decided to stand at the very end of the lane with Rhianon. But that doesn’t excuse you of the scrutinizing eyes of both venatrixes and venators alike. They looked at you as if they were already aware of the weakness residing in your bones. However, you held your chin as high as you could muster. You went here for your parents, not to please these students.

“Let us start, shall we?” Eva held her fist high, then she shouted, “Venatrix!”

All of the students around you, including Rhianon, stood rigid and pressed their fist across their chests. “Venatrix: steadfast and loyal!”

The echo of voices deafened you, but you scrambled to put your fist across your chest and shout whatever the motto was. Your tongue knotted together in a hurry to catch up and shout the motto, you could only hope that no one heard you as you tripped on your words.

“We’ve practiced and trained enough strategies in defeating a vampire in a combat. But as we have a new venatrix, we shall recall these strategies from the very beginning,” Lucas stated. His demeanor was more stout and serious than when you were only having a casual conversation with him. He does not carry the spring-like smile in him today, making his face more dangerous. The kind of danger you weren’t conscious someone such as him could possess.

The silent groans broke you out of your reverie. Clearly, the venatrixes weren’t happy about this decision. You could shrink back behind Rhianon, or you could continue to held your chin up high to pretend that their protestations doesn’t affect you at all. You did the latter. Madame needs you, and no degradation could take that advantage away from your hands.

“Y/N, it’s a pleasure. Could you please— stand here?” Lucas’ smile returned as he gestured for you to stand in the frontline. Of course, he could easily spot you with his height.

The line parted for you. Rhianon gave your hand a tight squeeze before you trekked towards Lucas. His smile never faltered as you finally took your place in the front.

Eva gave you a small smile before bellowing instructions again. “Remember your stance. You would hate to forget it. Vampires are swift creatures— but it would be an advantage that you remember how to dig your soles in the ground for more strength.” Eva raised her fist, as if to punch someone. Then she placed her right foot behind the left, her left hand resting in fist at her sides, as if she was about to uppercut someone. “This is the stance of every fighter. Y/N, could you please try it?” Eva invited you with her hand stretched out.

You gulped and did as you were told. Lucas raised your fist, while Eva nudged your left foot to separate your feet further. Her action almost made you lose your footing, but she was quick to catch your arm. Silent laughters could be heard from the throng of students, heightening your agitation. Your eyes frantically searched for Rhianon’s face in the crowd, but to no avail.

“Quiet!” Lucas shouted. At once, the laughters stopped.

“Your muscles are tensed, Y/N. Try to relax them at the point of comfort,” Eva whispered. “Make them strong but not too rigid.”

Having no idea of how to do her orders, you furrowed your brows. With that, Lucas chuckled. But your eyes caught up on the frown that was etched across Eva’s features. As your eyes met, she smiled.

“I think it’s best if we dismiss the venatrixes today? Send them to the armory to practice weapons?” Eva turned her attention to Lucas. The boy blinked but nodded his head.

“Alright, all of you, go to the armory and practice your preferred weapons,” Lucas pronounced. All of them nodded their heads before the crowd dissipated, leaving only you to Lucas’ and Eva’s graces. Rhianon gave you a small wave before following the students. You only nodded your head, for Eva’s grip on your arm didn’t allow you to wave back to your friend.

“Focus, Y/N. You need to catch up.” There was an edge to Eva’s voice now. As if the five-minutes of teaching had already drove her impatient.

“Show us your strength, Y/N. Try to punch my palms.” Lucas held up both his palms for you to attack.

Then you started to punch. Lucas held them firm. You continued to attack him with your punches. Beads of perspiration already forming on your forehead, but the black uniform seemed to sponge the sweats from your body. Leaving you feeling grimy.

“Okay, stop.” He smiled. You hunched your back and pressed your palms to your knees, trying to refocus your breathing.

“You have the strength in you, Y/N. Practice is all you need.”

Thanks to your physical education classes about boxing. You had dreaded every session of that class, never realizing that the things you had refused to learn would be useful today.

“Again,” Eva demanded. She held up her own palms, her brows knotted in concentration. You glanced at Lucas. The boy gave you one of his encouraging smiles before tapping your back.

You slightly twisted your arm to land a punch in Eva’s palms. Unlike Lucas, she moved, causing you to miss her hand by a hairsbreadth. You knotted your brows but she only smiled. So you continued to penetrate her, and she continued to move her palms to different positions, rejecting your every hit. Impatience slowly crawled on your skin, intensifying your determination and giving you more strength. Eva’s feet started to move backwards as she tried to defend herself from your attacks. Lucas silently following the both of you.

It was obvious that she’s draining you out of your energy, and perhaps she’s trying to ridicule you. A smirk was displayed across her face, widening as you mishit her palms yet again.

You fought the urge to punch her face instead. Restlessness would lead you to nothing but more troubles. You only need to hit and hit and—

Suddenly, the world seemed to whirl in different colors. The only thing you felt was the hard collision of your breaches against the hard ground, followed by the fall of your whole upper body. Red spots swam in your vision as you struggled on your feet. Albeit regaining your footing, the world continued to move around you. Firms hands held you in place, steadying you.

“Why did you do that?” Lucas asked.

It took you minutes to realize that he was asking Eva.

“We need to advance her training.” She shrugged.

You blinked a few times. When the swirling of your vision finally halted, you wiped the dust off your palms and off your uniform.

“Oh, yes? You didn’t need to punch her nose, Eva!”

Eva’s mouth was formed in a thin line. She placed her arms across her chest, her foot tapping on the ground.

“It’s okay, Lucas.” You held up your hand. No, it was not okay. You wanted to attack Eva again to regain your pride. Of all the body parts she could hit, she really decided to punch your nose instead? You waited for blood to flow from your nostrils. Thankfully, after touching the skin below your nose several times, the only liquid you could feel was your sweat.

“Do you need to go to the clinic?” Eva asked, her voice devoid of the warmth she once gave you yesterday.

Clinic, again? The offer was enticing. All you wanted to do was to go back on the bed and sleep. But to do so would mean another weakness. You refused to dwell to that same feeling again. So you shook your head.

“No.”

For hours, Lucas instructed you with different techniques. Eva dismissed herself, saying that she would look over how the venatrixes were faring with their weapons. Having Eva away gave you a little peace of mind. Lucas was gentler and more focused on magnifying your strength. He would only laugh and teach you the right ways every time you tripped over.

After hours of training, he told you to rest. Now you’re alone in the open area under the tree, munching your food.

“How’s your training?”

Your food went flying from the spoon as Jaehyun sat beside you. “Don’t startle me like that!” You pitifully looked at the food on the ground, dirt had already coated it. “Why are you here?” You snapped your head at him.

Jaehyun’s smirk faltered as he took in the condition of your face. You raised a brow. He held your chin, his face not giving away any emotions. Then he deadpanned, “Who did that to you?”

Automatically, you covered your nose with your hands, the spoon you were holding went flying to the ground as well. “Accident.” How did he manage to see the injury? You were certain that your nose still had the red tinge from yesterday’s brawl. Jaehyun shouldn’t be able to spot that you have yet obtained another fresh injury.

“Accident? On your first day of training?”

You nodded. “Yeah, earlier.”

“Then you’re dumber than I thought.”

With that, you landed a punch to his arm. His nose scrunched up as if he was in pain. “I know you weren’t hurt.” You rolled your eyes. It’s better if he doesn’t know who injured you on your first day. Eva almightily stared him down yesterday. And you know the scene didn’t settle right on Jaehyun. Best not to reveal everything to him.

“Why are you alone?”

“Lucas told me he’s going to check up on Eva and the others. You? Why are you out here in the sunlight?”  

Jaehyun leaned on the tree. “I was bored.”

“Bored? So you decided to risk your life out here in the open?”

“I can handle myself.” Then he reached his hands towards the little sunlight that had succeeded to infiltrate through the lush of the leaves.

“Jaehyun!” You tried to swat his hands away.

“Relax,” he assured you before continuing on his doing. Then it started. As the sunlight proceeded to touch Jaehyun’s skin, his flesh emitted thin layers of smoke. Faint smell of burning flesh mixed with the fresh air. You covered your nose from the stench.

“Stop that!” You wrenched his hands away from the ray of light. This time, he didn’t budge.

The back of Jaehyun’s hands continued to sizzle, but the smell was fleeting. Pinkish flesh could be seen from his scorched skin. He opened and closed his hands, as if to stretch the skin. Then the skin started to stitch itself back together until no trace of burned flesh could be seen.

“I do that some times to remind myself I’m still half-alive.”

Your eyes could not turn away from his hands. Vampires could heal themselves faster than any mortal devices could. But to witness it on your own, it still brought an unnerving feeling to settle in your bones.

“That’s…”

“Awesome?” Jaehyun raised a brow. Then he stood up, offering his hand to you. “Get up, I’ll teach you how to defend yourself better than Lucas.”

“I would say that was scary,” you teased before holding his hand to prop yourself. “Teach me your ways, your majesty.” You mockingly curtsied, earning a soft laugh from him.

“What did they teach you?”

You did Eva’s instruction from earlier. You raised your fist, the other resting on your sides. Then you stepped your one foot forward, the other digging in the ground. “This. And then Lucas taught me the correct ways to punch.”

Jaehyun pursed his lips to repressed a laugh. “Ten seconds in the battle and you’re dead.” Then he sauntered up beside you, “These are all useless. When you come face to face with a vampire, these postures won’t help you. You must study your opponent— and you could only do that if you let the vampire attack first.”  Jaehyun backwardly stepped away from you. His fingers moving, as if challenging you to a battle. “For this practice, I won’t use my swiftness,” he stated before running towards you as if to attack.

Your heart thudded in your chest. He looked ready to hurt you. So you did the one thing you could do then, you covered your head with your arms.

“Dead,” Jaehyun muttered. You waited for the impact, but none came. So you opened your eyes. His hand were splayed, inches away from your suit. “Don’t cower, Y/N. Study my attacks.”

“You’re scary,” you whispered, embarrassed to admit the words.

“I am deadly attractive, Y/N. And you say you’re scared of me. What more if you come to battle with an unattractive vampire?”

With that, you raised a brow. Vampire venom does a lot of things. If you weren’t generally attractive in your mortal life, the venom could enhance your features, sculpting your visage to that of a pleasing one once you turn into a vampire. Jaehyun must have been extremely agreeable when he was still a mortal, for his face today could rival the beauty of gods.

You shook your head, aiming for your focus. “Let’s try again.” Eva’s instructions flew away from your memory as Jaehyun attacked you yet again. He was swift, even without his power.

“Dead.” He smiled when he captured your neck. His hands once again splayed as if to chop your head off your body.

You sighed but never hesitated, so you defended yourself again and again.

“Dead,” he chuckled.

“Dead.”

“You’re dead, Y/N.”

You wiped your brow with the back of your hand, “This is frustrating!”

“C’mon! Don’t give up. Pay attention to my attacks.”

Jaehyun strike at the side of your waist, but you defended yourself by turning to avoid his hands. Then he attacked your head, you crouched as fast as you could. His knee was about to collide with your face when you pushed it away with your palms. You wheeled your body away, and attempted to punch him right in his face, where he was defenseless. But as your fist was about to strike at his cheek, he turned on his side and caught your arm. His smirk returned as he saw the realization dawning across your face.

Jaehyun’s left hand caught yours, then he pinned it behind you. While his other hand held your right. You were now immovable. Defeated.

“Dead,” he whispered, his breath fanning your cheek.

One swift move and your lips would surely collide. All your muscles stilled, the somersaulting of your heart was so loud. You fought the urge to crash your lips against his, even though it was so tempting to do so. Jaehyun has a fiancée. But the words weren’t enough to move your body away from him. It was ludicrous.

Jaehyun closed the space between the two of you, but before he could land his lips against yours, someone interrupted the both of you. His lips landed on the side of your head instead when you pulled away from him.

Lucas and Eva came into view. With the latter plastering a deep frown across her face. She was obviously unhappy of what she saw. Yet you could not be bothered by her reaction.

“I see that you’re practicing another techniques, Y/N.” Eva smiled, but there was no friendliness attached to her face.

What’s happening to her? Yesterday, she was so enthusiastic. Friendly, even.

“What do you mean?” You dared ask as you straightened your back.

Eva raised her brow, “Seduction is a weapon not all girls could wield. I admire your technique.”

“Eva–!” Lucas grabbed her arm, but she held her chin high.

Seduction? Does your position screamed seduction to her? You won’t admit it, but her words jabbed a shard on your chest. You don’t need to seduce your way to triumph.

“Eva.”

The three of you snapped your head to Jaehyun. He was standing beside you, his hands hidden in the pocket of his jeans.

“Eva, right?” When Eva nodded, Jaehyun continued, “You’re not my type.”

“Excuse me?!” Eva’s eyes widened. Lucas pursed his lips tighter. While you remained standing beside Jaehyun.

“I can hear your heart, you know. Do you want me to narrate the things that’s going on in your head? Of how you dreamt about me— even though you’ve only met me yesterday?” Jaehyun’s words were as flat as the ground underneath your feet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She half-screamed. But you didn’t miss the bobbing of her throat nor the perspiration slowly coating her forehead. Now, you are absolutely curious about her dreams even though knowing means breaching her privacy.

“You do. And quit bitching around. You’re supposed to train Y/N, not humiliate her.”

“He’s right, Eva.” Lucas chimed in.

Eva snapped her head towards him. “Shut up!” she seethed. Then she turned her head back to Jaehyun, her eyes like fiery coals. “And you shut up, vampire.”

When Jaehyun attempted to reiterate, you held up your hand. Whatever secret he has in the back of his tongue, you won’t hear it. It would humiliate Eva further. And you didn’t want that.

“You are weak, Y/N. Weaker than what I have anticipated.”

Lucas held her arm tighter, pulling her away from you. “Shut up, Eva!”

Ice cold rage swept through your whole body. You furrowed your brows and sauntered up to face her. “What did you say?” Every last bit of patience you have for her is now clinging on a loose thread. One wrong word and you would certainly land your fist right in her face— to hell with the ramifications.

“Y/N, she didn’t mean it—”

“Oh, I meant it! I meant every word of it! You are weak and you will never be one of—”

Your palm smarted from the slap you gave her. But that wasn’t enough for the insult she’d thrown at you. You gathered a fistful of her hair and threw her to the ground. However, she regained her footing easily and landed a straight blow to your face. You staggered backward, but Jaehyun supported you upright.

“Remember what I told you,” he whispered before letting you go.

Eva ran towards you, her hands formed into fists. You raised your arms to cover your head, and you let her punch every opening to your body. Lucas attempted to pull Eva away, but Jaehyun clasped his hand around Lucas’ wrist. He mouthed ‘let them’ before nodding at you.

“You bitch!” Eva snarled.

Where did her hateful energy come from? Nevertheless, you’ve decided not to be affected. You struggled to memorize her every strike for your own advantage. And when you did succeed, an opening through her face greeted you. You landed your fist to her nose. The bones made a cracking sound, sending satisfaction all throughout your body. Eva fell on the ground. Before she could stand up, you sat on her stomach and raised your fist, ready to punch her again. But a viselike grip took hold of your wrist.

“Enough,” Jaehyun said.

You tried to catch your breath and calm your nerves. Eva still underneath you, clutching her nose. What have you done? You blinked and allowed Jaehyun to help you on your feet. Lucas aided Eva to stand up. The whole area was silent, save for your heavy breathings.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Lucas frowned, before guiding Eva away. But the woman refused to be guided by Lucas. She looked at you as if she wishes you dead.

“We’re not done, Y/N,” she warned.

A sarcastic laugh reverberated through you, “Alright, then.” Then you pinned her down with stare, “But know this, Eva, don’t you dare underestimate me again.”

[themodernvedic]

How to activate Chakras with Gayatri Mantra ?

The syllables of the gayatri mantra are said to positively affect all the chakras or energy centers in the human body. Hence, proper pronunciation and enunciation of the mantra is very important to activate chakras in your body. Scientists have investigated the vibrations produced by the gayatri mantra and have found that when this mantra is recited with correct pronunciation, as laid down in the Vedas, the atmosphere around becomes visibly illumined. When this mantra is chanted, it is said that Brahma-prakāsha, the Divine Effulgence, will descend on you, illuminate your intellect and light your path. Also repeating shanti, thrice at the end, of the repetition will give shanti or peace to the three entities in you viz body, mind, and soul and even help in activating the chakras of your body.

The masters of Mantra Vidya know that when we speak, the words are uttered by different parts of our mouth such as, throat (larynx), tongue, teeth, lips and the root of our tongue. During speech, the nerve-fibers of the mouth, from which the sound emits, stretch different parts of our body and pressurize the corresponding glands. If a particular gland, gets diseased or dysfunctional, we start stammering when we speak those specific words. There are many large and small, visible and invisible glands in our body. Yogis know that some specific energies, are hidden in all of these glands. Different words have different impacts on different glands, because of which, the energy of these glands gets stimulated.

How this science to activate chakra works? There are twenty-four letters in the Gayatri-Mantra which are related to twenty-four such glands located in the body which, on getting stimulated, activate and awaken the powers of righteous wisdom and enlightenment. By chanting the Gayatri Mantra, the sitar of the subtle (Sookshma) body, and the Sadhak can activate chakras in the process, tinkling twenty-four different points of our body, and creating sound waves which affect the important elements of the invisible world. It is this impact on the important elements which becomes more and more pronounced and tangible through regular chanting of the Gayatri Mantra. The flow of sound of these twenty-four letters of the Maha Mantra is of deep significance. The experts of the science of sound, know the powers hidden in sound and the results which can be achieved by its subtle vibrations. Sound is synonymous with Brahma. It is Brahma from whom the original creative vibration is generated, which is equivalent to seven-times chanting of OM. Just as the pendulum of a clock keeps on moving by swinging to and fro, the sound waves of Om create vibrations which regulate this creation. These vibrations lead to generation of the three main waves of Sat, Raj and Tam related to Hreem, Shreem and Kleem elements respectively. It further gets divided into branches and sub-branches which are known as Beej-Mantras. The letters, words and clauses of the Gayatri Mantra have been analysed by seer vision. The vibrations generated due to the gayatri mantra, emanate from the unified field of creative energy, and are arranged in a specific, special sequence forming a large number of inter-relationships. The Gayatri-mantra when Chanted with sincere devotion, plugs the sadhak’s soul into the supreme and inexhaustible fountain of spiritual energy. For example, Singing of the Deepak-rag with sincere devotion lights up extinguished lamps. Similarly a practitioner can light the lamps present in the body i.e  the practitioner can activate Chakras by chanting the proper mantras.

It starts raining when the megh-malhar tune is sung. The warbling of cuckoo incites passion in men as well as women. Even strong iron bridges may collapse by the sound vibrations created by the in-step, coordinated and rhythmic marching of troop soldiers. This is the reason why armies are forbidden to march rhythmically, in-step, while crossing bridges. Dr. Hutchinson of America has achieved success and fame by curing several patients suffering from incurable and painful diseases, with the help of different musical sounds and vibrations. In India, Tantriks keep a Thali (large metallic plate) on a pot and play it like a drum, in a special rhythm. They are capable of curing persons bitten by poisonous snakes and scorpions. They are also capable of healing those suffering from thyroid goitre, Vishvel (poisonous creeper), ghosts, phobia, etc. The vibrations of a specific sound spread in the ether, attract atoms of similar type and return to their origin position within a few moments, duly charged with appropriate energy which  has a curative impact on the appropriate area. This is how Mantras have miraculous effects. The chanting of Gayatri Mantra activates a network of nerves in the mouth which in turn stimulates specific glands. As soon as the glands get stimulated, a Vedic symphony is created which spreads in the ether, takes a round of the entire universe and comes back to its source with its energy augmented manifold. The basis of hypnotism is to get the desired work done by the subject just by infusing faith in him. The Mantra of a Tantrik works miraculously on the patient only if he has deep faith in it. A Sadhak devoid of faith may utter a Tantrik Mantra hundreds of times but it will not have any effect on him. This fact applies to Gayatri Mantra as well. When the Sadhak takes up Sadhana with faith and confidence, Gayatri Mantra becomes much more effective and proves to be extra-ordinarily powerful due to the combined effect of faith and the Mantra’s own intrinsic spiritual energy. The sketch below depicts which particular letter of Gayatri is related to which part of the body.

Activate chakras with Gayatri Mantra Meditation Preferably in the morning before sunrise, sit straight with your head, neck and trunk aligned in a straight posture. Let your body and breath relax. Pay attention to the incoming and outgoing of your breaths. Continue breathing until a soft and rhythmical abdominal breathing gets established. Follow the energy centers systematically in ascending order, in the central channel, of the space behind the abdominal wall and the space in front of the spinal column Muladhara Chakra (Root chakra): Bring your attention to the tail bone and the pubic bone in the front, i.e. the pelvic floor area of your body. Slightly contract the pelvic floor to deepen your awareness of the region. Visualize the Sun, reddish, soft and gentle as it appears at the crack of dawn. Silently recite the Gayatri Mantra. Svadhishthana Chakra (Sacrum Chakra): In order to deepen your awareness of this Chakra, slightly contract the space between the sacrum at the back and the procreative organ in the front. Visualize the Sun moving up from the Muladhara Chakra into the Svadhishthana Chakra. Silently recite the Gayatri mantra. Manipura Chakra (Navel Center): In order to deepen the awareness of this Chakra region focus your attention on the space between your navel and the lumbar region. Exhaling while gently pulling in the navel can sharpen your concentration on the Manipura region. Visualize the sun, as it would shine an hour or two later after the sunrise. Visualize the sun moving up from the Svadhishthana Chakra into the Manipura Chakra. Silently recite the Gayatri mantra. This will activate the chakra of the Sun. Anahata Chakra (Heart Center): In order to deepen your awareness, concentrate your attention on the space between the heart region in the front and the spinal discs between your shoulder blades. Visualize large bright Sun rising from the Manipura Chakra through the central channel to the center of the heart area. Silently recite the Gayatri mantra. Vishuddha Chakra (Throat Chakra): Bring your attention to the space between the pit of your throat and the spinal column right behind.it. Visualize the Sun moving up from the Anahata Chakra up to the Vishuddha Chakra. Silently recite the Gayatri mantra. Talu Chakra/ Lalana Chakra (Uvula/soft palate center): Deepen your awareness on the space between the uvula/soft palate in the front and your neck discs in the posterior. Visualize the Sun moving up from the Vishuddha Chakra through the central channel up to the uvula/soft palate. Silently recite Gayatri mantra. Ajnya Chakra (The Eye-Brow Center): Deepen your awareness on the space from behind the eye-brow center to the Occiput area/cervical discs in your back. Visualize the Sun moving up from the Talu Chakra through the central channel up to the Ajnya Chakra. Silently recite Gayatri mantra. This will activate the chakra of the third eye. Sahasrara Chakra (The Crown Chakra): Deepen your awareness of and around the crown of your head. Visualize the Sun moving up through the central channel from Ajnya Chakra to Sahasrara Chakra. Visualize the brilliant sun with its rays spreading out like thousand petals of lotus into the space beyond. Silently recite the Gayatri mantra. This will activate the chakra which connects us with the cosmos.

You may end your Gayatri mantra Chakra practice at this point. You may do as many rounds as you like depending upon the time you have. How to Open Third Eye with Gayatri Mantra Meditation Below are the step-by-step instructions on how to do this meditation in order to open the Third Eye Chakra: Sit in any cross legged posture you like. You can also do this meditation on a chair. Elongate your spine and tuck your chin in slightly (like a soldier at attention). Bring your hands in Gyan mudra. Then, rest your wrists gently on your knees, with your palms pointing in the upward direction. Close your eyes and turn them upwards such that you looking through the center of your forehead. This is Shambhavi mudra. Do this mudra for as long as it is comfortable.Don't Over-do it. Release your eyes whenever necessary and continue with the meditation, reapplying it when ready. Start chanting the Gayatri Mantra mentally. Visualize the vibrations emanating out from your Third Eye, Chakra Point. Continue to chant the mantra silently. You can do this meditation for as long as you like. Start with 3 minutes and build up with time and regular practice.

Activate Chakras with the Gayatri Mantra Kriya The following is a long version of the Gayatri-Mantra, which helps us activate chakras and the lokhas (heavens) in our awareness, which leads us to enlightenment. It may be practiced with or without the kriyas (actions). Kriyas are said to connect us with our atman (soul) and activate chakras. The kriyas should be practiced with the right hand only. Open your hand with the palm facing in the upward direction. When using the kriyas, it is recommended that you repeat the mantra three times and then continue repeating either the long or short version of the Gayatri mantra at least ten more times without the kriyas.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SarlTxrAbIY Read the full article

[irazor]

hhhhh OR 78

(like a jealous even or smth… idk whatever is inspo to the magic)

Babe! 

Here’s part 3 of the childhood friends au for you. This turned out… even longer, haha, hence the ‘read more’. I hope you’ll like it! ❤️

(part 1 | part 2)

78. “I’m just looking out for you.”

The evening sky is a dark blue, and the late August air chilly as Isak opens the window above his desk.

“What are you doing?”

He turns his head to see Even watching him, standing on the floor with an amused grin on his face.

“Just wait. You’ll like it.”

In fact, he’s not too sure that Even will like this.

But he’s got enough hope that it’ll impress him. So, he reaches for his shirt pocket and, with a smile, he produces the joint he snuck in there when Even said goodbye to his parents in the hallway.

Even raises his eyebrows. “That’s what they taught you at scout camp?”

“Yeah.” He leans back against the window frame. “Among other things.”

Even gives him a lop-sided smile, before he climbs the desk and leans back against the other side of the window.

The dark shades under his eyes are even more pronounced now in the dusk, as are the hollows beneath his cheek bones.

Earlier on, when it’s been more than a month between their family dinners, it’s always been because of Isak’s mum. 

This time, however, it’s been over two months since the last one, and she’s been more stable than in a long time.

It could, of course, be due to the summer holidays. To the fact that he was to scout camp for ten days, and that Even was on some exchange program thing in England for three weeks.

But he can’t shake the feeling that, this time, the hiatus has something to do with Even.

Not that he hasn’t heard from him – they’ve been texting on and off, but they haven’t talked. And sometimes there’s been a delay of several hours, even a day, before Even has replied.

Usually, the month-long breaks between dinners have at least included a few nights of hanging out, just the two of them.

But this time he didn’t see Even at all. Two long, dry months, and he hasn’t even been able to decide if it’s been for the better, or worse.

At first sight of him in the hallway earlier, though, he knew. He’s missed him so much, so fucking much – he’s just been really good at imagining that he hasn’t.

And maybe he imagines the shade flashing across Even’s face as he holds out the joint towards him, or he doesn’t.

“Don’t you want some?” He raises an eyebrow at Even. “It’s good stuff.”

“Is it?” Even eyes the joint, then him. “Where did you get it, by the way?”

He shrugs. “Jonas has this new guy in his German class who fixes us up.”

“Did you try it?” Even bites his lip, a serious look on his face.

Isak rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ve been smoking before, it’s no big deal.”

“I’m just looking out for you.” Even gives him an undecipherable look. And then, at last, he reaches out for the joint and lifts it to his mouth.

God. The way Even looks when he smokes.

His full lips closing around the white paper, his blue eyes almost grey in the evening light. The red glow from the tip when he takes a drag a stark contrast to his pale face.

The tips of Isak’s fingers already tingle as he accepts the joint back. “It’s good shit, right?”

“Yeah.” Even looks out the window, gaze fastened somewhere in the distance. “Hope they don’t come to check on us. Your parents, I mean.”

“They’ve never done that before.” Isak takes another drag, the weed crackling in the silence. “Why now?”

Even shrugs. “Nah. You’re probably right.”

He looks at Even again, and wonders if he’s noticed how casually Isak knocks the ashes off the stub, or that he hasn’t coughed even once. If he’s seen that Isak has grown a whole five centimeters during the course of this summer.

They pass the joint back and forth in silence, until it’s finished, Isak’s limbs glued to the desk, his head swimming.

“Holy shit,” Even says as he unfolds his long legs from the desk and slides down onto the floor. “This is intense.”

Isak can barely will his mouth to cooperate enough to answer, and the room spins as he leans forward to close the window, one hand on the frame to steady himself. “Uhh. Yeah.”

For a moment, he thinks he’ll slip, but then he manages to catch the window and close it. When he turns around, he sees Even sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed, eyes closed.

His legs are wobbly as he climbs down from the desk and sits down beside him. “Hey. You – you okay?”

Even nods, but keeps his eyes closed. “Yeah. Whoa. I’m just – can we just sit here?”

“Yeah.”

It’s not like he’ll tell Even, but he hasn’t smoked that many times before – and never this much, this fast.

So much for trying to impress him.

He closes his eyes as well, but everything around him spins faster and faster as he does, so he pries them open again, trying to focus on something outside of himself to keep from feeling sick.

And first thing he sees is, of course, Even.

His arms are thin, and the skin on them is pale, despite the long, warm summer. A few stray hairs stand in the wrong direction, a path of brown freckles lining the sleeve of his t-shirt. His collarbone is visible through the thin fabric, and a thought flashes by – there’s something he should ask Even, something he’s been wondering –

It flits away just as fast, and he’s back to watching Even. His full lips, slightly parted, his eyelashes resting on the top of his cheeks, the soft strands of hair falling over his forehead.

He’s never wanted anything more than he wants to kiss him right now.

His fingers are itching, and the skin on his whole body tingles, like there’s something alive underneath the surface. But his limbs feel like they’re made of lead, heavy against the floor, unable to move.

Suddenly, Even blinks, opens his eyes, and looks straight at him. And time stops.

It’s probably due to the weed, but in this moment, it feels like the only things to exist are him, Even, and the sound of their breaths in the silent room.

Neither of them say anything, or move. His whole body still molten into the floor, his head glued to the side of the mattress. His hand on the floor between them, still and unmoving.

The blue of Even’s eyes is pale, his pupils dark and wide, and Isak both sees and hears the apple of his throat move as he swallows.

He has no idea for how long they sit there, suspended in time, breathing, staring at each other, the air between them thick and non-existent all at once.

Until a sharp knock on the door tears the moment apart.

“Isak?” His mother’s voice sounds distorted, like it’s filtered through water instead of a thin wooden door. “Even?”

He clears his throat. The movement feels disconnected from himself, like it’s someone else’s body doing it, before he hears his own voice, hoarse and thick. “We’re – we’re sleeping.”

“Almost,” Even adds, his voice gravelly.

There’s a moment’s silence on the other side of the door, before his mother says “Alright. Goodnight then, boys.”

“Goodnight.” He lifts his hands and turns them over, to see if they still feel like his own.

The high is already starting to wear off, and in a not too pleasant way, the tingling on his skin more and more uncomfortable. “Maybe we should go to bed.”

Even nods, slowly. “Yeah.”

They brush their teeth in silence, Isak sitting on the toilet seat, Even leaning over the sink, one hand on the cabinet beside him.

The prickling feeling in his limbs hasn’t subsided as he lies in bed a few minutes later.

It’s like he doesn’t fit into his skin, like he’s too big and too small for it all at once. Like he should get out, go somewhere else, but has no idea where.

He tries to lie still and not wake Even by scraping his feet against the bedsheets, but it’s more and more difficult with each passing second.

Just as he’s about to turn and get out of bed, Even’s voice comes up from the mattress on the floor, and it sounds smaller than he’s ever heard it.

“Can I sleep in your bed? I don’t – I don’t feel so well.”

To be honest, he’s not sure how do handle the thought of Even in his bed right now.

But, on the other hand, lying here alone is an even worse option.

“Okay.” He scoots a little closer to the wall to make room for Even, and bites the inside of his cheek.

As the mattress dips behind him, he tries not to tense up, but he’s not sure how well he manages.

His whole body feels like a live wire, alight with anxiety from the weed, and from the knowledge that Even lies only inches behind him.

And then Even’s chest is against his back, Even’s arm is around his waist, his hand on his shoulder, and he wants to cry with relief.

It’s like his touch draws all the discomfort out of him, makes it seep out and dissolve, leaving only warmth and contentedness behind.

His throat constricts, and the inside of eyes prickle. If this isn’t supposed to be his, why does it feel so fucking right?

He tries to breathe steady, tries to keep control over his body and not lean too much into the touch, and then Even exhales, his breath warm on his neck.

“I – I felt really weird there for a while.” His voice is low, cracked, still small.

He swallows. “Me too.”

“Thanks for… for letting me sleep up here,” Even says next. “I – it feels a lot better now when I’m with you.”

It takes all of his efforts to not turn around in that moment.

If he would, he’d never be able to hold back from kissing Even, to let every inch of their body touch.

And what if Even would reciprocate, hold him and kiss him back, and then regret it when he’s sober?

Having Even like that and then lose him would be worse than never having him at all.

So he lies still, stares into the wall, and settles for the weight of Even’s arm across his chest.

It’s not until Even’s breaths have evened out and become heavier, that he dares to stroke his thumb over his wrist, the pulse beneath the thin skin slow but steady.

–––––

It’s still dark when he wakes up.

At first, he doesn’t realize that he’s awake. Only feels this encompassing, intense feeling of contentment, of fullness and belonging, and he recognizes it from somewhere – a dream? a memory?

Until he suddenly becomes aware of where he is.

Lying with his face in the crook of Even’s neck, his nose and lips touching the thin skin over his pulse point, with his arm slung around Even’s back, Even’s arm around him, their legs intertwined.

Just like the last time.

Horrified, he snaps his head up, and opens his eyes.

Only to find that Even – unlike the last time – is wide awake, and is looking straight at him.

His eyes are pale in the dark, his breathing steady, and he blinks, once, twice, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Isak. Just watches him with a sincere, serious look on his face.

“Why – why aren’t you sleeping?” His own voice sounds hoarse, cracked.

Even bites his lip, then releases it. “I… don’t know.”

His stare is unwavering, and Isak doesn’t know how to look away. “How… how long have you been awake for?”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?” Even’s voice is low, almost a whisper.

And then he lifts his hand from Isak’s back and puts a stray lock of hair behind his ear.

The look in his eyes is so fond as he does it that Isak is sure his heart will stop.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself. Doesn’t know where to put his hands, doesn’t know how to breathe.

Even’s arms are warm and heavy around him, and maybe he should move away. But he can’t. He can’t move a limb, not a single finger.

Only watch Even as he watches him, his thumb brushing over Isak’s cheek, his face suddenly closer, mere inches from his own.

Isak holds his breath. Waits. Holds it.

And then, just like that, he doesn’t have it in him to wait anymore.

He grabs hold of Even’s t-shirt at the back of his neck, draws a breath, and kisses him.

It’s just a touch of lips at first, before he pulls back, breath short, throat tight with what he’s done. Even’s are lips parted, and his eyes wide and full of wonder.

And before he has time to turn around and bury his face in the pillow, Even slides his hand around his neck, and kisses him back.

How many times has he imagined this, awake or in his dreams?

He has no idea.

All he knows is that he never thought it would feel like this.

As Even presses their lips together, opens his mouth and tilts his head to the side, he can feel goosebumps rise all over his skin. His mouth is so warm, and it sends tingles all the way down his spine as their tongues touch – only a brush, but it feels so much. 

And nothing could prepare him for the smallest, most important details: how Even’s breath warms his upper lip when his nose is aligned with Isak’s own. How his eyelashes tickle against his cheek. Or how his breath stutters as Isak dares move his hand down to his upper back, and press him closer.

They kiss and kiss and kiss until he loses track of time, without any idea how long they’ve been lying here. His chest feels tight and endlessly full at the same time – if he could, he’d crawl inside Even, let himself be surrounded by him and stay there.

To be honest, he’s a bit afraid of what will happen when they stop. What Even will say. What will become of them.

Right now, he’s not sure he wants to know. 

So, he keeps kissing him, again and again, ignoring the way his lips tingle and that his mouth starts to feel dry.

At last, Even draws back and lays his head down on the pillow. His eyes are wide, and he licks his lips, swollen and red. It’s silent for a beat as they watch each other, and Isak holds his breath, waiting.

Until finally, Even lifts his hand to Isak’s face, cards his fingers through the hair at his temple, and speaks.

“Do you – do you remember that day when I waited for you? At school?”

He feels weightless, short of breath. “Yeah.”

“Do you remember what I said? On the sidewalk?” Even’s palm is warm and big against his cheek, unmoving.

“You – you said that you didn’t know if you were into guys. Instead of girls.”

“No, I didn’t.” Even moves even closer, their foreheads touching.

“Yes. You did.”

“No.” Even smiles, and traces his eyebrow with his thumb. “I said a guy.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, then. But I – I didn’t know what you meant, if you meant like, someone specific, like someone in your class, or guys in general –”

“God, Isak.” Even’s eyes almost disappear as he smiles even bigger, and shakes his head. “You’re so fucking thick sometimes.”

But the way he says it makes Isak’s insides fill with warmth.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much this summer.” He lets his own hand come to rest around the back of Even’s head.

Suddenly, Even’s face is serious again, his eyes blank. “Me too.”

“Where were you?” He moves his hand down to Even’s neck, fingers carding through the hair behind his ear.

“I – can we talk about it later? I really wanna tell you… everything.” Even bites his lip, before he looks down at Isak’s mouth, and then into his eyes again. “But – right now, can we just… kiss again? Please?

Even’s pulse beats quickly underneath his palm, alive, steady.

They do need to talk, of course. About a lot of things. What this means. Their parents, the future. Everything.

Right now, though, there’s only them, here in his bed, under the duvet.

So he nods, and holds on to Even’s neck, before he leans in, and kisses him again.

[chaoticblades]

Wing Meta: Kalas

Now that the holidays (and extended family interactions =____=) are over, let’s talk about our favorite fuckup! :D

I think this one has even more spoilers than the Xelha post.

Wing Meta: Xelha

Wing Meta: Savyna and Lyude

So, good ol’ カラス. There’s little point in speculating about the inspiration for his wings (since the game is very, very clear on the raven theme), buuuut I’m gonna do it anyway ‘cause that’s just the kinda guy I am.

Well, that and the fact that they’re no ordinary corvid wings. They’ve got a distinctive hook off the wrist, which is most likely an unusually pronounced alula (aka bird thumb), meaning that what we’re looking at is exposed bone. Spooky! (Also appropriate, given the whole carrion bird/harbinger of apocalypse thing.)

Fun fact! According to Wikipedia, “alula” translates to “winglet”! And it’s also called a “bastard wing”. And Kalas has no parents, so....

Anyway, his wing is otherwise a fairly standard shape for that family... except for the pronounced secondaries. Alas, I’m not actually a bird person so I won’t speculate further about that (so as to spare myself any more hours of futile corvid research. The winglet diagram comes in real handy here, since it’s basically a mirrored skeleton of his other wing). Finally, he’s got falcon-like stripes on his pinions resulting in a mix of browns and greys.

Even expanding into other corvid species, I could’t find any that truly matched these details.

In any case, onto symbolism!

Ravens are consistently depicted across cultures as tricksters and omens of misfortune and death, though the latter is isn’t nearly as universal. 

Trickster Ravens

Corvids in general are considered highly intelligent birds, an attribute that they mainly use for theft. For example, they’ve been known to yank the tails of other birds/animals in order to distract them from a tasty, tasty meal. Magpies in particular have such a rep for stealing End Magnus shinies that they’ve become synonymous with the act in much the same way as we use “packrat” to describe a hoarder and “chicken” a coward.

Ravens As Omens

In Greek tradition, a white raven was Apollo’s messenger. Ravens are more relevant in terms of the practice of augury, a form of divination in which certain birds are observed for signs of favor/displeasure of the gods. Ravens (and crows) fall under the label of “oscines”, or birds whose omens are determined based upon their calls. They aren’t regarded as being inherently unlucky (that dubious honor goes to the owl).

According to Wikipedia (citation desperately longed for), in Serbian folklore ravens “appear in pairs and play the role of harbingers of tragic news... in combination with female characters as receivers of the news”.

Unlike black cats, there’s an emphasis on ravens as a sign of misfortune to come rather than an embodiment of it. Similarly, they don’t directly symbolize death; instead they’re merely associated with it, much in the way one might associate the fall colors with the coming winter.

Ravens in Japanese Folklore

I went through many layers of questionable research to get this info, so it damn well better be accurate.

Yatagarasu, the 3-legged crow, was a guide sent by Amaterasu to Emperor Jimmu in order to guide his lost ass to his future seat of power.

Seen here: Yatagarasu and Jimmy’s lost ass (left).

After Google Fu’ing for awhile to figure out the meaning behind a sentence found word-for-word and lacking citation in nearly every article on Yatagarasu, I finally managed to track down an additional piece of lore: he is apparently an incarnation of Kamo Taketsunumi no Mikoto, god of good fortune and founder of the Kamo clan (???? Maybe??? All those articles weren’t kidding when they said the legends of Yatagarasu are contradictory).

Color Symbolism

This is, of course, something the varies from culture to culture. The relevant symbols here are black and white.

Black

West

death/void

authority

evil

mystery

Japan

evil

bad luck (take this with a grain of salt--I don’t trust my sources on this)

White

West

purity

peace

holiness

sterility

Japan

death

mourning

simplicity/purity

Interpretation

Kalas and Fate

So how does this shape how we can interpret Kalas?

It’s best to start with how he got the name in the first place.

Hearing you were not the perfect being [Geldoblame] had envisioned, he called you an ill omen, a cursed premonition of things to come. He named you Kalas, which means Raven in a long-lost language.

Larikush, on the origin of Kalas’ name

I guess it was the reason for my existence, and my hatred.... Something I just couldn’t get rid of.

Kalas, on why his name was the only thing he remembered after Alfard

And, of course, straight from Emperor Gelnochill himself:

I found you Kalas, you sickly raven!!!

Geldohead, triple exclamation his

I find Kalas’ comment the most interesting, since it’s an explicit reference to the theme of destiny yes I said it that is woven into the Baten Kaitos as a whole. One of the things I really like about this series is the interplay between fate and choice--many characters have fated roles (Kalas, Xelha, Melodia, Mizuti, Sagi, Guillo, people touched by the Dark Brethren in general) but even as they fulfill them, the narrative never treats it as if free will is antonymous with these events.

Dr. Georg’s experiments were aimed at creating a Magnus of Life. This would be the exact opposite of the End Magnus, which are symbols of death and destruction... Kalas and Malepercio may have been destined to fight one another....Kalas could be said to be a bad omen for Malpercio, a harbinger of the god’s demise

Lyude, on something that’s really sad once you’ve played Origins

Love and hatred... Melodia[sic], and Kalas... She is Malpercio’s curse to the world, Kalas must be his prayer...

Xelha, ditto

“Fate” is largely played as being somewhere between divine intervention and the consequences of choice (e.g. Malpercio seeking power from the Dark Brethren put everything in motion), hence why the Magnus of Life could and did choose not to oppose Malpercio at first. It makes for an interesting hierarchy of power, like an arch.

The Dark Brethren can be considered the keystone and Malpercio the arch itself--it is by their power that Malpercio is what it is, their locking the gods into position that keeps them from acting of their own will. Melodia and Kalas are outside forces, bound to--but unfettered by--the conflict between master and unwilling servant. Despite their role as pawns, they’re the ones with the most power. Influence can be asserted over them, but in the end it’s their hands that decide if the keystone is restored or removed.

Kalas’ identity as the ominous raven is the perfect example of this theme at play. He’s repeatedly acknowledged as an entity of misfortune, but ultimately it’s his will that decides whose. He’s no passive auspice--bad things may happen to those around him, but only by way of his own agency (and the of others. Looking at you, Geldoblameworthy-for-his-own-problems). Even at the very end, when Melodia chooses to surrender to fate, it’s he who rescues her and tells Malpercio to rest.

He and Melodia can be considered the pair of ravens, Xelha the receiver, as per her witnessing them discuss their plans in Moonguile.

Kalas the Trickster

Kalas is possibly the most wily protagonist who isn’t straight up a villain I have ever seen. Street smart, people smart, and a fantastic actor, he’s able to pull the wool over the eyes of basically anyone who isn’t already aware of what he’s trying to do. It can be surmised that he’s also gifted at sleight of hand, given that no one noticed him slip an ever-glowing magnus to the ducal heir of Mira.

The entire first half of the game is an elaborate trick on the Guardian Spirit and Malpercio, fooling them about their memories and using them as a buffer against Malpercio’s power (though one has to wonder if that wasn’t just a trick on Melodia’s part, as Kalas was already exposed to that power. It would absolutely be in character for him to nope out of the picture if he thought that coming in contact would turn him into a boob monster).

As is common in the trickster archetype, he rarely relies on brute force to achieve his goals, to the point that one of the major character shifts in the late game is him swearing to take down Malpercio. Giacomo is his other blind spot, his mere appearance sending Kalas into an otherwise unseen rage. It’s easy to overlook that these are the exceptions, given how prominent they are (and how they launch you into one of the more dreaded fights in the game).

However, when it comes down to it, most of his work is done so quietly, it becomes a major reason to replay, just to see if you can catch him. Right from the get-go, he uses Xelha’s reference to Moonguile as an excuse to head on in. When she gets mad at him for looting, he restructures his argument to appeal to emotionalism and lets her believe what she wants. And while he initially resists joining up with her, he has no problem travelling together for convenience sake (and later, presumably, to stay close to the Earth Pendant and Chaotic Trio). Then there’s his efforts to direct suspicion onto Lyude. Despite coming across as the brashest member of the party, he frequently hides behind the others in this manner.

Yatagarasu

This section won’t be as carefully constructed as the others, but I believe the allusion is intentional. For the purpose of this argument, I’m going to have Kalas’ 3 arms--his arm arms/winglets and his natural wing--stand in place of Yatagarasu’s 3 legs. (Alternatively, one could count his original wing and the white wings, but I’m not going to for reasons to be indicted.)

Xelha takes the part of Jimmu, the royal wanderer. It was, after all, her dream of Kalas that was the inciting incident for her entire part in the story, returning him to the role of omen. It lead her to send out the witches, spy on Geldoblame, and bring Kalas along even knowing his intentions. In times of uncertainty throughout the story, she turns to her desire to save him as a source of strength and guidance.

Kalas: Black and White

Melodia refers to him both as “dark-winged stranger” and “white-winged darkness”. Kalas’ treatment in the narrative is interesting regarding the idea of purity. His lack of a second wing leads to him being ostracized by everyone from Geldoblame to some Miran randos. Larikush links the single wing to Kalas being “excessively human” and Balancoir Asshole #2′s “Malformed wings are the direct result of a malformed heart. His soul must have been tainted at birth”.

Of course, once he’s touched by Malpercio, he gains a (literally) shiny new pair of wings. This is also the point where he goes from morally distraught antihero to unrepentant mwahaha’er, only changing back when he makes the choice to rip out his additional wing.

The color symbolism is a little hard to decipher here, given that it’s an Eastern game but Kalas’ design is more West-inspired than just about any other character. From a Western perspective, it’s a fairly clear-cut juxtaposition of contrary symbols--his dark wings initially foreshadow his betrayal but ultimately are associated with his good side while the white represent the acceptance he seeks but are tainted by evil.

Kalas is the fallen angel, right down to Xelha being drawn to him like a moth to flame. I could probably make a whole section on Kalas being a croc-wearing anime Lucifer but I’m kinda really uncomfy with the Church, so I’d rather save myself that stretch.

In Japan it gets more complicated, assuming that that info regarding black’s symbolism is accurate. Because while the white of death is suitable for the dark harbinger, black isn’t terribly befitting of the Divine Child. It’s possible it’s a reference to the fact that Kalas wasn’t originally the Divine Child but *shrug*

Uh, so yeah. There’s plenty more I could say but this is already too long ^^;

[pagemichelle1992]

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[lindafrancois]

5 Lessons Learned From a Skinny Nerd Deadlifting 420 Pounds

I did it.

I proved somebody wrong on the internet!

I assume the internet will be mailing me a gold medal at any point this week, but until then, let me share the story.

I gave a TedX talk years ago, and I mentioned one of my long-term goals was being able to lift 400 pounds:

My first thought: “Ouch.”

My second thought: “Why am I reading YouTube comments!? No good can come of this.”

My third thought: “I’m gonna prove this person wrong.”

As a skinny nerd with chicken legs that couldn’t build muscle to save my life, this far-off goal suddenly seemed even further off.

Fast forward to last week: not only did I FINALLY reach my 10 year goal of deadlifting 400 pounds, I blew right past it. No straps, no belt. Just some chalk and “internet justice” rage to pick up 420 pounds at a bodyweight of 172 pounds.

Not bad for a skinny nerd with a crooked spine!

Below, I share the video and the 5 key lessons I’ve learned on this long, comical, painful journey.  

#1: Screw Your Genetics.

I have the genes of an elf, without the immortality or cool ears.

I’m naturally very thin, have very thin wrists and ankles, and will forever have chicken legs.

This would be great, if I wanted to be a runner. Not great when you despise running, and you want to pick up heavy things.

Determined to overcome that fate, I began my journey to heavy lifting, only to get knocked back.

6 years ago, I discovered my genes also contain a super fun condition called “spondylolisthesis.”

Don’t bother trying to pronounce it, I still can’t.

It means my vertebrae don’t line up. Essentially, my L5 and S1 are less structurally aligned than a deep-game Jenga tower (Read how I used the “Iron Man Technique” when I got diagnosed).

Jenga: fun for game night, not for spinal metaphors.

When I first learned this, I initially assumed it meant my short lived career as a powerlifter was over, and threw myself one HELL of a pity party.

After that party ended, I got back on the horse.

(Not literally. I don’t have a horse.)

I started working on my deadlift form and core strength. I checked my ego, established a new “square one,” and essentially started over.

Thank god I refused to accept my fate.

Now, obviously I’m not a doctor – I don’t even have pants on right now – so you’re going to need to work with trained professionals if you have a serious medical condition you’re working to overcome.

In my instance, I decided that I didn’t want my genetics to decide my fate: that chicken legs and a crooked spine could be managed. While I might never reach my 10-year goal of a 400 pound deadlift, I’d get started and adjust along the way.

Yup, I know plenty of people can lift WAY more than I can. That’s cool! I’m competing against the ghost of my former self (like a Mario Kart time trial), and that’s all I can do.

I know I’m fighting an uphill battle when I focus on powerlifting when I’m much more likely to be good at running or another endurance activity. That sounds like my personal hell, so I’m gonna play THIS version of life on expert difficulty.

LESSON LEARNED: If you don’t like the game you’re playing, pick a different one! Who cares what your genetics are. You can’t do anything about them. All you can do is play the hand you’re dealt.

If you are a big-boned individual built for strength, and you want to be a marathon runner, GREAT! Start training for a 5k today. Who cares if you’re slow as molasses!

If you are built to run and want to strength train because that’s what brings you joy, go pick up heavy shit! Who cares if the person next to you can lift more? Are YOU lifting more than you did the day before?

We can only blame our parents for so much. Thanks for the crooked spine and acne, DAD.

(Kidding, my dad is cool as hell. He taught me to play poker when I was 5).

#2: Fail You Will. Learn, You Must.

After figuring out my spine sucked, I decided to hire my friend Anthony to coach me via email.

Because I couldn’t lift heavy to start, I had to reallllly focus on my form. It gave all of my muscles and tendons a chance to get caught up to speed.

So I spent two years making steady progress, which was awesome.

And then I went on vacation, where I severely strained my conjoint tendon. 

Lesson learned: never go on vacation again.

My injury was so brutal that I was convinced I had a hernia. I ended up getting an ultrasound on my crotch from two female ultrasound technicians, which was in no way at all awkward.

Kidding. It was comically awkward.

Anyways.

After taking multiple weeks off from lifting anything heavy, I started rehab, checked my ego (again), and had to rebuild my form (again), going backwards by 250+ pounds and starting over again.

I felt like Sysphysis, rolling a rock up a hill only to have it roll all the way back down.

Or Charlie Brown trying to kick a football:

But I kept at it. I learned to improve my form. I changed my breathing technique for lifting. And I accepted that I had to go backward in order to eventually break through.

For reference, click through these images and videos below. The “Before” took place before my injury, while the “After” is just a month or two back:

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Aug 15, 2018 at 1:32pm PDT

LESSON LEARNED: Always be learning, when you win or when you lose. Setbacks can be crippling, or they can be painful lessons learned that make you more powerful. I really didn’t have a choice.

You’re gonna get shin splints or plantar fasciitis when you start training for your 5k. Literally everybody does. Take it as a sign you need to fix your running form!

You’re gonna screw up on a lift. Take it as a chance to scale back and rework your form. Video tape your form and check with somebody

You’re gonna get sick and screw up and miss a lift or a hold or a thing. It happens. You can’t change the past (yet), so might as well learn from it and move forward. Rafiki gets me:

#3) Want to Reach a Far Off Goal? Use the Minecraft Strategy.

10 years ago, I had a goal I was racing towards: a 400 pound deadlift.

I’d get marginally closer and then have to back way off. This happened at least half a dozen times, a few of which were highlighted above.

I believe the reason I finally achieved that goal is because I stopped focusing on it! Instead, I just focused on the next workout, the next exercise, the next rep.

In other words: Don’t worry about the building you’re trying to construct. Instead, focus on putting the next brick in the right place, and then repeat. The building will take care of itself.

I call this the Minecraft Strategy.

As for my workouts, I train 4 days per week: Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday. One hour per workout. Each day has a big boring lift attached to it that doesn’t change much at all from week to week.

For the past four years, here’s the deadlift portion of a training day (after many warm-up sets):

Week 1: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 220 pounds.

Week 2: Sets of 3, 2, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 3: Sets of 3, 3, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 4: Sets of 3, 3, 3, for 220 pounds.

Week 5: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 225 pounds.

And repeat. Every week. Every month. Year after year. Notice that each week I added just ONE rep. And once I hit 3 sets of 3, I’d go up by 5 pounds, and start back at 2, 2, 2.

That is boring as hell. And effective too. Every single week I’d be setting a personal best! I didn’t care about the far-off goal of a 400-lb deadlift, I instead put all of my focus into “Can I crush this next rep?”

This is also EXACTLY how one simply walks into Mordor: one step at a time.

Two weeks ago, my “slow cook” deadlifting workout had me doing 3 sets of 3 reps at 385 pounds.

My coach told me: “Let’s go heavy next week. And I won’t accept anything less than 415 pounds.”

This was a goal I’d have forever, and Anthony had already set my sights 15 pounds heavier to calm my nerves on the psychological challenge of seeing that much weight on the bar.

So after picking up 405 for a warmup, I went for 420 pounds:

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Nov 21, 2018 at 10:43am PST

No belt, no straps.

Just some chalk and Walk the Moon’s “Portugal” on my headphones. Honestly, it was almost a letdown because it came up so quickly…but I was so damn proud to reach a powerful milestone, banish the monkey on my back, and actually feel strong.

Hence the quick fist pump to myself.

This week? It’s back to the boring stuff. Boring, consistent, progress where I just get epic results and feel really good about myself.

I’m okay with that. I jokingly talk about how I went from Steve Rogers to Captain America with this slow, small tactic.

LESSON LEARNED: Are you a shiny-object chasing “I need to be entertained and I change workouts every 3 weeks but I can never seem to get results” type of person?

Fall in love with the process and incremental progress, and you’re gonna go places kid.

Each week, just focus on being better than you did the week before. If you ONLY worry about this, you’ll look back at the end of the year and realize you’re a changed person.

Note: This means you need to show up each week, with few exceptions. Even when life is busy.

#4 – Track the Problem to Crack the Problem.

Fun fact: I currently have a folder in Evernote called “Kambsformation” (Anthony came up with it, and it just stuck).

In that folder, I have 1 note for every workout or progress photo from the past 5 years.

I now have 1159 notes in that folder:

As my friend Nick says, “You gotta track the problem to track the problem.”

I have tracked every single workout I’ve done since 2013 in this folder. I have them all in the same place, so I can quickly scan back to any date and time and see where I was, how I trained, and so on.

I know every week exactly what I need to do to be better than the week before. Using the Minecraft Strategy here, it just means I need to focus on ONE single rep heavier.

In addition to tracking my workouts, I’ve become diligent about tracking my calories too. I am not Paleo, or Keto, or Mediterranean.

Instead, I employ a “mental model” diet, with specific rules I follow:

Skip breakfast. I cover this in our guide on Intermittent Fasting.

Eat big after a workout. Adjust the rest of my calories based on goals.

Protein with every meal. Usually chicken.

Veggies with every meal. Brussel sprouts or broccoli.

Adjust carbs and fat to fit macro profile for that day.

A powerbomb shake to hit calorie goals. Water, oats, frozen berries, frozen spinach, and whey protein (I use Optimum Nutrition Vanilla).

Over the past 2 months, I’ve actually leaned out, from 185 pounds down to 172 pounds. I did that by adjusting my caloric intake very simply:

2600 calories on training days

2200 calories on non-training days.

For the first few weeks, I actually didn’t lose any weight despite “tracking my calories.” I still believed in thermodynamics, so I knew there was no nonsense like “metabolic damage” or a “slow metabolism.” Instead, I started weighing my portions (I like this food scale) and discovered a few key things.

Namely, that I was overeating without realizing it:

I was underestimating my oats portion by 50% when using a measuring cup instead of a scale. 1/2 cup of oats was more like 60g, not 40g.

My chipotle lunch contained 1.5 servings of rice by weight, not 1.

As soon as I made small adjustments to my portion sizes on these foods I ate consistently, my weight started to drop consistently.

So that takes care of my food, here’s how else I track my progress:

I take progress photos weekly and weigh myself each morning under the same circumstances.

I don’t freak out if the scale goes up or down. Instead, I take a 7-day rolling average and make sure the TREND is in the right direction.

Think of this like the bumper lanes in a bowling alley: As long as the ball is moving towards the pins, that’s good enough.

LESSON LEARNED: We pay attention to the things we track. So track the right stuff! This applies not only to health and fitness, but learning, personal finance, etc. Keep a journal, or an Evernote folder, or a Google Doc. Write down what you did, and what you’re going to do.

It’s valuable as hell. And I don’t care what kind of diet you pick: whichever one leads you to sustainable calorie management in a way that doesn’t make you want to punch a hole in the wall.

If the scale isn’t going down for you, it doesn’t mean that you have a slow metabolism, or that you’re broken. It means you are eating too many calories to induce weight loss. Track your calories more closely.  Use a scale if you need to, until you learn what actual portion sizes are.

Are you taking progress photos? They can be crucial for making sure you’re losing the right kind of weight!

Are you writing down your workouts or tracking them in an app? How else are you gonna know what you need to do this week to level up!?

#5) It’s Dangerous to Go Alone. Bring a friend.

I gotta give a shout out to my friend and coach, Anthony.

He’s been my online coach for the past 5 years and I truly consider him a valuable part of my success. He also has epic hair.

I’d say this is the best money I invest in myself each month – and I’m somebody that tells people how to exercise for a living!

When I’m traveling, or when I have busy weeks, my coach adjusts my schedule to make it work. When I am feeling good, well rested, and amped up, we crank things up. When I’m feeling overwhelmed he slows it down.

And most importantly, he doesn’t put up with my bullshit. You know what I mean – we all have excuses that we feed ourselves daily: too busy, I couldn’t because blah blah blah,.

I know Anthony doesn’t want to hear this stuff, so I just shut up and DO the work! It’s pretty awesome to have somebody else that’s invested in my success, somebody that I can bounce ideas off of, somebody that I know is keeping me accountable, checking my form, etc.

And maybe most importantly, I have the peace of mind to know that I’m actually doing the right stuff, and doing it correctly.

I feel confident saying I never would have lifted 420 pounds without my coach.

LESSON LEARNED: If you have the money to invest in yourself, hiring a coach who learns your story can be game changing. If you don’t, having a workout buddy in the trenches with you can be AMAZING too.

An accountabilibuddy, if you will.

We’re proud that we have an amazing online coaching program at NF, and we have an online community attached to our online course, the NF Academy.

I also know lots of people who work with trainers in person and they can be worth every penny (sometimes!)

If you want to take your fitness more seriously, invest in a coach if you can.

If you want to take running more seriously, join a running club.

If you want to bring a friend so you guys can lift together at the gym, do it!

You don’t have to go it alone on this journey, and oftentimes a coach or trusted friend can be an absolute game changer. It was for me.

I hope Anthony keeps me as a client for the next 5 years too.

I proved a troll wrong, now what!?

So I mentioned that I proved somebody wrong on the internet.

I mostly say this in jest.

The dude probably didn’t think twice about his comment, and hasn’t thought about it since.

Am I gonna try to right every wrong on the internet? Nope.

People say really nasty things about me all the time, that just comes with the territory. It hurts like hell. And I’ve become much better at ignoring it.

So screw the haters, I say. I don’t have time for them. I’m too busy helping people and writing about Star Wars and sometimes wearing pants (today is not that day).

So, although I jokingly say that “I owned that troll,” the reality is that it just.

doesn’t.

matter.

I’m really proud of this accomplishment, and I hope my recap can help you crystallize the goals you have floating around your head.

These days, my goals are tighter, and more focused on the process:

Work out 4 days per week, no exception.

Hit my calorie goals 6 days out of 7 each week.

Be better than the last workout.

I’m working on my handstands, mobility, and gymnastic rings stuff…but I’m gonna keep grinding on my deadlifts and squats too.

Considering how quickly that 420 pound deadlift came up, I wonder if I get a 500 pound deadlift…

No way, won’t happen. EVER. Not with these genetics 😛

(I’ll let you know in 5 years).

I’d love to hear from you: do you have a big “dragon slaying” goal you’re working towards in the future?

What can you take from this article and apply to your journey?

For the Rebellion!

-Steve

PS: We are hiring 2-3 certified coaches to join our NF Coaching Program! This is a 100% remote work-from-anywhere position. If you think you’d be a good fit, or know somebody that would, please check out our “work with us” page!

###

All photo credits can be found in this very special footnote[1].

Footnotes    ( returns to text)

Photo Source: Promenade, Mirkwood Elf Archer, Hate leads to suffering, Ready for Scotland, Ready for War

5 Lessons Learned From a Skinny Nerd Deadlifting 420 Pounds published first on https://dietariouspage.tumblr.com/

[joshuabradleyn]

5 Lessons learned from a skinny nerd deadlifting 420 pounds

I did it.

I proved somebody wrong on the internet!

I assume the internet will be mailing me a gold medal at any point this week, but until then, let me share the story.

I gave a TedX talk years ago, and I mentioned one of my long-term goals was being able to lift 400 pounds:

My first thought: “Ouch.”

My second thought: “Why am I reading YouTube comments!? No good can come of this.”

My third thought: “I’m gonna prove this person wrong.”

As a skinny nerd with chicken legs that couldn’t build muscle to save my life, this far-off goal suddenly seemed even further off.

Fast forward to last week: not only did I FINALLY reach my 10 year goal of deadlifting 400 pounds, I blew right past it. No straps, no belt. Just some chalk and “internet justice” rage:

For my final rep, I picked up 420 pounds at a bodyweight of 172 pounds. And it came up pretty quickly!

Now, I’ve internalized 5 big lessons on this journey to a deadlift I’m really proud of, especially considering all of those setbacks.

I wanted to share my lessons learned, and show you how you can apply this to your own life.

#1: Screw Your Genetics.

I have the genes of an elf, without the immortality.

If you’re familiar with body types, I’m an endomorph.

I’m naturally very thin and bony, have very thin wrists and ankles, and will forever have chicken legs.

This would be great, if I wanted to be a runner. Not great when you despise running, and you want to pick up heavy things.

Determined to overcome that fate, I began my journey to heavy lifting, only to get knocked back.

6 years ago, I discovered my genes also contain a super fun condition called “spondylolisthesis.”

Don’t bother trying to pronounce it, I still can’t.

It means my vertebrae don’t line up. Essentially, my L5 and S1 are less structurally aligned than a deep-game Jenga tower (Read how I used the “Iron Man Technique” when I got diagnosed).

Jenga: fun for game night, not for spinal metaphors.

When I first learned this, I initially assumed it meant my short lived career as a powerlifter was over, and threw myself one HELL of a pity party.

After that party ended, I got back on the horse.

(Not literally. I don’t have a horse.)

I started working on my deadlift form and core strength. I checked my ego, established a new “square one,” and essentially started over.

Thank god I refused to accept my fate.

Now, obviously I’m not a doctor – I don’t even have pants on right now – so you’re going to need to work with trained professionals if you have a serious medical condition you’re working to overcome.

In my instance, I decided that I didn’t want my genetics to decide my fate: that chicken legs and a crooked spine could be managed. While I might never reach my 10-year goal of a 400 pound deadlift, I’d get started and adjust along the way.

Yup, I know plenty of people can lift WAY more than I can. That’s cool! I’m competing against the ghost of my former self (like a Mario Kart time trial), and that’s all I can do.

I know I’m fighting an uphill battle when I focus on powerlifting when I’m much more likely to be good at running or another endurance activity. That sounds like my personal hell, so I’m gonna play THIS version of life on expert difficulty.

LESSON LEARNED: If you don’t like the game you’re playing, pick a different one! Who cares what your genetics are. You can’t do anything about them. All you can do is play the hand you’re dealt.

If you are a big-boned endomorph (you gain fat easily), and you want to be a marathon runner, GREAT! Start training for a 5k today. Who cares if you’re slow as molasses!

If you are built to run and want to strength train because that’s what brings you joy, go pick up heavy shit! Who cares if the person next to you can lift more? Are YOU lifting more than you did the day before?

We can only blame our parents for so much. Thanks for the crooked spine and acne, DAD.

(Kidding, my dad is cool as hell. He taught me to play poker when I was 5).

#2: Fail You Will. Learn, You Must.

After figuring out my spine sucked, I decided to hire my friend Anthony to coach me via email.

Because I couldn’t lift heavy to start, I had to reallllly focus on my form. It gave all of my muscles and tendons a chance to get caught up to speed.

So I spent two years making steady progress, which was awesome.

And then I went on vacation, where I severely strained my conjoint tendon. 

Lesson learned: never go on vacation again.

My injury was so brutal that I was convinced I had a hernia. I ended up getting an ultrasound on my crotch from two female ultrasound technicians, which was in no way at all awkward.

Kidding. It was aggressively awkward.

Anyways.

After taking multiple weeks off from lifting anything heavy, I started rehab, checked my ego (again), and had to rebuild my form (again), going back 250+ pounds and starting over again.

I felt like Sysphysis, rolling a rock up a hill only to have it roll all the way back down.

Or Charlie Brown trying to kick a football:

But I kept at it. I learned to improve my form. I changed my breathing technique for lifting. And I accepted that I had to go backward in order to eventually break through.

For reference, click through these images and videos below. The “Before” took place before my injury, while the “After” is just a month or two back:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Aug 15, 2018 at 1:32pm PDT

LESSON LEARNED: Always be learning, when you win or when you lose. Setbacks can be crippling, or they can be painful lessons learned that make you more powerful. I really didn’t have a choice.

You’re gonna get shin splints or plantar fasciitis when you start training for your 5k. Literally everybody does. Take it as a sign you need to fix your running form!

You’re gonna screw up on a lift. Take it as a chance to scale back and rework your form. Video tape your form and check with somebody

You’re gonna get sick and screw up and miss a lift or a hold or a thing. It happens. You can’t change the past (yet), so might as well learn from it and move forward. Rafiki gets me:

#3) Want to Reach a Far Off Goal? Use the Minecraft Strategy.

10 years ago, I had a goal I was racing towards: a 400 pound deadlift.

I’d get marginally closer and then have to back way off. This happened at least half a dozen times.

I believe the reason I finally achieved that goal is because I stopped focusing on rushing to get there! Instead, I just focused on the next workout, the next exercise, the next rep.

In other words: Don’t worry about the building you’re trying to construct. Instead, focus on putting the next brick in the right place, and then repeat. The building will take care of itself.

I call this the Minecraft Strategy.

As for my workouts, I train 4 days per week: Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday. One hour per workout. Each day has a big boring lift attached to it that doesn’t change much at all from week to week.

For the past four years, here’s the deadlift portion of a training day (after many warm-up sets):

Week 1: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 220 pounds.

Week 2: Sets of 3, 2, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 3: Sets of 3, 3, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 4: Sets of 3, 3, 3, for 220 pounds.

Week 5: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 225 pounds.

And repeat. Every week. Every month. For 5 years. Notice that each week I added just ONE rep. And once I hit 3 sets of 3, I’d go up by 5 pounds, and start back at 2, 2, 2.

That is boring as hell. And effective too. Every single week I’d be setting a personal best! I didn’t care about the far-off goal of a 400-lb deadlift, I instead put all of my focus into “Can I crush this next rep?”

This is also EXACTLY how one simply walks into Mordor: one step at a time.

Two weeks ago, my “slow cook” deadlifting workout had me doing 3 sets of 3 reps at 385 pounds.

Anthony told me: “Let’s go heavy next week. And I won’t accept anything less than 415 pounds.”

This was a goal I’d have forever, and Anthony had already set my sights 15 pounds heavier to calm my nerves on the psychological challenge of seeing that much weight on the bar.

So after picking up 405 for a warmup, I went for 420 pounds:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Nov 21, 2018 at 10:43am PST

No belt, no straps. Just some chalk and Walk the Moon’s “Portugal” on my headphones. Honestly, it was almost a letdown because it came up so quickly…but I was so damn proud to reach a powerful milestone, banish the monkey on my back, and actually feel strong.

Hence the quick fist pump to myself.

This week? It’s back to the boring stuff. Boring, consistent, progress where I just get epic results and feel really good about myself.

I’m okay with that. I jokingly talk about how I went from Steve Rogers to Captain America with this slow, small tactic.

LESSON LEARNED: Are you a shiny-object chasing “I need to be entertained and I change workouts every 3 weeks but I can never seem to get results” type of person?

Fall in love with the process and incremental progress, and you’re gonna go places kid.

Each week, just focus on being better than you did the week before. If you ONLY worry about this, you’ll look back at the end of the year and realize you’re a changed person.

Note: This means you need to show up each week, with few exceptions. Even when life is busy.

#4 – Track the Problem to Crack the Problem.

Fun fact: I currently have a folder in Evernote called “Kambsformation” (Anthony came up with it, and it just stuck).

In that folder I have 1 note for every workout or progress photo from the past 5 years.

I now have 1159 notes in that folder:

As my friend Nick says, “You gotta track the problem to track the problem.”

I have tracked every single workout I’ve done since 2013 in this folder. I have them all in the same place, so I can quickly scan back to any date and time and see where I was, how I trained, and so on.

I know every week exactly what I need to do to be better than the week before. Using the Minecraft Strategy here, it just means I need to focus on ONE single rep heavier.

In addition to tracking my workouts, I’ve become diligent about tracking my calories too. I am not Paleo, or Keto, or Mediterranean.

Instead, I employ a “mental model” diet, with specific rules I follow:

Skip breakfast. I cover this in our guide on Intermittent Fasting.

Eat big after a workout. Adjust the rest of my calories based on goals.

Protein with every meal. Usually chicken.

Veggies with every meal. Brussel sprouts or broccoli.

Adjust carbs and fat to fit macro profile for that day.

A powerbomb shake to hit calorie goals. Water, oats, frozen berries, frozen spinach, and whey protein (I use Optimum Nutrition Vanilla).

Over the past 2 months, I’ve actually leaned out, from 185 pounds down to 172 pounds. I did that by adjusting my caloric intake very simply:

2600 calories on training days

2200 calories on non training days.

For the first few weeks, I actually didn’t lose any weight despite “tracking my calories.” I still believed in thermodynamics, so I started weighing my portions (I like this one) and discovered a few key things.

Namely, that I was overeating without realizing it:

I was underestimating my oats portion by 20% when using a measuring cup instead of a scale

My chipotle lunch contained 1.5 servings of rice by weight, not 1.

As soon as I made those small adjustments, my weight started to drop consistently.

In addition to tracking my food, I take progress photos weekly, and weigh myself each morning.

I don’t freak out if the scale goes up or down. Instead I take a 7-day rolling average and make sure the TREND is in the right direction.

Think of this like the bumper lanes in a bowling alley: As long as the ball is moving towards the pins, that’s good enough.

LESSON LEARNED: We pay attention to the things we track. So track the right stuff! This applies not only to health and fitness, but learning, personal finance, etc. Keep a journal, or an Evernote folder, or a Google Doc. Write down what you did, and what you’re going to do.

It’s valuable as hell. And I don’t care what kind of diet you pick: whichever one leads you to sustainable calorie management in a way that doesn’t make you want to punch a hole in the wall.

If the scale isn’t going down for you, it doesn’t mean that you have a slow metabolism, or that you’re broken. It means you are eating too many calories to induce weight loss. Track your calories more closely.  Use a scale if you need to, until you learn what actual portion sizes are.

Are you taking progress photos? They can be a crucial for making sure you’re losing the right kind of weight!

Are you writing down your workouts or tracking them in an app? How else are you gonna know what you need to do this week to level up!?

#5) “It’s Dangerous to Go Alone. Bring a friend.”

I gotta give a shout out to my friend and coach, Anthony.

He’s been my online coach for the past 5 years and I truly consider him a valuable part of my success. He also has epic hair.

I’d say this is the best money I invest in myself each month – and I’m somebody that tells people how to exercise for a living!

When I’m traveling, or when I have busy weeks, my coach adjusts my schedule to make it work. When I am feeling good, well rested, and amped up, we crank things up. When I’m feeling overwhelmed he slows it down.

And most importantly, he doesn’t put up with my bullshit. You know what I mean – we all have excuses that we feed ourselves daily: too busy, I couldn’t because blah blah blah.

I know Anthony doesn’t want to hear this stuff, so I instead just DO the work! It’s pretty awesome to have somebody else that’s invested in my success, somebody that I can bounce ideas off of, somebody that I know is keeping me accountable, checking my form, etc.

And maybe most importantly, I have the peace of mind to know that I’m actually doing the right stuff, and doing it correctly. I feel confident saying I never would have lifted 420 pounds without my coach.

LESSON LEARNED: If you have the money to invest in yourself, hiring a coach who learns your story can be game changing. If you don’t, having a workout buddy in the trenches with you can be AMAZING too. An accountabilibuddy, if you will.

We’re proud that we have an online coaching program at NF, and we have an online community attached to our course, the NF Academy.

I also know lots of people who work with trainers in person and they can be worth every penny (sometimes!)

If you want to take your fitness more seriously, invest if you can. If you want to take running more seriously, join a running club.

You don’t have to go it alone on this journey, and oftentimes a coach or trusted friend can be an absolute game changer. It was for me.

I hope Anthony lets me keep him as a coach for the next 5 years too.

I proved a troll wrong, now what!?

So I mentioned that I proved somebody wrong on the internet. I mostly say this in jest.

The dude probably didn’t think twice about his comment, and hasn’t thought about it since.

Am I gonna try to right every wrong on the internet? Nope. People say really nasty things about me all the time, that just comes with the territory. It hurts like hell.

And then I get back to helping people and writing about Star Wars and sometimes wearing pants (but today is not that day).

So, although I jokingly say that “I owned that troll,” the reality is that it just. doesn’t. Matter.

I’m really proud of this accomplishment, and I hope my recap can help you crystallize the goals you have floating around your head.

These days, my goals are tighter, and more focused on the process:

Work out 4 days per week, no exception.

Hit my calorie goals 6 days out of 7 each week.

Be better than the last workout.

I’m working on

https://ift.tt/2FMVSlh

[neilmillerne]

5 Lessons learned from a skinny nerd deadlifting 420 pounds

I did it.

I proved somebody wrong on the internet!

I assume the internet will be mailing me a gold medal at any point this week, but until then, let me share the story.

I gave a TedX talk years ago, and I mentioned one of my long-term goals was being able to lift 400 pounds:

My first thought: “Ouch.”

My second thought: “Why am I reading YouTube comments!? No good can come of this.”

My third thought: “I’m gonna prove this person wrong.”

As a skinny nerd with chicken legs that couldn’t build muscle to save my life, this far-off goal suddenly seemed even further off.

Fast forward to last week: not only did I FINALLY reach my 10 year goal of deadlifting 400 pounds, I blew right past it. No straps, no belt. Just some chalk and “internet justice” rage:

For my final rep, I picked up 420 pounds at a bodyweight of 172 pounds. And it came up pretty quickly!

Now, I’ve internalized 5 big lessons on this journey to a deadlift I’m really proud of, especially considering all of those setbacks.

I wanted to share my lessons learned, and show you how you can apply this to your own life.

#1: Screw Your Genetics.

I have the genes of an elf, without the immortality.

If you’re familiar with body types, I’m an endomorph.

I’m naturally very thin and bony, have very thin wrists and ankles, and will forever have chicken legs.

This would be great, if I wanted to be a runner. Not great when you despise running, and you want to pick up heavy things.

Determined to overcome that fate, I began my journey to heavy lifting, only to get knocked back.

6 years ago, I discovered my genes also contain a super fun condition called “spondylolisthesis.”

Don’t bother trying to pronounce it, I still can’t.

It means my vertebrae don’t line up. Essentially, my L5 and S1 are less structurally aligned than a deep-game Jenga tower (Read how I used the “Iron Man Technique” when I got diagnosed).

Jenga: fun for game night, not for spinal metaphors.

When I first learned this, I initially assumed it meant my short lived career as a powerlifter was over, and threw myself one HELL of a pity party.

After that party ended, I got back on the horse.

(Not literally. I don’t have a horse.)

I started working on my deadlift form and core strength. I checked my ego, established a new “square one,” and essentially started over.

Thank god I refused to accept my fate.

Now, obviously I’m not a doctor – I don’t even have pants on right now – so you’re going to need to work with trained professionals if you have a serious medical condition you’re working to overcome.

In my instance, I decided that I didn’t want my genetics to decide my fate: that chicken legs and a crooked spine could be managed. While I might never reach my 10-year goal of a 400 pound deadlift, I’d get started and adjust along the way.

Yup, I know plenty of people can lift WAY more than I can. That’s cool! I’m competing against the ghost of my former self (like a Mario Kart time trial), and that’s all I can do.

I know I’m fighting an uphill battle when I focus on powerlifting when I’m much more likely to be good at running or another endurance activity. That sounds like my personal hell, so I’m gonna play THIS version of life on expert difficulty.

LESSON LEARNED: If you don’t like the game you’re playing, pick a different one! Who cares what your genetics are. You can’t do anything about them. All you can do is play the hand you’re dealt.

If you are a big-boned endomorph (you gain fat easily), and you want to be a marathon runner, GREAT! Start training for a 5k today. Who cares if you’re slow as molasses!

If you are built to run and want to strength train because that’s what brings you joy, go pick up heavy shit! Who cares if the person next to you can lift more? Are YOU lifting more than you did the day before?

We can only blame our parents for so much. Thanks for the crooked spine and acne, DAD.

(Kidding, my dad is cool as hell. He taught me to play poker when I was 5).

#2: Fail You Will. Learn, You Must.

After figuring out my spine sucked, I decided to hire my friend Anthony to coach me via email.

Because I couldn’t lift heavy to start, I had to reallllly focus on my form. It gave all of my muscles and tendons a chance to get caught up to speed.

So I spent two years making steady progress, which was awesome.

And then I went on vacation, where I severely strained my conjoint tendon. 

Lesson learned: never go on vacation again.

My injury was so brutal that I was convinced I had a hernia. I ended up getting an ultrasound on my crotch from two female ultrasound technicians, which was in no way at all awkward.

Kidding. It was aggressively awkward.

Anyways.

After taking multiple weeks off from lifting anything heavy, I started rehab, checked my ego (again), and had to rebuild my form (again), going back 250+ pounds and starting over again.

I felt like Sysphysis, rolling a rock up a hill only to have it roll all the way back down.

Or Charlie Brown trying to kick a football:

But I kept at it. I learned to improve my form. I changed my breathing technique for lifting. And I accepted that I had to go backward in order to eventually break through.

For reference, click through these images and videos below. The “Before” took place before my injury, while the “After” is just a month or two back:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Aug 15, 2018 at 1:32pm PDT

LESSON LEARNED: Always be learning, when you win or when you lose. Setbacks can be crippling, or they can be painful lessons learned that make you more powerful. I really didn’t have a choice.

You’re gonna get shin splints or plantar fasciitis when you start training for your 5k. Literally everybody does. Take it as a sign you need to fix your running form!

You’re gonna screw up on a lift. Take it as a chance to scale back and rework your form. Video tape your form and check with somebody

You’re gonna get sick and screw up and miss a lift or a hold or a thing. It happens. You can’t change the past (yet), so might as well learn from it and move forward. Rafiki gets me:

#3) Want to Reach a Far Off Goal? Use the Minecraft Strategy.

10 years ago, I had a goal I was racing towards: a 400 pound deadlift.

I’d get marginally closer and then have to back way off. This happened at least half a dozen times.

I believe the reason I finally achieved that goal is because I stopped focusing on rushing to get there! Instead, I just focused on the next workout, the next exercise, the next rep.

In other words: Don’t worry about the building you’re trying to construct. Instead, focus on putting the next brick in the right place, and then repeat. The building will take care of itself.

I call this the Minecraft Strategy.

As for my workouts, I train 4 days per week: Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday. One hour per workout. Each day has a big boring lift attached to it that doesn’t change much at all from week to week.

For the past four years, here’s the deadlift portion of a training day (after many warm-up sets):

Week 1: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 220 pounds.

Week 2: Sets of 3, 2, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 3: Sets of 3, 3, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 4: Sets of 3, 3, 3, for 220 pounds.

Week 5: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 225 pounds.

And repeat. Every week. Every month. For 5 years. Notice that each week I added just ONE rep. And once I hit 3 sets of 3, I’d go up by 5 pounds, and start back at 2, 2, 2.

That is boring as hell. And effective too. Every single week I’d be setting a personal best! I didn’t care about the far-off goal of a 400-lb deadlift, I instead put all of my focus into “Can I crush this next rep?”

This is also EXACTLY how one simply walks into Mordor: one step at a time.

Two weeks ago, my “slow cook” deadlifting workout had me doing 3 sets of 3 reps at 385 pounds.

Anthony told me: “Let’s go heavy next week. And I won’t accept anything less than 415 pounds.”

This was a goal I’d have forever, and Anthony had already set my sights 15 pounds heavier to calm my nerves on the psychological challenge of seeing that much weight on the bar.

So after picking up 405 for a warmup, I went for 420 pounds:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Nov 21, 2018 at 10:43am PST

No belt, no straps. Just some chalk and Walk the Moon’s “Portugal” on my headphones. Honestly, it was almost a letdown because it came up so quickly…but I was so damn proud to reach a powerful milestone, banish the monkey on my back, and actually feel strong.

Hence the quick fist pump to myself.

This week? It’s back to the boring stuff. Boring, consistent, progress where I just get epic results and feel really good about myself.

I’m okay with that. I jokingly talk about how I went from Steve Rogers to Captain America with this slow, small tactic.

LESSON LEARNED: Are you a shiny-object chasing “I need to be entertained and I change workouts every 3 weeks but I can never seem to get results” type of person?

Fall in love with the process and incremental progress, and you’re gonna go places kid.

Each week, just focus on being better than you did the week before. If you ONLY worry about this, you’ll look back at the end of the year and realize you’re a changed person.

Note: This means you need to show up each week, with few exceptions. Even when life is busy.

#4 – Track the Problem to Crack the Problem.

Fun fact: I currently have a folder in Evernote called “Kambsformation” (Anthony came up with it, and it just stuck).

In that folder I have 1 note for every workout or progress photo from the past 5 years.

I now have 1159 notes in that folder:

As my friend Nick says, “You gotta track the problem to track the problem.”

I have tracked every single workout I’ve done since 2013 in this folder. I have them all in the same place, so I can quickly scan back to any date and time and see where I was, how I trained, and so on.

I know every week exactly what I need to do to be better than the week before. Using the Minecraft Strategy here, it just means I need to focus on ONE single rep heavier.

In addition to tracking my workouts, I’ve become diligent about tracking my calories too. I am not Paleo, or Keto, or Mediterranean.

Instead, I employ a “mental model” diet, with specific rules I follow:

Skip breakfast. I cover this in our guide on Intermittent Fasting.

Eat big after a workout. Adjust the rest of my calories based on goals.

Protein with every meal. Usually chicken.

Veggies with every meal. Brussel sprouts or broccoli.

Adjust carbs and fat to fit macro profile for that day.

A powerbomb shake to hit calorie goals. Water, oats, frozen berries, frozen spinach, and whey protein (I use Optimum Nutrition Vanilla).

Over the past 2 months, I’ve actually leaned out, from 185 pounds down to 172 pounds. I did that by adjusting my caloric intake very simply:

2600 calories on training days

2200 calories on non training days.

For the first few weeks, I actually didn’t lose any weight despite “tracking my calories.” I still believed in thermodynamics, so I started weighing my portions (I like this one) and discovered a few key things.

Namely, that I was overeating without realizing it:

I was underestimating my oats portion by 20% when using a measuring cup instead of a scale

My chipotle lunch contained 1.5 servings of rice by weight, not 1.

As soon as I made those small adjustments, my weight started to drop consistently.

In addition to tracking my food, I take progress photos weekly, and weigh myself each morning.

I don’t freak out if the scale goes up or down. Instead I take a 7-day rolling average and make sure the TREND is in the right direction.

Think of this like the bumper lanes in a bowling alley: As long as the ball is moving towards the pins, that’s good enough.

LESSON LEARNED: We pay attention to the things we track. So track the right stuff! This applies not only to health and fitness, but learning, personal finance, etc. Keep a journal, or an Evernote folder, or a Google Doc. Write down what you did, and what you’re going to do.

It’s valuable as hell. And I don’t care what kind of diet you pick: whichever one leads you to sustainable calorie management in a way that doesn’t make you want to punch a hole in the wall.

If the scale isn’t going down for you, it doesn’t mean that you have a slow metabolism, or that you’re broken. It means you are eating too many calories to induce weight loss. Track your calories more closely.  Use a scale if you need to, until you learn what actual portion sizes are.

Are you taking progress photos? They can be a crucial for making sure you’re losing the right kind of weight!

Are you writing down your workouts or tracking them in an app? How else are you gonna know what you need to do this week to level up!?

#5) “It’s Dangerous to Go Alone. Bring a friend.”

I gotta give a shout out to my friend and coach, Anthony.

He’s been my online coach for the past 5 years and I truly consider him a valuable part of my success. He also has epic hair.

I’d say this is the best money I invest in myself each month – and I’m somebody that tells people how to exercise for a living!

When I’m traveling, or when I have busy weeks, my coach adjusts my schedule to make it work. When I am feeling good, well rested, and amped up, we crank things up. When I’m feeling overwhelmed he slows it down.

And most importantly, he doesn’t put up with my bullshit. You know what I mean – we all have excuses that we feed ourselves daily: too busy, I couldn’t because blah blah blah.

I know Anthony doesn’t want to hear this stuff, so I instead just DO the work! It’s pretty awesome to have somebody else that’s invested in my success, somebody that I can bounce ideas off of, somebody that I know is keeping me accountable, checking my form, etc.

And maybe most importantly, I have the peace of mind to know that I’m actually doing the right stuff, and doing it correctly. I feel confident saying I never would have lifted 420 pounds without my coach.

LESSON LEARNED: If you have the money to invest in yourself, hiring a coach who learns your story can be game changing. If you don’t, having a workout buddy in the trenches with you can be AMAZING too. An accountabilibuddy, if you will.

We’re proud that we have an online coaching program at NF, and we have an online community attached to our course, the NF Academy.

I also know lots of people who work with trainers in person and they can be worth every penny (sometimes!)

If you want to take your fitness more seriously, invest if you can. If you want to take running more seriously, join a running club.

You don’t have to go it alone on this journey, and oftentimes a coach or trusted friend can be an absolute game changer. It was for me.

I hope Anthony lets me keep him as a coach for the next 5 years too.

I proved a troll wrong, now what!?

So I mentioned that I proved somebody wrong on the internet. I mostly say this in jest.

The dude probably didn’t think twice about his comment, and hasn’t thought about it since.

Am I gonna try to right every wrong on the internet? Nope. People say really nasty things about me all the time, that just comes with the territory. It hurts like hell.

And then I get back to helping people and writing about Star Wars and sometimes wearing pants (but today is not that day).

So, although I jokingly say that “I owned that troll,” the reality is that it just. doesn’t. Matter.

I’m really proud of this accomplishment, and I hope my recap can help you crystallize the goals you have floating around your head.

These days, my goals are tighter, and more focused on the process:

Work out 4 days per week, no exception.

Hit my calorie goals 6 days out of 7 each week.

Be better than the last workout.

I’m working on

https://ift.tt/2FMVSlh

[almajonesnjna]

5 Lessons learned from a skinny nerd deadlifting 420 pounds

I did it.

I proved somebody wrong on the internet!

I assume the internet will be mailing me a gold medal at any point this week, but until then, let me share the story.

I gave a TedX talk years ago, and I mentioned one of my long-term goals was being able to lift 400 pounds:

My first thought: “Ouch.”

My second thought: “Why am I reading YouTube comments!? No good can come of this.”

My third thought: “I’m gonna prove this person wrong.”

As a skinny nerd with chicken legs that couldn’t build muscle to save my life, this far-off goal suddenly seemed even further off.

Fast forward to last week: not only did I FINALLY reach my 10 year goal of deadlifting 400 pounds, I blew right past it. No straps, no belt. Just some chalk and “internet justice” rage:

For my final rep, I picked up 420 pounds at a bodyweight of 172 pounds. And it came up pretty quickly!

Now, I’ve internalized 5 big lessons on this journey to a deadlift I’m really proud of, especially considering all of those setbacks.

I wanted to share my lessons learned, and show you how you can apply this to your own life.

#1: Screw Your Genetics.

I have the genes of an elf, without the immortality.

If you’re familiar with body types, I’m an endomorph.

I’m naturally very thin and bony, have very thin wrists and ankles, and will forever have chicken legs.

This would be great, if I wanted to be a runner. Not great when you despise running, and you want to pick up heavy things.

Determined to overcome that fate, I began my journey to heavy lifting, only to get knocked back.

6 years ago, I discovered my genes also contain a super fun condition called “spondylolisthesis.”

Don’t bother trying to pronounce it, I still can’t.

It means my vertebrae don’t line up. Essentially, my L5 and S1 are less structurally aligned than a deep-game Jenga tower (Read how I used the “Iron Man Technique” when I got diagnosed).

Jenga: fun for game night, not for spinal metaphors.

When I first learned this, I initially assumed it meant my short lived career as a powerlifter was over, and threw myself one HELL of a pity party.

After that party ended, I got back on the horse.

(Not literally. I don’t have a horse.)

I started working on my deadlift form and core strength. I checked my ego, established a new “square one,” and essentially started over.

Thank god I refused to accept my fate.

Now, obviously I’m not a doctor – I don’t even have pants on right now – so you’re going to need to work with trained professionals if you have a serious medical condition you’re working to overcome.

In my instance, I decided that I didn’t want my genetics to decide my fate: that chicken legs and a crooked spine could be managed. While I might never reach my 10-year goal of a 400 pound deadlift, I’d get started and adjust along the way.

Yup, I know plenty of people can lift WAY more than I can. That’s cool! I’m competing against the ghost of my former self (like a Mario Kart time trial), and that’s all I can do.

I know I’m fighting an uphill battle when I focus on powerlifting when I’m much more likely to be good at running or another endurance activity. That sounds like my personal hell, so I’m gonna play THIS version of life on expert difficulty.

LESSON LEARNED: If you don’t like the game you’re playing, pick a different one! Who cares what your genetics are. You can’t do anything about them. All you can do is play the hand you’re dealt.

If you are a big-boned endomorph (you gain fat easily), and you want to be a marathon runner, GREAT! Start training for a 5k today. Who cares if you’re slow as molasses!

If you are built to run and want to strength train because that’s what brings you joy, go pick up heavy shit! Who cares if the person next to you can lift more? Are YOU lifting more than you did the day before?

We can only blame our parents for so much. Thanks for the crooked spine and acne, DAD.

(Kidding, my dad is cool as hell. He taught me to play poker when I was 5).

#2: Fail You Will. Learn, You Must.

After figuring out my spine sucked, I decided to hire my friend Anthony to coach me via email.

Because I couldn’t lift heavy to start, I had to reallllly focus on my form. It gave all of my muscles and tendons a chance to get caught up to speed.

So I spent two years making steady progress, which was awesome.

And then I went on vacation, where I severely strained my conjoint tendon. 

Lesson learned: never go on vacation again.

My injury was so brutal that I was convinced I had a hernia. I ended up getting an ultrasound on my crotch from two female ultrasound technicians, which was in no way at all awkward.

Kidding. It was aggressively awkward.

Anyways.

After taking multiple weeks off from lifting anything heavy, I started rehab, checked my ego (again), and had to rebuild my form (again), going back 250+ pounds and starting over again.

I felt like Sysphysis, rolling a rock up a hill only to have it roll all the way back down.

Or Charlie Brown trying to kick a football:

But I kept at it. I learned to improve my form. I changed my breathing technique for lifting. And I accepted that I had to go backward in order to eventually break through.

For reference, click through these images and videos below. The “Before” took place before my injury, while the “After” is just a month or two back:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Aug 15, 2018 at 1:32pm PDT

LESSON LEARNED: Always be learning, when you win or when you lose. Setbacks can be crippling, or they can be painful lessons learned that make you more powerful. I really didn’t have a choice.

You’re gonna get shin splints or plantar fasciitis when you start training for your 5k. Literally everybody does. Take it as a sign you need to fix your running form!

You’re gonna screw up on a lift. Take it as a chance to scale back and rework your form. Video tape your form and check with somebody

You’re gonna get sick and screw up and miss a lift or a hold or a thing. It happens. You can’t change the past (yet), so might as well learn from it and move forward. Rafiki gets me:

#3) Want to Reach a Far Off Goal? Use the Minecraft Strategy.

10 years ago, I had a goal I was racing towards: a 400 pound deadlift.

I’d get marginally closer and then have to back way off. This happened at least half a dozen times.

I believe the reason I finally achieved that goal is because I stopped focusing on rushing to get there! Instead, I just focused on the next workout, the next exercise, the next rep.

In other words: Don’t worry about the building you’re trying to construct. Instead, focus on putting the next brick in the right place, and then repeat. The building will take care of itself.

I call this the Minecraft Strategy.

As for my workouts, I train 4 days per week: Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday. One hour per workout. Each day has a big boring lift attached to it that doesn’t change much at all from week to week.

For the past four years, here’s the deadlift portion of a training day (after many warm-up sets):

Week 1: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 220 pounds.

Week 2: Sets of 3, 2, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 3: Sets of 3, 3, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 4: Sets of 3, 3, 3, for 220 pounds.

Week 5: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 225 pounds.

And repeat. Every week. Every month. For 5 years. Notice that each week I added just ONE rep. And once I hit 3 sets of 3, I’d go up by 5 pounds, and start back at 2, 2, 2.

That is boring as hell. And effective too. Every single week I’d be setting a personal best! I didn’t care about the far-off goal of a 400-lb deadlift, I instead put all of my focus into “Can I crush this next rep?”

This is also EXACTLY how one simply walks into Mordor: one step at a time.

Two weeks ago, my “slow cook” deadlifting workout had me doing 3 sets of 3 reps at 385 pounds.

Anthony told me: “Let’s go heavy next week. And I won’t accept anything less than 415 pounds.”

This was a goal I’d have forever, and Anthony had already set my sights 15 pounds heavier to calm my nerves on the psychological challenge of seeing that much weight on the bar.

So after picking up 405 for a warmup, I went for 420 pounds:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Nov 21, 2018 at 10:43am PST

No belt, no straps. Just some chalk and Walk the Moon’s “Portugal” on my headphones. Honestly, it was almost a letdown because it came up so quickly…but I was so damn proud to reach a powerful milestone, banish the monkey on my back, and actually feel strong.

Hence the quick fist pump to myself.

This week? It’s back to the boring stuff. Boring, consistent, progress where I just get epic results and feel really good about myself.

I’m okay with that. I jokingly talk about how I went from Steve Rogers to Captain America with this slow, small tactic.

LESSON LEARNED: Are you a shiny-object chasing “I need to be entertained and I change workouts every 3 weeks but I can never seem to get results” type of person?

Fall in love with the process and incremental progress, and you’re gonna go places kid.

Each week, just focus on being better than you did the week before. If you ONLY worry about this, you’ll look back at the end of the year and realize you’re a changed person.

Note: This means you need to show up each week, with few exceptions. Even when life is busy.

#4 – Track the Problem to Crack the Problem.

Fun fact: I currently have a folder in Evernote called “Kambsformation” (Anthony came up with it, and it just stuck).

In that folder I have 1 note for every workout or progress photo from the past 5 years.

I now have 1159 notes in that folder:

As my friend Nick says, “You gotta track the problem to track the problem.”

I have tracked every single workout I’ve done since 2013 in this folder. I have them all in the same place, so I can quickly scan back to any date and time and see where I was, how I trained, and so on.

I know every week exactly what I need to do to be better than the week before. Using the Minecraft Strategy here, it just means I need to focus on ONE single rep heavier.

In addition to tracking my workouts, I’ve become diligent about tracking my calories too. I am not Paleo, or Keto, or Mediterranean.

Instead, I employ a “mental model” diet, with specific rules I follow:

Skip breakfast. I cover this in our guide on Intermittent Fasting.

Eat big after a workout. Adjust the rest of my calories based on goals.

Protein with every meal. Usually chicken.

Veggies with every meal. Brussel sprouts or broccoli.

Adjust carbs and fat to fit macro profile for that day.

A powerbomb shake to hit calorie goals. Water, oats, frozen berries, frozen spinach, and whey protein (I use Optimum Nutrition Vanilla).

Over the past 2 months, I’ve actually leaned out, from 185 pounds down to 172 pounds. I did that by adjusting my caloric intake very simply:

2600 calories on training days

2200 calories on non training days.

For the first few weeks, I actually didn’t lose any weight despite “tracking my calories.” I still believed in thermodynamics, so I started weighing my portions (I like this one) and discovered a few key things.

Namely, that I was overeating without realizing it:

I was underestimating my oats portion by 20% when using a measuring cup instead of a scale

My chipotle lunch contained 1.5 servings of rice by weight, not 1.

As soon as I made those small adjustments, my weight started to drop consistently.

In addition to tracking my food, I take progress photos weekly, and weigh myself each morning.

I don’t freak out if the scale goes up or down. Instead I take a 7-day rolling average and make sure the TREND is in the right direction.

Think of this like the bumper lanes in a bowling alley: As long as the ball is moving towards the pins, that’s good enough.

LESSON LEARNED: We pay attention to the things we track. So track the right stuff! This applies not only to health and fitness, but learning, personal finance, etc. Keep a journal, or an Evernote folder, or a Google Doc. Write down what you did, and what you’re going to do.

It’s valuable as hell. And I don’t care what kind of diet you pick: whichever one leads you to sustainable calorie management in a way that doesn’t make you want to punch a hole in the wall.

If the scale isn’t going down for you, it doesn’t mean that you have a slow metabolism, or that you’re broken. It means you are eating too many calories to induce weight loss. Track your calories more closely.  Use a scale if you need to, until you learn what actual portion sizes are.

Are you taking progress photos? They can be a crucial for making sure you’re losing the right kind of weight!

Are you writing down your workouts or tracking them in an app? How else are you gonna know what you need to do this week to level up!?

#5) “It’s Dangerous to Go Alone. Bring a friend.”

I gotta give a shout out to my friend and coach, Anthony.

He’s been my online coach for the past 5 years and I truly consider him a valuable part of my success. He also has epic hair.

I’d say this is the best money I invest in myself each month – and I’m somebody that tells people how to exercise for a living!

When I’m traveling, or when I have busy weeks, my coach adjusts my schedule to make it work. When I am feeling good, well rested, and amped up, we crank things up. When I’m feeling overwhelmed he slows it down.

And most importantly, he doesn’t put up with my bullshit. You know what I mean – we all have excuses that we feed ourselves daily: too busy, I couldn’t because blah blah blah.

I know Anthony doesn’t want to hear this stuff, so I instead just DO the work! It’s pretty awesome to have somebody else that’s invested in my success, somebody that I can bounce ideas off of, somebody that I know is keeping me accountable, checking my form, etc.

And maybe most importantly, I have the peace of mind to know that I’m actually doing the right stuff, and doing it correctly. I feel confident saying I never would have lifted 420 pounds without my coach.

LESSON LEARNED: If you have the money to invest in yourself, hiring a coach who learns your story can be game changing. If you don’t, having a workout buddy in the trenches with you can be AMAZING too. An accountabilibuddy, if you will.

We’re proud that we have an online coaching program at NF, and we have an online community attached to our course, the NF Academy.

I also know lots of people who work with trainers in person and they can be worth every penny (sometimes!)

If you want to take your fitness more seriously, invest if you can. If you want to take running more seriously, join a running club.

You don’t have to go it alone on this journey, and oftentimes a coach or trusted friend can be an absolute game changer. It was for me.

I hope Anthony lets me keep him as a coach for the next 5 years too.

I proved a troll wrong, now what!?

So I mentioned that I proved somebody wrong on the internet. I mostly say this in jest.

The dude probably didn’t think twice about his comment, and hasn’t thought about it since.

Am I gonna try to right every wrong on the internet? Nope. People say really nasty things about me all the time, that just comes with the territory. It hurts like hell.

And then I get back to helping people and writing about Star Wars and sometimes wearing pants (but today is not that day).

So, although I jokingly say that “I owned that troll,” the reality is that it just. doesn’t. Matter.

I’m really proud of this accomplishment, and I hope my recap can help you crystallize the goals you have floating around your head.

These days, my goals are tighter, and more focused on the process:

Work out 4 days per week, no exception.

Hit my calorie goals 6 days out of 7 each week.

Be better than the last workout.

I’m working on

https://ift.tt/2FMVSlh

[ruthellisneda]

5 Lessons learned from a skinny nerd deadlifting 420 pounds

I did it.

I proved somebody wrong on the internet!

I assume the internet will be mailing me a gold medal at any point this week, but until then, let me share the story.

I gave a TedX talk years ago, and I mentioned one of my long-term goals was being able to lift 400 pounds:

My first thought: “Ouch.”

My second thought: “Why am I reading YouTube comments!? No good can come of this.”

My third thought: “I’m gonna prove this person wrong.”

As a skinny nerd with chicken legs that couldn’t build muscle to save my life, this far-off goal suddenly seemed even further off.

Fast forward to last week: not only did I FINALLY reach my 10 year goal of deadlifting 400 pounds, I blew right past it. No straps, no belt. Just some chalk and “internet justice” rage:

For my final rep, I picked up 420 pounds at a bodyweight of 172 pounds. And it came up pretty quickly!

Now, I’ve internalized 5 big lessons on this journey to a deadlift I’m really proud of, especially considering all of those setbacks.

I wanted to share my lessons learned, and show you how you can apply this to your own life.

#1: Screw Your Genetics.

I have the genes of an elf, without the immortality.

If you’re familiar with body types, I’m an endomorph.

I’m naturally very thin and bony, have very thin wrists and ankles, and will forever have chicken legs.

This would be great, if I wanted to be a runner. Not great when you despise running, and you want to pick up heavy things.

Determined to overcome that fate, I began my journey to heavy lifting, only to get knocked back.

6 years ago, I discovered my genes also contain a super fun condition called “spondylolisthesis.”

Don’t bother trying to pronounce it, I still can’t.

It means my vertebrae don’t line up. Essentially, my L5 and S1 are less structurally aligned than a deep-game Jenga tower (Read how I used the “Iron Man Technique” when I got diagnosed).

Jenga: fun for game night, not for spinal metaphors.

When I first learned this, I initially assumed it meant my short lived career as a powerlifter was over, and threw myself one HELL of a pity party.

After that party ended, I got back on the horse.

(Not literally. I don’t have a horse.)

I started working on my deadlift form and core strength. I checked my ego, established a new “square one,” and essentially started over.

Thank god I refused to accept my fate.

Now, obviously I’m not a doctor – I don’t even have pants on right now – so you’re going to need to work with trained professionals if you have a serious medical condition you’re working to overcome.

In my instance, I decided that I didn’t want my genetics to decide my fate: that chicken legs and a crooked spine could be managed. While I might never reach my 10-year goal of a 400 pound deadlift, I’d get started and adjust along the way.

Yup, I know plenty of people can lift WAY more than I can. That’s cool! I’m competing against the ghost of my former self (like a Mario Kart time trial), and that’s all I can do.

I know I’m fighting an uphill battle when I focus on powerlifting when I’m much more likely to be good at running or another endurance activity. That sounds like my personal hell, so I’m gonna play THIS version of life on expert difficulty.

LESSON LEARNED: If you don’t like the game you’re playing, pick a different one! Who cares what your genetics are. You can’t do anything about them. All you can do is play the hand you’re dealt.

If you are a big-boned endomorph (you gain fat easily), and you want to be a marathon runner, GREAT! Start training for a 5k today. Who cares if you’re slow as molasses!

If you are built to run and want to strength train because that’s what brings you joy, go pick up heavy shit! Who cares if the person next to you can lift more? Are YOU lifting more than you did the day before?

We can only blame our parents for so much. Thanks for the crooked spine and acne, DAD.

(Kidding, my dad is cool as hell. He taught me to play poker when I was 5).

#2: Fail You Will. Learn, You Must.

After figuring out my spine sucked, I decided to hire my friend Anthony to coach me via email.

Because I couldn’t lift heavy to start, I had to reallllly focus on my form. It gave all of my muscles and tendons a chance to get caught up to speed.

So I spent two years making steady progress, which was awesome.

And then I went on vacation, where I severely strained my conjoint tendon. 

Lesson learned: never go on vacation again.

My injury was so brutal that I was convinced I had a hernia. I ended up getting an ultrasound on my crotch from two female ultrasound technicians, which was in no way at all awkward.

Kidding. It was aggressively awkward.

Anyways.

After taking multiple weeks off from lifting anything heavy, I started rehab, checked my ego (again), and had to rebuild my form (again), going back 250+ pounds and starting over again.

I felt like Sysphysis, rolling a rock up a hill only to have it roll all the way back down.

Or Charlie Brown trying to kick a football:

But I kept at it. I learned to improve my form. I changed my breathing technique for lifting. And I accepted that I had to go backward in order to eventually break through.

For reference, click through these images and videos below. The “Before” took place before my injury, while the “After” is just a month or two back:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Aug 15, 2018 at 1:32pm PDT

LESSON LEARNED: Always be learning, when you win or when you lose. Setbacks can be crippling, or they can be painful lessons learned that make you more powerful. I really didn’t have a choice.

You’re gonna get shin splints or plantar fasciitis when you start training for your 5k. Literally everybody does. Take it as a sign you need to fix your running form!

You’re gonna screw up on a lift. Take it as a chance to scale back and rework your form. Video tape your form and check with somebody

You’re gonna get sick and screw up and miss a lift or a hold or a thing. It happens. You can’t change the past (yet), so might as well learn from it and move forward. Rafiki gets me:

#3) Want to Reach a Far Off Goal? Use the Minecraft Strategy.

10 years ago, I had a goal I was racing towards: a 400 pound deadlift.

I’d get marginally closer and then have to back way off. This happened at least half a dozen times.

I believe the reason I finally achieved that goal is because I stopped focusing on rushing to get there! Instead, I just focused on the next workout, the next exercise, the next rep.

In other words: Don’t worry about the building you’re trying to construct. Instead, focus on putting the next brick in the right place, and then repeat. The building will take care of itself.

I call this the Minecraft Strategy.

As for my workouts, I train 4 days per week: Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday. One hour per workout. Each day has a big boring lift attached to it that doesn’t change much at all from week to week.

For the past four years, here’s the deadlift portion of a training day (after many warm-up sets):

Week 1: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 220 pounds.

Week 2: Sets of 3, 2, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 3: Sets of 3, 3, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 4: Sets of 3, 3, 3, for 220 pounds.

Week 5: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 225 pounds.

And repeat. Every week. Every month. For 5 years. Notice that each week I added just ONE rep. And once I hit 3 sets of 3, I’d go up by 5 pounds, and start back at 2, 2, 2.

That is boring as hell. And effective too. Every single week I’d be setting a personal best! I didn’t care about the far-off goal of a 400-lb deadlift, I instead put all of my focus into “Can I crush this next rep?”

This is also EXACTLY how one simply walks into Mordor: one step at a time.

Two weeks ago, my “slow cook” deadlifting workout had me doing 3 sets of 3 reps at 385 pounds.

Anthony told me: “Let’s go heavy next week. And I won’t accept anything less than 415 pounds.”

This was a goal I’d have forever, and Anthony had already set my sights 15 pounds heavier to calm my nerves on the psychological challenge of seeing that much weight on the bar.

So after picking up 405 for a warmup, I went for 420 pounds:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Nov 21, 2018 at 10:43am PST

No belt, no straps. Just some chalk and Walk the Moon’s “Portugal” on my headphones. Honestly, it was almost a letdown because it came up so quickly…but I was so damn proud to reach a powerful milestone, banish the monkey on my back, and actually feel strong.

Hence the quick fist pump to myself.

This week? It’s back to the boring stuff. Boring, consistent, progress where I just get epic results and feel really good about myself.

I’m okay with that. I jokingly talk about how I went from Steve Rogers to Captain America with this slow, small tactic.

LESSON LEARNED: Are you a shiny-object chasing “I need to be entertained and I change workouts every 3 weeks but I can never seem to get results” type of person?

Fall in love with the process and incremental progress, and you’re gonna go places kid.

Each week, just focus on being better than you did the week before. If you ONLY worry about this, you’ll look back at the end of the year and realize you’re a changed person.

Note: This means you need to show up each week, with few exceptions. Even when life is busy.

#4 – Track the Problem to Crack the Problem.

Fun fact: I currently have a folder in Evernote called “Kambsformation” (Anthony came up with it, and it just stuck).

In that folder I have 1 note for every workout or progress photo from the past 5 years.

I now have 1159 notes in that folder:

As my friend Nick says, “You gotta track the problem to track the problem.”

I have tracked every single workout I’ve done since 2013 in this folder. I have them all in the same place, so I can quickly scan back to any date and time and see where I was, how I trained, and so on.

I know every week exactly what I need to do to be better than the week before. Using the Minecraft Strategy here, it just means I need to focus on ONE single rep heavier.

In addition to tracking my workouts, I’ve become diligent about tracking my calories too. I am not Paleo, or Keto, or Mediterranean.

Instead, I employ a “mental model” diet, with specific rules I follow:

Skip breakfast. I cover this in our guide on Intermittent Fasting.

Eat big after a workout. Adjust the rest of my calories based on goals.

Protein with every meal. Usually chicken.

Veggies with every meal. Brussel sprouts or broccoli.

Adjust carbs and fat to fit macro profile for that day.

A powerbomb shake to hit calorie goals. Water, oats, frozen berries, frozen spinach, and whey protein (I use Optimum Nutrition Vanilla).

Over the past 2 months, I’ve actually leaned out, from 185 pounds down to 172 pounds. I did that by adjusting my caloric intake very simply:

2600 calories on training days

2200 calories on non training days.

For the first few weeks, I actually didn’t lose any weight despite “tracking my calories.” I still believed in thermodynamics, so I started weighing my portions (I like this one) and discovered a few key things.

Namely, that I was overeating without realizing it:

I was underestimating my oats portion by 20% when using a measuring cup instead of a scale

My chipotle lunch contained 1.5 servings of rice by weight, not 1.

As soon as I made those small adjustments, my weight started to drop consistently.

In addition to tracking my food, I take progress photos weekly, and weigh myself each morning.

I don’t freak out if the scale goes up or down. Instead I take a 7-day rolling average and make sure the TREND is in the right direction.

Think of this like the bumper lanes in a bowling alley: As long as the ball is moving towards the pins, that’s good enough.

LESSON LEARNED: We pay attention to the things we track. So track the right stuff! This applies not only to health and fitness, but learning, personal finance, etc. Keep a journal, or an Evernote folder, or a Google Doc. Write down what you did, and what you’re going to do.

It’s valuable as hell. And I don’t care what kind of diet you pick: whichever one leads you to sustainable calorie management in a way that doesn’t make you want to punch a hole in the wall.

If the scale isn’t going down for you, it doesn’t mean that you have a slow metabolism, or that you’re broken. It means you are eating too many calories to induce weight loss. Track your calories more closely.  Use a scale if you need to, until you learn what actual portion sizes are.

Are you taking progress photos? They can be a crucial for making sure you’re losing the right kind of weight!

Are you writing down your workouts or tracking them in an app? How else are you gonna know what you need to do this week to level up!?

#5) “It’s Dangerous to Go Alone. Bring a friend.”

I gotta give a shout out to my friend and coach, Anthony.

He’s been my online coach for the past 5 years and I truly consider him a valuable part of my success. He also has epic hair.

I’d say this is the best money I invest in myself each month – and I’m somebody that tells people how to exercise for a living!

When I’m traveling, or when I have busy weeks, my coach adjusts my schedule to make it work. When I am feeling good, well rested, and amped up, we crank things up. When I’m feeling overwhelmed he slows it down.

And most importantly, he doesn’t put up with my bullshit. You know what I mean – we all have excuses that we feed ourselves daily: too busy, I couldn’t because blah blah blah.

I know Anthony doesn’t want to hear this stuff, so I instead just DO the work! It’s pretty awesome to have somebody else that’s invested in my success, somebody that I can bounce ideas off of, somebody that I know is keeping me accountable, checking my form, etc.

And maybe most importantly, I have the peace of mind to know that I’m actually doing the right stuff, and doing it correctly. I feel confident saying I never would have lifted 420 pounds without my coach.

LESSON LEARNED: If you have the money to invest in yourself, hiring a coach who learns your story can be game changing. If you don’t, having a workout buddy in the trenches with you can be AMAZING too. An accountabilibuddy, if you will.

We’re proud that we have an online coaching program at NF, and we have an online community attached to our course, the NF Academy.

I also know lots of people who work with trainers in person and they can be worth every penny (sometimes!)

If you want to take your fitness more seriously, invest if you can. If you want to take running more seriously, join a running club.

You don’t have to go it alone on this journey, and oftentimes a coach or trusted friend can be an absolute game changer. It was for me.

I hope Anthony lets me keep him as a coach for the next 5 years too.

I proved a troll wrong, now what!?

So I mentioned that I proved somebody wrong on the internet. I mostly say this in jest.

The dude probably didn’t think twice about his comment, and hasn’t thought about it since.

Am I gonna try to right every wrong on the internet? Nope. People say really nasty things about me all the time, that just comes with the territory. It hurts like hell.

And then I get back to helping people and writing about Star Wars and sometimes wearing pants (but today is not that day).

So, although I jokingly say that “I owned that troll,” the reality is that it just. doesn’t. Matter.

I’m really proud of this accomplishment, and I hope my recap can help you crystallize the goals you have floating around your head.

These days, my goals are tighter, and more focused on the process:

Work out 4 days per week, no exception.

Hit my calorie goals 6 days out of 7 each week.

Be better than the last workout.

I’m working on

https://ift.tt/2FMVSlh

[fitnetpro]

5 Lessons learned from a skinny nerd deadlifting 420 pounds

I did it.

I proved somebody wrong on the internet!

I assume the internet will be mailing me a gold medal at any point this week, but until then, let me share the story.

I gave a TedX talk years ago, and I mentioned one of my long-term goals was being able to lift 400 pounds:

My first thought: “Ouch.”

My second thought: “Why am I reading YouTube comments!? No good can come of this.”

My third thought: “I’m gonna prove this person wrong.”

As a skinny nerd with chicken legs that couldn’t build muscle to save my life, this far-off goal suddenly seemed even further off.

Fast forward to last week: not only did I FINALLY reach my 10 year goal of deadlifting 400 pounds, I blew right past it. No straps, no belt. Just some chalk and “internet justice” rage:

For my final rep, I picked up 420 pounds at a bodyweight of 172 pounds. And it came up pretty quickly!

Now, I’ve internalized 5 big lessons on this journey to a deadlift I’m really proud of, especially considering all of those setbacks.

I wanted to share my lessons learned, and show you how you can apply this to your own life.

#1: Screw Your Genetics.

I have the genes of an elf, without the immortality.

If you’re familiar with body types, I’m an endomorph.

I’m naturally very thin and bony, have very thin wrists and ankles, and will forever have chicken legs.

This would be great, if I wanted to be a runner. Not great when you despise running, and you want to pick up heavy things.

Determined to overcome that fate, I began my journey to heavy lifting, only to get knocked back.

6 years ago, I discovered my genes also contain a super fun condition called “spondylolisthesis.”

Don’t bother trying to pronounce it, I still can’t.

It means my vertebrae don’t line up. Essentially, my L5 and S1 are less structurally aligned than a deep-game Jenga tower (Read how I used the “Iron Man Technique” when I got diagnosed).

Jenga: fun for game night, not for spinal metaphors.

When I first learned this, I initially assumed it meant my short lived career as a powerlifter was over, and threw myself one HELL of a pity party.

After that party ended, I got back on the horse.

(Not literally. I don’t have a horse.)

I started working on my deadlift form and core strength. I checked my ego, established a new “square one,” and essentially started over.

Thank god I refused to accept my fate.

Now, obviously I’m not a doctor – I don’t even have pants on right now – so you’re going to need to work with trained professionals if you have a serious medical condition you’re working to overcome.

In my instance, I decided that I didn’t want my genetics to decide my fate: that chicken legs and a crooked spine could be managed. While I might never reach my 10-year goal of a 400 pound deadlift, I’d get started and adjust along the way.

Yup, I know plenty of people can lift WAY more than I can. That’s cool! I’m competing against the ghost of my former self (like a Mario Kart time trial), and that’s all I can do.

I know I’m fighting an uphill battle when I focus on powerlifting when I’m much more likely to be good at running or another endurance activity. That sounds like my personal hell, so I’m gonna play THIS version of life on expert difficulty.

LESSON LEARNED: If you don’t like the game you’re playing, pick a different one! Who cares what your genetics are. You can’t do anything about them. All you can do is play the hand you’re dealt.

If you are a big-boned endomorph (you gain fat easily), and you want to be a marathon runner, GREAT! Start training for a 5k today. Who cares if you’re slow as molasses!

If you are built to run and want to strength train because that’s what brings you joy, go pick up heavy shit! Who cares if the person next to you can lift more? Are YOU lifting more than you did the day before?

We can only blame our parents for so much. Thanks for the crooked spine and acne, DAD.

(Kidding, my dad is cool as hell. He taught me to play poker when I was 5).

#2: Fail You Will. Learn, You Must.

After figuring out my spine sucked, I decided to hire my friend Anthony to coach me via email.

Because I couldn’t lift heavy to start, I had to reallllly focus on my form. It gave all of my muscles and tendons a chance to get caught up to speed.

So I spent two years making steady progress, which was awesome.

And then I went on vacation, where I severely strained my conjoint tendon. 

Lesson learned: never go on vacation again.

My injury was so brutal that I was convinced I had a hernia. I ended up getting an ultrasound on my crotch from two female ultrasound technicians, which was in no way at all awkward.

Kidding. It was aggressively awkward.

Anyways.

After taking multiple weeks off from lifting anything heavy, I started rehab, checked my ego (again), and had to rebuild my form (again), going back 250+ pounds and starting over again.

I felt like Sysphysis, rolling a rock up a hill only to have it roll all the way back down.

Or Charlie Brown trying to kick a football:

But I kept at it. I learned to improve my form. I changed my breathing technique for lifting. And I accepted that I had to go backward in order to eventually break through.

For reference, click through these images and videos below. The “Before” took place before my injury, while the “After” is just a month or two back:

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Aug 15, 2018 at 1:32pm PDT

LESSON LEARNED: Always be learning, when you win or when you lose. Setbacks can be crippling, or they can be painful lessons learned that make you more powerful. I really didn’t have a choice.

You’re gonna get shin splints or plantar fasciitis when you start training for your 5k. Literally everybody does. Take it as a sign you need to fix your running form!

You’re gonna screw up on a lift. Take it as a chance to scale back and rework your form. Video tape your form and check with somebody

You’re gonna get sick and screw up and miss a lift or a hold or a thing. It happens. You can’t change the past (yet), so might as well learn from it and move forward. Rafiki gets me:

#3) Want to Reach a Far Off Goal? Use the Minecraft Strategy.

10 years ago, I had a goal I was racing towards: a 400 pound deadlift.

I’d get marginally closer and then have to back way off. This happened at least half a dozen times.

I believe the reason I finally achieved that goal is because I stopped focusing on rushing to get there! Instead, I just focused on the next workout, the next exercise, the next rep.

In other words: Don’t worry about the building you’re trying to construct. Instead, focus on putting the next brick in the right place, and then repeat. The building will take care of itself.

I call this the Minecraft Strategy.

As for my workouts, I train 4 days per week: Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday. One hour per workout. Each day has a big boring lift attached to it that doesn’t change much at all from week to week.

For the past four years, here’s the deadlift portion of a training day (after many warm-up sets):

Week 1: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 220 pounds.

Week 2: Sets of 3, 2, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 3: Sets of 3, 3, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 4: Sets of 3, 3, 3, for 220 pounds.

Week 5: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 225 pounds.

And repeat. Every week. Every month. For 5 years. Notice that each week I added just ONE rep. And once I hit 3 sets of 3, I’d go up by 5 pounds, and start back at 2, 2, 2.

That is boring as hell. And effective too. Every single week I’d be setting a personal best! I didn’t care about the far-off goal of a 400-lb deadlift, I instead put all of my focus into “Can I crush this next rep?”

This is also EXACTLY how one simply walks into Mordor: one step at a time.

Two weeks ago, my “slow cook” deadlifting workout had me doing 3 sets of 3 reps at 385 pounds.

Anthony told me: “Let’s go heavy next week. And I won’t accept anything less than 415 pounds.”

This was a goal I’d have forever, and Anthony had already set my sights 15 pounds heavier to calm my nerves on the psychological challenge of seeing that much weight on the bar.

So after picking up 405 for a warmup, I went for 420 pounds:

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Nov 21, 2018 at 10:43am PST

No belt, no straps. Just some chalk and Walk the Moon’s “Portugal” on my headphones. Honestly, it was almost a letdown because it came up so quickly…but I was so damn proud to reach a powerful milestone, banish the monkey on my back, and actually feel strong.

Hence the quick fist pump to myself.

This week? It’s back to the boring stuff. Boring, consistent, progress where I just get epic results and feel really good about myself.

I’m okay with that. I jokingly talk about how I went from Steve Rogers to Captain America with this slow, small tactic.

LESSON LEARNED: Are you a shiny-object chasing “I need to be entertained and I change workouts every 3 weeks but I can never seem to get results” type of person?

Fall in love with the process and incremental progress, and you’re gonna go places kid.

Each week, just focus on being better than you did the week before. If you ONLY worry about this, you’ll look back at the end of the year and realize you’re a changed person.

Note: This means you need to show up each week, with few exceptions. Even when life is busy.

#4 – Track the Problem to Crack the Problem.

Fun fact: I currently have a folder in Evernote called “Kambsformation” (Anthony came up with it, and it just stuck).

In that folder I have 1 note for every workout or progress photo from the past 5 years.

I now have 1159 notes in that folder:

As my friend Nick says, “You gotta track the problem to track the problem.”

I have tracked every single workout I’ve done since 2013 in this folder. I have them all in the same place, so I can quickly scan back to any date and time and see where I was, how I trained, and so on.

I know every week exactly what I need to do to be better than the week before. Using the Minecraft Strategy here, it just means I need to focus on ONE single rep heavier.

In addition to tracking my workouts, I’ve become diligent about tracking my calories too. I am not Paleo, or Keto, or Mediterranean.

Instead, I employ a “mental model” diet, with specific rules I follow:

Skip breakfast. I cover this in our guide on Intermittent Fasting.

Eat big after a workout. Adjust the rest of my calories based on goals.

Protein with every meal. Usually chicken.

Veggies with every meal. Brussel sprouts or broccoli.

Adjust carbs and fat to fit macro profile for that day.

A powerbomb shake to hit calorie goals. Water, oats, frozen berries, frozen spinach, and whey protein (I use Optimum Nutrition Vanilla).

Over the past 2 months, I’ve actually leaned out, from 185 pounds down to 172 pounds. I did that by adjusting my caloric intake very simply:

2600 calories on training days

2200 calories on non training days.

For the first few weeks, I actually didn’t lose any weight despite “tracking my calories.” I still believed in thermodynamics, so I started weighing my portions (I like this one) and discovered a few key things.

Namely, that I was overeating without realizing it:

I was underestimating my oats portion by 20% when using a measuring cup instead of a scale

My chipotle lunch contained 1.5 servings of rice by weight, not 1.

As soon as I made those small adjustments, my weight started to drop consistently.

In addition to tracking my food, I take progress photos weekly, and weigh myself each morning.

I don’t freak out if the scale goes up or down. Instead I take a 7-day rolling average and make sure the TREND is in the right direction.

Think of this like the bumper lanes in a bowling alley: As long as the ball is moving towards the pins, that’s good enough.

LESSON LEARNED: We pay attention to the things we track. So track the right stuff! This applies not only to health and fitness, but learning, personal finance, etc. Keep a journal, or an Evernote folder, or a Google Doc. Write down what you did, and what you’re going to do.

It’s valuable as hell. And I don’t care what kind of diet you pick: whichever one leads you to sustainable calorie management in a way that doesn’t make you want to punch a hole in the wall.

If the scale isn’t going down for you, it doesn’t mean that you have a slow metabolism, or that you’re broken. It means you are eating too many calories to induce weight loss. Track your calories more closely.  Use a scale if you need to, until you learn what actual portion sizes are.

Are you taking progress photos? They can be a crucial for making sure you’re losing the right kind of weight!

Are you writing down your workouts or tracking them in an app? How else are you gonna know what you need to do this week to level up!?

#5) “It’s Dangerous to Go Alone. Bring a friend.”

I gotta give a shout out to my friend and coach, Anthony.

He’s been my online coach for the past 5 years and I truly consider him a valuable part of my success. He also has epic hair.

I’d say this is the best money I invest in myself each month – and I’m somebody that tells people how to exercise for a living!

When I’m traveling, or when I have busy weeks, my coach adjusts my schedule to make it work. When I am feeling good, well rested, and amped up, we crank things up. When I’m feeling overwhelmed he slows it down.

And most importantly, he doesn’t put up with my bullshit. You know what I mean – we all have excuses that we feed ourselves daily: too busy, I couldn’t because blah blah blah.

I know Anthony doesn’t want to hear this stuff, so I instead just DO the work! It’s pretty awesome to have somebody else that’s invested in my success, somebody that I can bounce ideas off of, somebody that I know is keeping me accountable, checking my form, etc.

And maybe most importantly, I have the peace of mind to know that I’m actually doing the right stuff, and doing it correctly. I feel confident saying I never would have lifted 420 pounds without my coach.

LESSON LEARNED: If you have the money to invest in yourself, hiring a coach who learns your story can be game changing. If you don’t, having a workout buddy in the trenches with you can be AMAZING too. An accountabilibuddy, if you will.

We’re proud that we have an online coaching program at NF, and we have an online community attached to our course, the NF Academy.

I also know lots of people who work with trainers in person and they can be worth every penny (sometimes!)

If you want to take your fitness more seriously, invest if you can. If you want to take running more seriously, join a running club.

You don’t have to go it alone on this journey, and oftentimes a coach or trusted friend can be an absolute game changer. It was for me.

I hope Anthony lets me keep him as a coach for the next 5 years too.

I proved a troll wrong, now what!?

So I mentioned that I proved somebody wrong on the internet. I mostly say this in jest.

The dude probably didn’t think twice about his comment, and hasn’t thought about it since.

Am I gonna try to right every wrong on the internet? Nope. People say really nasty things about me all the time, that just comes with the territory. It hurts like hell.

And then I get back to helping people and writing about Star Wars and sometimes wearing pants (but today is not that day).

So, although I jokingly say that “I owned that troll,” the reality is that it just. doesn’t. Matter.

I’m really proud of this accomplishment, and I hope my recap can help you crystallize the goals you have floating around your head.

These days, my goals are tighter, and more focused on the process:

Work out 4 days per week, no exception.

Hit my calorie goals 6 days out of 7 each week.

Be better than the last workout.

I’m working on my handstands, mobility, and gymnastic rings stuff…but I’m gonna keep grinding on my deadlifts and squats too.

Considering how quickly that 420 pound deadlift came up, I wonder if I get a 500 pound deadlift…

No way, won’t happen. EVER. Not with these genetics 😛

(I’ll let you know in 5 years).

I’d love to hear from you: do you have a big “dragon slaying” goal you’re working towards in the future?

What can you take from this article and apply to your journey?

For the Rebellion!

-Steve

PS: We are hiring 2-3 certified coaches to join our NF Coaching Program! This is a 100% remote work-from-anywhere position. If you think you’d be a good fit, or know somebody that would, please check out our “work with us” page!

###

All photo credits can be found in this very special footnote[1].

Footnotes    ( returns to text)

Photo Source: Promenade, Mirkwood Elf Archer, Hate leads to suffering, Ready for Scotland, Ready for War

5 Lessons learned from a skinny nerd deadlifting 420 pounds published first on http://fitnetpro.tumblr.com/

[johnclapperne]

5 Lessons learned from a skinny nerd deadlifting 420 pounds

I did it.

I proved somebody wrong on the internet!

I assume the internet will be mailing me a gold medal at any point this week, but until then, let me share the story.

I gave a TedX talk years ago, and I mentioned one of my long-term goals was being able to lift 400 pounds:

My first thought: “Ouch.”

My second thought: “Why am I reading YouTube comments!? No good can come of this.”

My third thought: “I’m gonna prove this person wrong.”

As a skinny nerd with chicken legs that couldn’t build muscle to save my life, this far-off goal suddenly seemed even further off.

Fast forward to last week: not only did I FINALLY reach my 10 year goal of deadlifting 400 pounds, I blew right past it. No straps, no belt. Just some chalk and “internet justice” rage:

For my final rep, I picked up 420 pounds at a bodyweight of 172 pounds. And it came up pretty quickly!

Now, I’ve internalized 5 big lessons on this journey to a deadlift I’m really proud of, especially considering all of those setbacks.

I wanted to share my lessons learned, and show you how you can apply this to your own life.

#1: Screw Your Genetics.

I have the genes of an elf, without the immortality.

If you’re familiar with body types, I’m an endomorph.

I’m naturally very thin and bony, have very thin wrists and ankles, and will forever have chicken legs.

This would be great, if I wanted to be a runner. Not great when you despise running, and you want to pick up heavy things.

Determined to overcome that fate, I began my journey to heavy lifting, only to get knocked back.

6 years ago, I discovered my genes also contain a super fun condition called “spondylolisthesis.”

Don’t bother trying to pronounce it, I still can’t.

It means my vertebrae don’t line up. Essentially, my L5 and S1 are less structurally aligned than a deep-game Jenga tower (Read how I used the “Iron Man Technique” when I got diagnosed).

Jenga: fun for game night, not for spinal metaphors.

When I first learned this, I initially assumed it meant my short lived career as a powerlifter was over, and threw myself one HELL of a pity party.

After that party ended, I got back on the horse.

(Not literally. I don’t have a horse.)

I started working on my deadlift form and core strength. I checked my ego, established a new “square one,” and essentially started over.

Thank god I refused to accept my fate.

Now, obviously I’m not a doctor – I don’t even have pants on right now – so you’re going to need to work with trained professionals if you have a serious medical condition you’re working to overcome.

In my instance, I decided that I didn’t want my genetics to decide my fate: that chicken legs and a crooked spine could be managed. While I might never reach my 10-year goal of a 400 pound deadlift, I’d get started and adjust along the way.

Yup, I know plenty of people can lift WAY more than I can. That’s cool! I’m competing against the ghost of my former self (like a Mario Kart time trial), and that’s all I can do.

I know I’m fighting an uphill battle when I focus on powerlifting when I’m much more likely to be good at running or another endurance activity. That sounds like my personal hell, so I’m gonna play THIS version of life on expert difficulty.

LESSON LEARNED: If you don’t like the game you’re playing, pick a different one! Who cares what your genetics are. You can’t do anything about them. All you can do is play the hand you’re dealt.

If you are a big-boned endomorph (you gain fat easily), and you want to be a marathon runner, GREAT! Start training for a 5k today. Who cares if you’re slow as molasses!

If you are built to run and want to strength train because that’s what brings you joy, go pick up heavy shit! Who cares if the person next to you can lift more? Are YOU lifting more than you did the day before?

We can only blame our parents for so much. Thanks for the crooked spine and acne, DAD.

(Kidding, my dad is cool as hell. He taught me to play poker when I was 5).

#2: Fail You Will. Learn, You Must.

After figuring out my spine sucked, I decided to hire my friend Anthony to coach me via email.

Because I couldn’t lift heavy to start, I had to reallllly focus on my form. It gave all of my muscles and tendons a chance to get caught up to speed.

So I spent two years making steady progress, which was awesome.

And then I went on vacation, where I severely strained my conjoint tendon. 

Lesson learned: never go on vacation again.

My injury was so brutal that I was convinced I had a hernia. I ended up getting an ultrasound on my crotch from two female ultrasound technicians, which was in no way at all awkward.

Kidding. It was aggressively awkward.

Anyways.

After taking multiple weeks off from lifting anything heavy, I started rehab, checked my ego (again), and had to rebuild my form (again), going back 250+ pounds and starting over again.

I felt like Sysphysis, rolling a rock up a hill only to have it roll all the way back down.

Or Charlie Brown trying to kick a football:

But I kept at it. I learned to improve my form. I changed my breathing technique for lifting. And I accepted that I had to go backward in order to eventually break through.

For reference, click through these images and videos below. The “Before” took place before my injury, while the “After” is just a month or two back:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Aug 15, 2018 at 1:32pm PDT

LESSON LEARNED: Always be learning, when you win or when you lose. Setbacks can be crippling, or they can be painful lessons learned that make you more powerful. I really didn’t have a choice.

You’re gonna get shin splints or plantar fasciitis when you start training for your 5k. Literally everybody does. Take it as a sign you need to fix your running form!

You’re gonna screw up on a lift. Take it as a chance to scale back and rework your form. Video tape your form and check with somebody

You’re gonna get sick and screw up and miss a lift or a hold or a thing. It happens. You can’t change the past (yet), so might as well learn from it and move forward. Rafiki gets me:

#3) Want to Reach a Far Off Goal? Use the Minecraft Strategy.

10 years ago, I had a goal I was racing towards: a 400 pound deadlift.

I’d get marginally closer and then have to back way off. This happened at least half a dozen times.

I believe the reason I finally achieved that goal is because I stopped focusing on rushing to get there! Instead, I just focused on the next workout, the next exercise, the next rep.

In other words: Don’t worry about the building you’re trying to construct. Instead, focus on putting the next brick in the right place, and then repeat. The building will take care of itself.

I call this the Minecraft Strategy.

As for my workouts, I train 4 days per week: Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday. One hour per workout. Each day has a big boring lift attached to it that doesn’t change much at all from week to week.

For the past four years, here’s the deadlift portion of a training day (after many warm-up sets):

Week 1: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 220 pounds.

Week 2: Sets of 3, 2, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 3: Sets of 3, 3, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 4: Sets of 3, 3, 3, for 220 pounds.

Week 5: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 225 pounds.

And repeat. Every week. Every month. For 5 years. Notice that each week I added just ONE rep. And once I hit 3 sets of 3, I’d go up by 5 pounds, and start back at 2, 2, 2.

That is boring as hell. And effective too. Every single week I’d be setting a personal best! I didn’t care about the far-off goal of a 400-lb deadlift, I instead put all of my focus into “Can I crush this next rep?”

This is also EXACTLY how one simply walks into Mordor: one step at a time.

Two weeks ago, my “slow cook” deadlifting workout had me doing 3 sets of 3 reps at 385 pounds.

Anthony told me: “Let’s go heavy next week. And I won’t accept anything less than 415 pounds.”

This was a goal I’d have forever, and Anthony had already set my sights 15 pounds heavier to calm my nerves on the psychological challenge of seeing that much weight on the bar.

So after picking up 405 for a warmup, I went for 420 pounds:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Nov 21, 2018 at 10:43am PST

No belt, no straps. Just some chalk and Walk the Moon’s “Portugal” on my headphones. Honestly, it was almost a letdown because it came up so quickly…but I was so damn proud to reach a powerful milestone, banish the monkey on my back, and actually feel strong.

Hence the quick fist pump to myself.

This week? It’s back to the boring stuff. Boring, consistent, progress where I just get epic results and feel really good about myself.

I’m okay with that. I jokingly talk about how I went from Steve Rogers to Captain America with this slow, small tactic.

LESSON LEARNED: Are you a shiny-object chasing “I need to be entertained and I change workouts every 3 weeks but I can never seem to get results” type of person?

Fall in love with the process and incremental progress, and you’re gonna go places kid.

Each week, just focus on being better than you did the week before. If you ONLY worry about this, you’ll look back at the end of the year and realize you’re a changed person.

Note: This means you need to show up each week, with few exceptions. Even when life is busy.

#4 – Track the Problem to Crack the Problem.

Fun fact: I currently have a folder in Evernote called “Kambsformation” (Anthony came up with it, and it just stuck).

In that folder I have 1 note for every workout or progress photo from the past 5 years.

I now have 1159 notes in that folder:

As my friend Nick says, “You gotta track the problem to track the problem.”

I have tracked every single workout I’ve done since 2013 in this folder. I have them all in the same place, so I can quickly scan back to any date and time and see where I was, how I trained, and so on.

I know every week exactly what I need to do to be better than the week before. Using the Minecraft Strategy here, it just means I need to focus on ONE single rep heavier.

In addition to tracking my workouts, I’ve become diligent about tracking my calories too. I am not Paleo, or Keto, or Mediterranean.

Instead, I employ a “mental model” diet, with specific rules I follow:

Skip breakfast. I cover this in our guide on Intermittent Fasting.

Eat big after a workout. Adjust the rest of my calories based on goals.

Protein with every meal. Usually chicken.

Veggies with every meal. Brussel sprouts or broccoli.

Adjust carbs and fat to fit macro profile for that day.

A powerbomb shake to hit calorie goals. Water, oats, frozen berries, frozen spinach, and whey protein (I use Optimum Nutrition Vanilla).

Over the past 2 months, I’ve actually leaned out, from 185 pounds down to 172 pounds. I did that by adjusting my caloric intake very simply:

2600 calories on training days

2200 calories on non training days.

For the first few weeks, I actually didn’t lose any weight despite “tracking my calories.” I still believed in thermodynamics, so I started weighing my portions (I like this one) and discovered a few key things.

Namely, that I was overeating without realizing it:

I was underestimating my oats portion by 20% when using a measuring cup instead of a scale

My chipotle lunch contained 1.5 servings of rice by weight, not 1.

As soon as I made those small adjustments, my weight started to drop consistently.

In addition to tracking my food, I take progress photos weekly, and weigh myself each morning.

I don’t freak out if the scale goes up or down. Instead I take a 7-day rolling average and make sure the TREND is in the right direction.

Think of this like the bumper lanes in a bowling alley: As long as the ball is moving towards the pins, that’s good enough.

LESSON LEARNED: We pay attention to the things we track. So track the right stuff! This applies not only to health and fitness, but learning, personal finance, etc. Keep a journal, or an Evernote folder, or a Google Doc. Write down what you did, and what you’re going to do.

It’s valuable as hell. And I don’t care what kind of diet you pick: whichever one leads you to sustainable calorie management in a way that doesn’t make you want to punch a hole in the wall.

If the scale isn’t going down for you, it doesn’t mean that you have a slow metabolism, or that you’re broken. It means you are eating too many calories to induce weight loss. Track your calories more closely.  Use a scale if you need to, until you learn what actual portion sizes are.

Are you taking progress photos? They can be a crucial for making sure you’re losing the right kind of weight!

Are you writing down your workouts or tracking them in an app? How else are you gonna know what you need to do this week to level up!?

#5) “It’s Dangerous to Go Alone. Bring a friend.”

I gotta give a shout out to my friend and coach, Anthony.

He’s been my online coach for the past 5 years and I truly consider him a valuable part of my success. He also has epic hair.

I’d say this is the best money I invest in myself each month – and I’m somebody that tells people how to exercise for a living!

When I’m traveling, or when I have busy weeks, my coach adjusts my schedule to make it work. When I am feeling good, well rested, and amped up, we crank things up. When I’m feeling overwhelmed he slows it down.

And most importantly, he doesn’t put up with my bullshit. You know what I mean – we all have excuses that we feed ourselves daily: too busy, I couldn’t because blah blah blah.

I know Anthony doesn’t want to hear this stuff, so I instead just DO the work! It’s pretty awesome to have somebody else that’s invested in my success, somebody that I can bounce ideas off of, somebody that I know is keeping me accountable, checking my form, etc.

And maybe most importantly, I have the peace of mind to know that I’m actually doing the right stuff, and doing it correctly. I feel confident saying I never would have lifted 420 pounds without my coach.

LESSON LEARNED: If you have the money to invest in yourself, hiring a coach who learns your story can be game changing. If you don’t, having a workout buddy in the trenches with you can be AMAZING too. An accountabilibuddy, if you will.

We’re proud that we have an online coaching program at NF, and we have an online community attached to our course, the NF Academy.

I also know lots of people who work with trainers in person and they can be worth every penny (sometimes!)

If you want to take your fitness more seriously, invest if you can. If you want to take running more seriously, join a running club.

You don’t have to go it alone on this journey, and oftentimes a coach or trusted friend can be an absolute game changer. It was for me.

I hope Anthony lets me keep him as a coach for the next 5 years too.

I proved a troll wrong, now what!?

So I mentioned that I proved somebody wrong on the internet. I mostly say this in jest.

The dude probably didn’t think twice about his comment, and hasn’t thought about it since.

Am I gonna try to right every wrong on the internet? Nope. People say really nasty things about me all the time, that just comes with the territory. It hurts like hell.

And then I get back to helping people and writing about Star Wars and sometimes wearing pants (but today is not that day).

So, although I jokingly say that “I owned that troll,” the reality is that it just. doesn’t. Matter.

I’m really proud of this accomplishment, and I hope my recap can help you crystallize the goals you have floating around your head.

These days, my goals are tighter, and more focused on the process:

Work out 4 days per week, no exception.

Hit my calorie goals 6 days out of 7 each week.

Be better than the last workout.

I’m working on

https://ift.tt/2FMVSlh

[albertcaldwellne]

5 Lessons learned from a skinny nerd deadlifting 420 pounds

I did it.

I proved somebody wrong on the internet!

I assume the internet will be mailing me a gold medal at any point this week, but until then, let me share the story.

I gave a TedX talk years ago, and I mentioned one of my long-term goals was being able to lift 400 pounds:

My first thought: “Ouch.”

My second thought: “Why am I reading YouTube comments!? No good can come of this.”

My third thought: “I’m gonna prove this person wrong.”

As a skinny nerd with chicken legs that couldn’t build muscle to save my life, this far-off goal suddenly seemed even further off.

Fast forward to last week: not only did I FINALLY reach my 10 year goal of deadlifting 400 pounds, I blew right past it. No straps, no belt. Just some chalk and “internet justice” rage:

For my final rep, I picked up 420 pounds at a bodyweight of 172 pounds. And it came up pretty quickly!

Now, I’ve internalized 5 big lessons on this journey to a deadlift I’m really proud of, especially considering all of those setbacks.

I wanted to share my lessons learned, and show you how you can apply this to your own life.

#1: Screw Your Genetics.

I have the genes of an elf, without the immortality.

If you’re familiar with body types, I’m an endomorph.

I’m naturally very thin and bony, have very thin wrists and ankles, and will forever have chicken legs.

This would be great, if I wanted to be a runner. Not great when you despise running, and you want to pick up heavy things.

Determined to overcome that fate, I began my journey to heavy lifting, only to get knocked back.

6 years ago, I discovered my genes also contain a super fun condition called “spondylolisthesis.”

Don’t bother trying to pronounce it, I still can’t.

It means my vertebrae don’t line up. Essentially, my L5 and S1 are less structurally aligned than a deep-game Jenga tower (Read how I used the “Iron Man Technique” when I got diagnosed).

Jenga: fun for game night, not for spinal metaphors.

When I first learned this, I initially assumed it meant my short lived career as a powerlifter was over, and threw myself one HELL of a pity party.

After that party ended, I got back on the horse.

(Not literally. I don’t have a horse.)

I started working on my deadlift form and core strength. I checked my ego, established a new “square one,” and essentially started over.

Thank god I refused to accept my fate.

Now, obviously I’m not a doctor – I don’t even have pants on right now – so you’re going to need to work with trained professionals if you have a serious medical condition you’re working to overcome.

In my instance, I decided that I didn’t want my genetics to decide my fate: that chicken legs and a crooked spine could be managed. While I might never reach my 10-year goal of a 400 pound deadlift, I’d get started and adjust along the way.

Yup, I know plenty of people can lift WAY more than I can. That’s cool! I’m competing against the ghost of my former self (like a Mario Kart time trial), and that’s all I can do.

I know I’m fighting an uphill battle when I focus on powerlifting when I’m much more likely to be good at running or another endurance activity. That sounds like my personal hell, so I’m gonna play THIS version of life on expert difficulty.

LESSON LEARNED: If you don’t like the game you’re playing, pick a different one! Who cares what your genetics are. You can’t do anything about them. All you can do is play the hand you’re dealt.

If you are a big-boned endomorph (you gain fat easily), and you want to be a marathon runner, GREAT! Start training for a 5k today. Who cares if you’re slow as molasses!

If you are built to run and want to strength train because that’s what brings you joy, go pick up heavy shit! Who cares if the person next to you can lift more? Are YOU lifting more than you did the day before?

We can only blame our parents for so much. Thanks for the crooked spine and acne, DAD.

(Kidding, my dad is cool as hell. He taught me to play poker when I was 5).

#2: Fail You Will. Learn, You Must.

After figuring out my spine sucked, I decided to hire my friend Anthony to coach me via email.

Because I couldn’t lift heavy to start, I had to reallllly focus on my form. It gave all of my muscles and tendons a chance to get caught up to speed.

So I spent two years making steady progress, which was awesome.

And then I went on vacation, where I severely strained my conjoint tendon. 

Lesson learned: never go on vacation again.

My injury was so brutal that I was convinced I had a hernia. I ended up getting an ultrasound on my crotch from two female ultrasound technicians, which was in no way at all awkward.

Kidding. It was aggressively awkward.

Anyways.

After taking multiple weeks off from lifting anything heavy, I started rehab, checked my ego (again), and had to rebuild my form (again), going back 250+ pounds and starting over again.

I felt like Sysphysis, rolling a rock up a hill only to have it roll all the way back down.

Or Charlie Brown trying to kick a football:

But I kept at it. I learned to improve my form. I changed my breathing technique for lifting. And I accepted that I had to go backward in order to eventually break through.

For reference, click through these images and videos below. The “Before” took place before my injury, while the “After” is just a month or two back:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Aug 15, 2018 at 1:32pm PDT

LESSON LEARNED: Always be learning, when you win or when you lose. Setbacks can be crippling, or they can be painful lessons learned that make you more powerful. I really didn’t have a choice.

You’re gonna get shin splints or plantar fasciitis when you start training for your 5k. Literally everybody does. Take it as a sign you need to fix your running form!

You’re gonna screw up on a lift. Take it as a chance to scale back and rework your form. Video tape your form and check with somebody

You’re gonna get sick and screw up and miss a lift or a hold or a thing. It happens. You can’t change the past (yet), so might as well learn from it and move forward. Rafiki gets me:

#3) Want to Reach a Far Off Goal? Use the Minecraft Strategy.

10 years ago, I had a goal I was racing towards: a 400 pound deadlift.

I’d get marginally closer and then have to back way off. This happened at least half a dozen times.

I believe the reason I finally achieved that goal is because I stopped focusing on rushing to get there! Instead, I just focused on the next workout, the next exercise, the next rep.

In other words: Don’t worry about the building you’re trying to construct. Instead, focus on putting the next brick in the right place, and then repeat. The building will take care of itself.

I call this the Minecraft Strategy.

As for my workouts, I train 4 days per week: Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday. One hour per workout. Each day has a big boring lift attached to it that doesn’t change much at all from week to week.

For the past four years, here’s the deadlift portion of a training day (after many warm-up sets):

Week 1: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 220 pounds.

Week 2: Sets of 3, 2, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 3: Sets of 3, 3, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 4: Sets of 3, 3, 3, for 220 pounds.

Week 5: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 225 pounds.

And repeat. Every week. Every month. For 5 years. Notice that each week I added just ONE rep. And once I hit 3 sets of 3, I’d go up by 5 pounds, and start back at 2, 2, 2.

That is boring as hell. And effective too. Every single week I’d be setting a personal best! I didn’t care about the far-off goal of a 400-lb deadlift, I instead put all of my focus into “Can I crush this next rep?”

This is also EXACTLY how one simply walks into Mordor: one step at a time.

Two weeks ago, my “slow cook” deadlifting workout had me doing 3 sets of 3 reps at 385 pounds.

Anthony told me: “Let’s go heavy next week. And I won’t accept anything less than 415 pounds.”

This was a goal I’d have forever, and Anthony had already set my sights 15 pounds heavier to calm my nerves on the psychological challenge of seeing that much weight on the bar.

So after picking up 405 for a warmup, I went for 420 pounds:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Nov 21, 2018 at 10:43am PST

No belt, no straps. Just some chalk and Walk the Moon’s “Portugal” on my headphones. Honestly, it was almost a letdown because it came up so quickly…but I was so damn proud to reach a powerful milestone, banish the monkey on my back, and actually feel strong.

Hence the quick fist pump to myself.

This week? It’s back to the boring stuff. Boring, consistent, progress where I just get epic results and feel really good about myself.

I’m okay with that. I jokingly talk about how I went from Steve Rogers to Captain America with this slow, small tactic.

LESSON LEARNED: Are you a shiny-object chasing “I need to be entertained and I change workouts every 3 weeks but I can never seem to get results” type of person?

Fall in love with the process and incremental progress, and you’re gonna go places kid.

Each week, just focus on being better than you did the week before. If you ONLY worry about this, you’ll look back at the end of the year and realize you’re a changed person.

Note: This means you need to show up each week, with few exceptions. Even when life is busy.

#4 – Track the Problem to Crack the Problem.

Fun fact: I currently have a folder in Evernote called “Kambsformation” (Anthony came up with it, and it just stuck).

In that folder I have 1 note for every workout or progress photo from the past 5 years.

I now have 1159 notes in that folder:

As my friend Nick says, “You gotta track the problem to track the problem.”

I have tracked every single workout I’ve done since 2013 in this folder. I have them all in the same place, so I can quickly scan back to any date and time and see where I was, how I trained, and so on.

I know every week exactly what I need to do to be better than the week before. Using the Minecraft Strategy here, it just means I need to focus on ONE single rep heavier.

In addition to tracking my workouts, I’ve become diligent about tracking my calories too. I am not Paleo, or Keto, or Mediterranean.

Instead, I employ a “mental model” diet, with specific rules I follow:

Skip breakfast. I cover this in our guide on Intermittent Fasting.

Eat big after a workout. Adjust the rest of my calories based on goals.

Protein with every meal. Usually chicken.

Veggies with every meal. Brussel sprouts or broccoli.

Adjust carbs and fat to fit macro profile for that day.

A powerbomb shake to hit calorie goals. Water, oats, frozen berries, frozen spinach, and whey protein (I use Optimum Nutrition Vanilla).

Over the past 2 months, I’ve actually leaned out, from 185 pounds down to 172 pounds. I did that by adjusting my caloric intake very simply:

2600 calories on training days

2200 calories on non training days.

For the first few weeks, I actually didn’t lose any weight despite “tracking my calories.” I still believed in thermodynamics, so I started weighing my portions (I like this one) and discovered a few key things.

Namely, that I was overeating without realizing it:

I was underestimating my oats portion by 20% when using a measuring cup instead of a scale

My chipotle lunch contained 1.5 servings of rice by weight, not 1.

As soon as I made those small adjustments, my weight started to drop consistently.

In addition to tracking my food, I take progress photos weekly, and weigh myself each morning.

I don’t freak out if the scale goes up or down. Instead I take a 7-day rolling average and make sure the TREND is in the right direction.

Think of this like the bumper lanes in a bowling alley: As long as the ball is moving towards the pins, that’s good enough.

LESSON LEARNED: We pay attention to the things we track. So track the right stuff! This applies not only to health and fitness, but learning, personal finance, etc. Keep a journal, or an Evernote folder, or a Google Doc. Write down what you did, and what you’re going to do.

It’s valuable as hell. And I don’t care what kind of diet you pick: whichever one leads you to sustainable calorie management in a way that doesn’t make you want to punch a hole in the wall.

If the scale isn’t going down for you, it doesn’t mean that you have a slow metabolism, or that you’re broken. It means you are eating too many calories to induce weight loss. Track your calories more closely.  Use a scale if you need to, until you learn what actual portion sizes are.

Are you taking progress photos? They can be a crucial for making sure you’re losing the right kind of weight!

Are you writing down your workouts or tracking them in an app? How else are you gonna know what you need to do this week to level up!?

#5) “It’s Dangerous to Go Alone. Bring a friend.”

I gotta give a shout out to my friend and coach, Anthony.

He’s been my online coach for the past 5 years and I truly consider him a valuable part of my success. He also has epic hair.

I’d say this is the best money I invest in myself each month – and I’m somebody that tells people how to exercise for a living!

When I’m traveling, or when I have busy weeks, my coach adjusts my schedule to make it work. When I am feeling good, well rested, and amped up, we crank things up. When I’m feeling overwhelmed he slows it down.

And most importantly, he doesn’t put up with my bullshit. You know what I mean – we all have excuses that we feed ourselves daily: too busy, I couldn’t because blah blah blah.

I know Anthony doesn’t want to hear this stuff, so I instead just DO the work! It’s pretty awesome to have somebody else that’s invested in my success, somebody that I can bounce ideas off of, somebody that I know is keeping me accountable, checking my form, etc.

And maybe most importantly, I have the peace of mind to know that I’m actually doing the right stuff, and doing it correctly. I feel confident saying I never would have lifted 420 pounds without my coach.

LESSON LEARNED: If you have the money to invest in yourself, hiring a coach who learns your story can be game changing. If you don’t, having a workout buddy in the trenches with you can be AMAZING too. An accountabilibuddy, if you will.

We’re proud that we have an online coaching program at NF, and we have an online community attached to our course, the NF Academy.

I also know lots of people who work with trainers in person and they can be worth every penny (sometimes!)

If you want to take your fitness more seriously, invest if you can. If you want to take running more seriously, join a running club.

You don’t have to go it alone on this journey, and oftentimes a coach or trusted friend can be an absolute game changer. It was for me.

I hope Anthony lets me keep him as a coach for the next 5 years too.

I proved a troll wrong, now what!?

So I mentioned that I proved somebody wrong on the internet. I mostly say this in jest.

The dude probably didn’t think twice about his comment, and hasn’t thought about it since.

Am I gonna try to right every wrong on the internet? Nope. People say really nasty things about me all the time, that just comes with the territory. It hurts like hell.

And then I get back to helping people and writing about Star Wars and sometimes wearing pants (but today is not that day).

So, although I jokingly say that “I owned that troll,” the reality is that it just. doesn’t. Matter.

I’m really proud of this accomplishment, and I hope my recap can help you crystallize the goals you have floating around your head.

These days, my goals are tighter, and more focused on the process:

Work out 4 days per week, no exception.

Hit my calorie goals 6 days out of 7 each week.

Be better than the last workout.

I’m working on

https://ift.tt/2FMVSlh

[denisalvney]

5 Lessons learned from a skinny nerd deadlifting 420 pounds

I did it.

I proved somebody wrong on the internet!

I assume the internet will be mailing me a gold medal at any point this week, but until then, let me share the story.

I gave a TedX talk years ago, and I mentioned one of my long-term goals was being able to lift 400 pounds:

My first thought: “Ouch.”

My second thought: “Why am I reading YouTube comments!? No good can come of this.”

My third thought: “I’m gonna prove this person wrong.”

As a skinny nerd with chicken legs that couldn’t build muscle to save my life, this far-off goal suddenly seemed even further off.

Fast forward to last week: not only did I FINALLY reach my 10 year goal of deadlifting 400 pounds, I blew right past it. No straps, no belt. Just some chalk and “internet justice” rage:

For my final rep, I picked up 420 pounds at a bodyweight of 172 pounds. And it came up pretty quickly!

Now, I’ve internalized 5 big lessons on this journey to a deadlift I’m really proud of, especially considering all of those setbacks.

I wanted to share my lessons learned, and show you how you can apply this to your own life.

#1: Screw Your Genetics.

I have the genes of an elf, without the immortality.

If you’re familiar with body types, I’m an endomorph.

I’m naturally very thin and bony, have very thin wrists and ankles, and will forever have chicken legs.

This would be great, if I wanted to be a runner. Not great when you despise running, and you want to pick up heavy things.

Determined to overcome that fate, I began my journey to heavy lifting, only to get knocked back.

6 years ago, I discovered my genes also contain a super fun condition called “spondylolisthesis.”

Don’t bother trying to pronounce it, I still can’t.

It means my vertebrae don’t line up. Essentially, my L5 and S1 are less structurally aligned than a deep-game Jenga tower (Read how I used the “Iron Man Technique” when I got diagnosed).

Jenga: fun for game night, not for spinal metaphors.

When I first learned this, I initially assumed it meant my short lived career as a powerlifter was over, and threw myself one HELL of a pity party.

After that party ended, I got back on the horse.

(Not literally. I don’t have a horse.)

I started working on my deadlift form and core strength. I checked my ego, established a new “square one,” and essentially started over.

Thank god I refused to accept my fate.

Now, obviously I’m not a doctor – I don’t even have pants on right now – so you’re going to need to work with trained professionals if you have a serious medical condition you’re working to overcome.

In my instance, I decided that I didn’t want my genetics to decide my fate: that chicken legs and a crooked spine could be managed. While I might never reach my 10-year goal of a 400 pound deadlift, I’d get started and adjust along the way.

Yup, I know plenty of people can lift WAY more than I can. That’s cool! I’m competing against the ghost of my former self (like a Mario Kart time trial), and that’s all I can do.

I know I’m fighting an uphill battle when I focus on powerlifting when I’m much more likely to be good at running or another endurance activity. That sounds like my personal hell, so I’m gonna play THIS version of life on expert difficulty.

LESSON LEARNED: If you don’t like the game you’re playing, pick a different one! Who cares what your genetics are. You can’t do anything about them. All you can do is play the hand you’re dealt.

If you are a big-boned endomorph (you gain fat easily), and you want to be a marathon runner, GREAT! Start training for a 5k today. Who cares if you’re slow as molasses!

If you are built to run and want to strength train because that’s what brings you joy, go pick up heavy shit! Who cares if the person next to you can lift more? Are YOU lifting more than you did the day before?

We can only blame our parents for so much. Thanks for the crooked spine and acne, DAD.

(Kidding, my dad is cool as hell. He taught me to play poker when I was 5).

#2: Fail You Will. Learn, You Must.

After figuring out my spine sucked, I decided to hire my friend Anthony to coach me via email.

Because I couldn’t lift heavy to start, I had to reallllly focus on my form. It gave all of my muscles and tendons a chance to get caught up to speed.

So I spent two years making steady progress, which was awesome.

And then I went on vacation, where I severely strained my conjoint tendon. 

Lesson learned: never go on vacation again.

My injury was so brutal that I was convinced I had a hernia. I ended up getting an ultrasound on my crotch from two female ultrasound technicians, which was in no way at all awkward.

Kidding. It was aggressively awkward.

Anyways.

After taking multiple weeks off from lifting anything heavy, I started rehab, checked my ego (again), and had to rebuild my form (again), going back 250+ pounds and starting over again.

I felt like Sysphysis, rolling a rock up a hill only to have it roll all the way back down.

Or Charlie Brown trying to kick a football:

But I kept at it. I learned to improve my form. I changed my breathing technique for lifting. And I accepted that I had to go backward in order to eventually break through.

For reference, click through these images and videos below. The “Before” took place before my injury, while the “After” is just a month or two back:

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Aug 15, 2018 at 1:32pm PDT

LESSON LEARNED: Always be learning, when you win or when you lose. Setbacks can be crippling, or they can be painful lessons learned that make you more powerful. I really didn’t have a choice.

You’re gonna get shin splints or plantar fasciitis when you start training for your 5k. Literally everybody does. Take it as a sign you need to fix your running form!

You’re gonna screw up on a lift. Take it as a chance to scale back and rework your form. Video tape your form and check with somebody

You’re gonna get sick and screw up and miss a lift or a hold or a thing. It happens. You can’t change the past (yet), so might as well learn from it and move forward. Rafiki gets me:

#3) Want to Reach a Far Off Goal? Use the Minecraft Strategy.

10 years ago, I had a goal I was racing towards: a 400 pound deadlift.

I’d get marginally closer and then have to back way off. This happened at least half a dozen times.

I believe the reason I finally achieved that goal is because I stopped focusing on rushing to get there! Instead, I just focused on the next workout, the next exercise, the next rep.

In other words: Don’t worry about the building you’re trying to construct. Instead, focus on putting the next brick in the right place, and then repeat. The building will take care of itself.

I call this the Minecraft Strategy.

As for my workouts, I train 4 days per week: Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday. One hour per workout. Each day has a big boring lift attached to it that doesn’t change much at all from week to week.

For the past four years, here’s the deadlift portion of a training day (after many warm-up sets):

Week 1: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 220 pounds.

Week 2: Sets of 3, 2, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 3: Sets of 3, 3, 2, for 220 pounds.

Week 4: Sets of 3, 3, 3, for 220 pounds.

Week 5: Sets of 2, 2, 2 for 225 pounds.

And repeat. Every week. Every month. For 5 years. Notice that each week I added just ONE rep. And once I hit 3 sets of 3, I’d go up by 5 pounds, and start back at 2, 2, 2.

That is boring as hell. And effective too. Every single week I’d be setting a personal best! I didn’t care about the far-off goal of a 400-lb deadlift, I instead put all of my focus into “Can I crush this next rep?”

This is also EXACTLY how one simply walks into Mordor: one step at a time.

Two weeks ago, my “slow cook” deadlifting workout had me doing 3 sets of 3 reps at 385 pounds.

Anthony told me: “Let’s go heavy next week. And I won’t accept anything less than 415 pounds.”

This was a goal I’d have forever, and Anthony had already set my sights 15 pounds heavier to calm my nerves on the psychological challenge of seeing that much weight on the bar.

So after picking up 405 for a warmup, I went for 420 pounds:

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Steve Kamb (@stevekamb) on Nov 21, 2018 at 10:43am PST

No belt, no straps. Just some chalk and Walk the Moon’s “Portugal” on my headphones. Honestly, it was almost a letdown because it came up so quickly…but I was so damn proud to reach a powerful milestone, banish the monkey on my back, and actually feel strong.

Hence the quick fist pump to myself.

This week? It’s back to the boring stuff. Boring, consistent, progress where I just get epic results and feel really good about myself.

I’m okay with that. I jokingly talk about how I went from Steve Rogers to Captain America with this slow, small tactic.

LESSON LEARNED: Are you a shiny-object chasing “I need to be entertained and I change workouts every 3 weeks but I can never seem to get results” type of person?

Fall in love with the process and incremental progress, and you’re gonna go places kid.

Each week, just focus on being better than you did the week before. If you ONLY worry about this, you’ll look back at the end of the year and realize you’re a changed person.

Note: This means you need to show up each week, with few exceptions. Even when life is busy.

#4 – Track the Problem to Crack the Problem.

Fun fact: I currently have a folder in Evernote called “Kambsformation” (Anthony came up with it, and it just stuck).

In that folder I have 1 note for every workout or progress photo from the past 5 years.

I now have 1159 notes in that folder:

As my friend Nick says, “You gotta track the problem to track the problem.”

I have tracked every single workout I’ve done since 2013 in this folder. I have them all in the same place, so I can quickly scan back to any date and time and see where I was, how I trained, and so on.

I know every week exactly what I need to do to be better than the week before. Using the Minecraft Strategy here, it just means I need to focus on ONE single rep heavier.

In addition to tracking my workouts, I’ve become diligent about tracking my calories too. I am not Paleo, or Keto, or Mediterranean.

Instead, I employ a “mental model” diet, with specific rules I follow:

Skip breakfast. I cover this in our guide on Intermittent Fasting.

Eat big after a workout. Adjust the rest of my calories based on goals.

Protein with every meal. Usually chicken.

Veggies with every meal. Brussel sprouts or broccoli.

Adjust carbs and fat to fit macro profile for that day.

A powerbomb shake to hit calorie goals. Water, oats, frozen berries, frozen spinach, and whey protein (I use Optimum Nutrition Vanilla).

Over the past 2 months, I’ve actually leaned out, from 185 pounds down to 172 pounds. I did that by adjusting my caloric intake very simply:

2600 calories on training days

2200 calories on non training days.

For the first few weeks, I actually didn’t lose any weight despite “tracking my calories.” I still believed in thermodynamics, so I started weighing my portions (I like this one) and discovered a few key things.

Namely, that I was overeating without realizing it:

I was underestimating my oats portion by 20% when using a measuring cup instead of a scale

My chipotle lunch contained 1.5 servings of rice by weight, not 1.

As soon as I made those small adjustments, my weight started to drop consistently.

In addition to tracking my food, I take progress photos weekly, and weigh myself each morning.

I don’t freak out if the scale goes up or down. Instead I take a 7-day rolling average and make sure the TREND is in the right direction.

Think of this like the bumper lanes in a bowling alley: As long as the ball is moving towards the pins, that’s good enough.

LESSON LEARNED: We pay attention to the things we track. So track the right stuff! This applies not only to health and fitness, but learning, personal finance, etc. Keep a journal, or an Evernote folder, or a Google Doc. Write down what you did, and what you’re going to do.

It’s valuable as hell. And I don’t care what kind of diet you pick: whichever one leads you to sustainable calorie management in a way that doesn’t make you want to punch a hole in the wall.

If the scale isn’t going down for you, it doesn’t mean that you have a slow metabolism, or that you’re broken. It means you are eating too many calories to induce weight loss. Track your calories more closely.  Use a scale if you need to, until you learn what actual portion sizes are.

Are you taking progress photos? They can be a crucial for making sure you’re losing the right kind of weight!

Are you writing down your workouts or tracking them in an app? How else are you gonna know what you need to do this week to level up!?

#5) “It’s Dangerous to Go Alone. Bring a friend.”

I gotta give a shout out to my friend and coach, Anthony.

He’s been my online coach for the past 5 years and I truly consider him a valuable part of my success. He also has epic hair.

I’d say this is the best money I invest in myself each month – and I’m somebody that tells people how to exercise for a living!

When I’m traveling, or when I have busy weeks, my coach adjusts my schedule to make it work. When I am feeling good, well rested, and amped up, we crank things up. When I’m feeling overwhelmed he slows it down.

And most importantly, he doesn’t put up with my bullshit. You know what I mean – we all have excuses that we feed ourselves daily: too busy, I couldn’t because blah blah blah.

I know Anthony doesn’t want to hear this stuff, so I instead just DO the work! It’s pretty awesome to have somebody else that’s invested in my success, somebody that I can bounce ideas off of, somebody that I know is keeping me accountable, checking my form, etc.

And maybe most importantly, I have the peace of mind to know that I’m actually doing the right stuff, and doing it correctly. I feel confident saying I never would have lifted 420 pounds without my coach.

LESSON LEARNED: If you have the money to invest in yourself, hiring a coach who learns your story can be game changing. If you don’t, having a workout buddy in the trenches with you can be AMAZING too. An accountabilibuddy, if you will.

We’re proud that we have an online coaching program at NF, and we have an online community attached to our course, the NF Academy.

I also know lots of people who work with trainers in person and they can be worth every penny (sometimes!)

If you want to take your fitness more seriously, invest if you can. If you want to take running more seriously, join a running club.

You don’t have to go it alone on this journey, and oftentimes a coach or trusted friend can be an absolute game changer. It was for me.

I hope Anthony lets me keep him as a coach for the next 5 years too.

I proved a troll wrong, now what!?

So I mentioned that I proved somebody wrong on the internet. I mostly say this in jest.

The dude probably didn’t think twice about his comment, and hasn’t thought about it since.

Am I gonna try to right every wrong on the internet? Nope. People say really nasty things about me all the time, that just comes with the territory. It hurts like hell.

And then I get back to helping people and writing about Star Wars and sometimes wearing pants (but today is not that day).

So, although I jokingly say that “I owned that troll,” the reality is that it just. doesn’t. Matter.

I’m really proud of this accomplishment, and I hope my recap can help you crystallize the goals you have floating around your head.

These days, my goals are tighter, and more focused on the process:

Work out 4 days per week, no exception.

Hit my calorie goals 6 days out of 7 each week.

Be better than the last workout.

I’m working on my handstands, mobility, and gymnastic rings stuff…but I’m gonna keep grinding on my deadlifts and squats too.

Considering how quickly that 420 pound deadlift came up, I wonder if I get a 500 pound deadlift…

No way, won’t happen. EVER. Not with these genetics 😛

(I’ll let you know in 5 years).

I’d love to hear from you: do you have a big “dragon slaying” goal you’re working towards in the future?

What can you take from this article and apply to your journey?

For the Rebellion!

-Steve

PS: We are hiring 2-3 certified coaches to join our NF Coaching Program! This is a 100% remote work-from-anywhere position. If you think you’d be a good fit, or know somebody that would, please check out our “work with us” page!

###

All photo credits can be found in this very special footnote[1].

Footnotes    ( returns to text)

Photo Source: Promenade, Mirkwood Elf Archer, Hate leads to suffering, Ready for Scotland, Ready for War

5 Lessons learned from a skinny nerd deadlifting 420 pounds published first on https://www.nerdfitness.com

[imakeficrequestsandthendisappear]

When You Say My Name CH7

Author: YoungDumbandFullofHeadcanons /https://imakeficrequestsandthendisappear.tumblr.com/

Summary: Being an Army brat means that every new town is a chance to start over. When the Criss family moves to Derry, Vicky Criss dies so Vic can start living.

Pre-IT (2017), AU: Trans!Vic Centric, Henry/Vic Slow burn

Angst  Fluff  More Angst  Smut  Even More Angst Playing fast and loose with the canon

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Major Character Death Rape/Non-Con Underage

Category: M/M

Fandoms: IT (2017) IT - Stephen King

Relationship: Henry Bowers/Victor Criss

Characters: Henry Bowers Victor Criss Patrick Hockstetter Reginald “Belch” Huggins Henry Bowers’s Gang (IT) Oscar “Butch” BowersThe Losers Club (IT) Pennywise (IT)

Language:English

Chapter 7: Henry Part 2

Summary: Henry can’t gather the air necessary to sob, so he just keeps sputtering and choking until his face turns red.

So Vic leans down and cages his arms around Henry’s head, blocking out the sound and light around him, intending on helping him breath threw the panic. But instead Henry reaches up, latches digging fingers into Vic’s sides, drags him down and screams into his chest.

March, 1986

Digging through the cupboard under the bathroom sink, Vic finally comes across the pink bag he hasn’t seen years. He unzips it and finds the contents to be exactly what he remembers always being it there. A roll of medical tape, a fatter roll of elastic gauze, tiny blister-sized invisible Band-Aids, disinfectant spray, and a host of other practical tools for on-the-spot medical treatment.

Vic dumps all the supplies into his backpack, because God knows he’s not bringing a fucking pink fanny-pack to school tomorrow.

Yesterday Henry walked around school with that limp in his left ankle more pronounced than ever. He still drug Vic around by the wrist, like always, but he was moving slowly and wincing every few steps, and when he tried to sit down his foot rolled under the pressure and he fell to the grass.

So today at lunch, as they sit in their hidden alcove beside the school building, Vic shows Henry how to tape and wrap his sprained ankle. Henry is ambivalent, or some cross between irate and panicked, about taking his shoe and sock off and rolling up his pant leg. Yes, the bruise is absolutely heinous, all green and purple and splotchy, but Vic doesn’t say anything about it to make Henry any more uncomfortable.

“How’d you learn this?” Henry asks as Vic makes sure the gauze aren’t too tight but will still support the weakened bones.

“Umm…” Vic stalls.

Don’t say it. Don’t tell Henry about dance class.

“…Like, sports and stuff.” He lies with a shrug.

Henry gives him a skeptical look, but otherwise drops the subject as he puts his shoe back on over the bandages.

Vic hasn’t been in a dance class since fourth grade. It was one of those extracurricular activities that Mom thought would be so much fun for her girls, but it turned out to be too much of a commitment and way too stressful and the bills had started to pile up. Plus, Vic’s hatred for ballet escalated to the point where he would purposefully land wrong on his feet, hoping he would break a bone and get to sit out. Hence the need for Mom to fill a fanny pack with medical tape and bandages, and of course it had to be pink.

Every day has gotten progressively better since he and Henry had started hanging out. The human contact seems to be putting some life back in them. Vic doesn’t feel as much like a ghost anymore. Henry looks a little less dead behind the eyes. The physical side hasn’t improved, both still came to school battle-worn and bloody, but being around each other gives them the chance to heal.

After their first conversation, Vic thought maybe things would just go back to the previous silent indifference they had had for one another. But the very next day after third period Henry walked right back up to Vic’s desk, grabbed him by the wrist, and led him outside again.

“Come on,” Henry says.

Vic doesn't even have to think twice.

The firm hold Henry takes on him is a little straining, and one time the hall was crowed so Henry pulled on his arm a little too hard, but every day it is a relief to feel that hand on his wrist. If Henry didn’t grab on and pull him around like that, Vic would be too afraid to follow him. Because, what if Henry got sick of him? What if he was too weird and Henry didn’t want him around? What if Henry started ignoring him? Like everyone ignores him. So Vic takes that painful grip as a sign that Henry does want to hang out with him and for once he feels wanted.

They keep tabs on each other’s new bruises and cuts, but they never talk about where they come from, because to say it aloud would mean having to face something both boys want to forget. Even only for a short time, they just want to pretend it isn’t happening.

“Where’d you move from?” Henry asks.

Vic huffs out a breath and considers the mental list.

“Connecticut, New York, Maryland, umm… Michigan for a little bit. Everywhere basically.”

Everywhere and nowhere.

“Why?” Henry seems genuinely curious, and there is a need for escape that makes him want to know about places outside of Derry. To know there’s a world beyond the town he’s trapped in.

“My dad’s in the army. We moved like every year.”

Henry regards him somberly, which seems strange to Vic because what he said didn’t seem particularly sad or anything. Moving is just what army families do.

But Henry is starting to realize that moving to a new place isn’t always an escape. Sometimes you can go everywhere in the world and still be trapped.

“My dad was in the marines,” Henry finally says, absently chewing on his thumb nail again.

And Vic starts to understand.

So they don’t talk about their bruises or their fathers, because the two subjects are essentially indivisible. But they find other things to talk about. Comic books, video games, movies, people at school they don’t like, some new trouble Henry got in, and the list goes on. And sometimes they don’t have to talk at all, they just like being around each other.

In the mornings Henry has started lifting his head from the desk when Vic would come to class, not as a proper greeting but just as a way of acknowledging his presence. If Gretta was being particularly annoying in Homeroom, and Gretta hates the both of them now, the boys give each other sneering side glances and roll their eyes. Vic would let Henry copy his answers, and they would get matching C-’s. If Ms. Donovan has caught on, she doesn’t do anything about it, because she’s just glad that there is some semblance of peace in the back of the classroom.

After a week had gone by, Vic walked into third period and went to sit down in his usual spot by the door. And then suddenly Henry was beside him.

“Vic.”

A thrilling shiver goes up his spine, but not the bad kind like when Vic hears Daddy’s voice down the hall. Something about hearing anybody say his name, especially Henry, sends a warm tingle through him like an electric current.

“Yeah?” He says, barely audible.

Henry just cocks his head to one side to gesture to the back of the class where he usually sits, and Vic follows him over.

And now they sit together in every class they share.

It took Vic a few days to realize that Henry doesn’t bring any lunch to school.

Vic pulls the paper bag out of his backpack, knowing that the tight knot in his gut is keeping his appetite at bay.

“Do you want some?” He gets up the nerve to say.

Because sometimes Henry is defensive about certain things and Vic doesn’t want to make him upset.

“No.” Henry says with a glare. So this is one of those things that set him off.

“I’m not gonna eat all of it, really.” Vic presses just a bit, cautious but well-meaning.

A few moments of silence pass, but finally Henry does take half the sandwich offered to him, and Vic decides to eat the other half to try and make Henry more comfortable.

As stubborn as he was before, Henry tears into the sandwich like he’s absolutely starving. And being around Henry eating makes it a little easier for Vic to swallow down a few bites.

Days later, they sit down and Henry pulls a lunch bag out of nowhere.

“Where’d you get that?” Vic asks, because he doesn’t believe for a second that Henry brought it from home.

“Don’t worry about it” Henry says as he rips it open, revealing a PB&J sandwich, a pack of Oreos, a bag of chips, and a half-dozen pixie sticks. “Fat-ass doesn’t need it anyway.”

And Vic does feel a twinge of guilt, but as Henry digs in Vic is reminded that he doesn’t get enough to eat as it is. One stolen lunch can’t hurt.

Despite his ravenous hunger, Henry makes Vic split all the junk food with him. And even though he didn’t think he was hungry, Vic feels marginally better after eating and doesn’t even get a stomach ache from all the sugar.

So Vic makes sure Henry has food to eat, and Henry makes sure Vic eats the food he has. And they don’t say it in so many words but that’s how they take care of each other.

Some people start to notice the two of them leashed to each other, but mostly it’s kids in their grade that know to stay away from Henry Bowers, so Vic doesn’t hear anything about it. The only person who really took issue with the situation was Vic’s sister.

A week ago Daphne pulled him aside while they were waiting for Mom to pick them.

”Who’s that boy you were with all day?” She asks with whispered malice.

He is frozen for a minute, because Daphne hasn’t spoken to him, at school or home, for weeks.

“Um- He’s just somebody I know from class.”

Vic doesn’t want to jinx things by calling Henry his friend yet, because he’s hasn’t really had one before and definitely never one that was another boy, so he doesn’t want to ruin it now.

Daphne gives him an accusing look, and Vic feels his resentment rise.

“You get to hang out with people,” He reminds her.

Daphne already has a bunch of other girls to sit with at lunch. Lucy has her friends come over after school sometimes. Sophie is on the phone with boys when she thinks no one is around. So why can’t Vic have one person to talk to?

“I heard that he steals stuff and beats up little kids for fun.” She accuses.

“Those are rumors.” Vic tries to shrug it off, even though he has heard those same rumors float around the halls.

“If Daddy finds out then-” She half-warns half-threatens.

“You’re not gonna tell him.” Vic cuts her off with a biting tone.

For a second she looks mad enough that she would, because Vic doesn’t ever stand up to her and she wants to assert her older-sibling authority. His resolve cracks a little at the thought.

“Daph, please don’t tell?” He tries to appease her. “We’re not doing anything wrong, Henry’s just someone from class.”

And finally she seems to relent, because she sees the marks on her (Sister’s? Brother’s? She doesn’t know what to think anymore) skin from his last run in with Daddy a few nights ago. Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t say anything about this after all. And if anyone finds out, she can just feign innocence to knowing about it.

“Fine.”

“Thanks,” Vic says, but Daphne has already turned away from him and is walking towards Mom’s car as it pulls up.

And so Daphne kept quiet about him and Henry, but she occasionally shoots him a concerned look from across the hall when she sees them together.

With the gauze on, Henry has an easier time getting through the rest of the day. It still seems like it hurts, but now he can walk a little faster and the ankle doesn’t roll when he has to put weight on it. In sixth period Vic reminds him to unwrap it to before bed and prop his leg up for the night. Then they part ways, Henry walks around behind the school and through the woods to get home, and Vic goes to wait for his mother.

The night passes without incident.

The next morning is Friday, and as Mom drives them to school she lets them know she has some errands to run this afternoon, so the kids have to walk home. Mom gives Sophie the spare key, and while the girls complain about the inconvenience (it’s not even that far of a walk, jeez) Vic sort of looks forward to not having to ride home with his sisters.

But when Vic walks into Homeroom, Henry’s not at his desk. Henry isn’t here at all. For a moment Vic just stands looking at their desks, feeling lost and overexposed as he sits down alone. His mind swings between two extremes for explanation. One terrifying possibility: Henry finally got sick of Vic following him like a shadow and maybe somehow figured out that Vic’s not normal and is so disgusted that won’t even show up to school. Or equally possible and but more terrifying: Henry was hurt so awfully bad that he couldn’t even come to school, because the worst beatings Vic gets every few weeks are what Henry gets everyday, so what happens if his skull cracks or his neck brakes or his lung is punctured and no one’s around to help him?

Vic drops his head to the desk, breathing heavy pants into his palms and trying to fight back the budding anxiety attack. Henry had a sprained ankle yesterday, so if his dad came after him, he wouldn’t be able to get away.

Then Henry appears in the doorway, hanging on the door jam and leaning into his right side. For a second he just stands there, and Vic wonders if he is really there, or if this is some anxiety driven hallucination. But Henry starts stumbling forward, looking like every step hurts him all over, and arms wrapped around his middle protectively and sliding across the wall to get to his desk. It takes him a long time to finally sit down, and the other kids around try not to gawk at him too conspicuously. One girl looks at his cringing, quaking form for a second to long and Henry growls at her.

Vic wants to jump up, help Henry sit down and check him over. Because whatever is wrong isn’t immediately visible, but is looks absolutely excruciating. But Vic is frozen because Henry looks feral, spine rigid, shoulders hunched, and the anger in his hooded eyes is burning like an inferno. Vic feels a mix of pain and sorrow and empathy, but also fear. Henry looks like a puppy that survived a dog fight, but came out wounded and ready to snap his jaws and bite.

Finally, after eons of painful staggering, Henry collapses into his seat and curls so far into himself that he almost disappears. The teacher doesn’t even look twice.

“Henry?” Vic whispers, lying his head on his desk to get closer to Henry’s level.

The boy doesn’t respond, but when Vic gets real close he can hear the wheezing shallow breaths Henry sucks in and heaves out. Vic reaches out as gently and slowly as he can and brushes the tips of his fingers over Henry’s shoulder blade, and Henry flinches and trembles violently at the contact, but he has no physical power to make the touch stop. Pulling his hand away quickly, Vic feels his stomach drop and his eyes prickle.

Both boys spend the class with their heads down. Vic tries to whisper to Henry every few minutes, but never gets a response. Henry just sinks further into himself.

By third period Henry still won’t talk, he doesn’t even move when the bell for lunch rings. So Vic takes the initiative to, as cautiously as he can, grab onto the sleeve of Henry’s sweatshirt and guide Henry up and out of the classroom. He sticks to a slow pace and they take frequent pauses so Henry can choke down some air, but they eventually make it to their spot. They sit down onto the cold grass as softly as possible, but Henry still winces.

The angry inferno in Henry’s eyes is dead now, just smoldering embers are left. Vic plants himself in front him, because as scared and anxious as he is, he resolves to help Henry through the pain.

“Henry, what happened? Where does it hurt?” Vic is still whispering even though they are far away from anybody else.

Henry makes a low, whining sound in the back of his throat before finally finding his voice.

“It’s nothing” He slurs softly, eyes drifting shut.

“No it’s not,” Vic says with a little too much force.

It’s not nothing. It’s never nothing. And it’s not fair, and it’s not right, that they always have to pretend it's nothing.

Henry flinches back but offers nothing else. He’s still holding his stomach, hunched over with arms crossed tight over his midsection.

Reaching over, Vic gently but firmly tugs Henry’s arms away and tries to pull up his shirt.

“Stop,” Henry rasps, tightening his arms.

But Vic keeps at it, more assertive this time.

“Stop it,” Henry bares his teeth and says a little louder.

Vic is undeterred, pushing him back aggressively to see what Henry’s trying to protect.

“Stop!” Henry screams this time, and in an instant swings up his arm and clocks Vic in the jaw with the side of his fist.

The impact hurts and it takes Vic back for a second, but instead of freezing and crumbling like when Daddy hits him, he feels a fire light in his veins. Vic pushes Henry onto his back, even as Henry throws more blows and tries to shove him away, so Vic pins his fists to the ground. Henry is undeniable bigger and stronger than Vic, but the pain he’s in makes him malleable to the hold.

Then the fight just drops out of Henry like he’s died on the spot. For a second Vic thinks the boy has passed out, but his eyes are open and moving. It just seems like Henry has left his body and his mind is off floating somewhere else.

The sight is unnerving but Vic pushes through and finally gets a look under Henry’s shirt.

Across the whole right side of his chest and ribs is a field of black and blue, and instead of swollen, the area looks sunken in on itself. Vic studies the injury, thinking through his mental catalogue of all the marks he’s seen on Henry. Punches leave dark round Dalmatian spots, impacts (like against the wall or to the ground) leave oblong marks on skin raised by bone that fade out. No this looks like Henry was already on the ground, curled into his side, as kick after kick after kick was laid into his ribs. Until they cracked. Until something broke. Until the bent bones pressed into his lung and made it difficult to breath.

Until Henry had to give in to the pain and float off from his body, like he’s doing now.

“Henry can you hear me?” Vic tries to bring him back.

He’s still limp and unmoving, but after a second his eyes focus again and he looks up at Vic. And then tears just start to overflow from his eyes.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Vic says softly, fingers running across the rib cage until he feels the one that dents inwards.

The tears are really coming now, in big fat streams that map out the curves of Henry’s face.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Vic says again, pulling his hands off Henry’s ribs.

Henry can’t gather the air necessary to sob, so he just keeps sputtering and choking until his face turns red.

So Vic leans down and cages his arms around Henry’s head, blocking out the sound and light around him, intending on helping him breath threw the panic. But instead Henry reaches up, latches digging fingers into Vic’s sides, drags him down and screams into his chest.

Tears soak into his shirt as Henry cries against him. For once Henry is feeling so overwhelmed but also just safe enough to let it out. The screaming continues, muffled enough by their closeness to not draw any attention, but the anger and the shame and the pain is still in every strain of his vocal cords. Vic just stays still, letting Henry hold on as tight as he needs despite the jabbing fingers in his sides.

The bell rings for fourth period and Vic just ignores it.

Finally the convulsions and screams die down, and Henry only stutters out a few sobs like a dying engine. Henry drops his arms and Vic slowly peels himself back from over the crying boy.

“Henr-” Vic starts, not having a real direction for his thoughts.

“I’m fine,” Henry says, or tries to say through hiccupping breaths, and he slowly sits up and winces in pain.

He’s wiping his eyes, shoulders hunched in and trying to put distance between him and Vic.

“Shut up,” Henry snaps, despite the fact Vic hasn’t said anything.

After a moment of averting eyes from each other and sitting in silence, Vic at last finds his voice again.

“Do you…” Vic pauses when Henry levels a dark glare at him, “…wanna stay at my house tonight?”

And Henry sits speechless for a moment, unbelieving and skeptical, but he nods slowly anyway.

Hours later, the walk home from school is slow and painful but Henry doesn’t complain about the ache. By the time they get to Vic’s house the girls have been home for a while, Daphne and Sophie upstairs, and Lucy already left to go hang out with friends. They don’t seem to care that Vic didn’t get home as promptly as they did, but at least they left the door unlocked for him.

Vic makes sure the ground floor is all empty as they come in, and then he leads Henry over to the couch and makes him sit. Henry is breathing through the pain, but the tears have stopped and he seems less tense than he was the whole day.

With Henry settled, Vic goes to the kitchen and fills a plastic bag with ice and comes back to the living room. Making him lie against the arm of the couch, Vic sets the ice as gently as he can against Henry’s side.

The two sit in silence for a while, letting the ice numb Henry’s side, and then Vic turns on the T.V. and flips through channels until he finds some action movie playing. Despite the explosions and gun shots coming through the T.V., a calm spell is cast across the room.

Henry is struck by how quiet it is, how safe he feels despite the pain and uncertainty. He reaches over and grabs Vic’s wrist, weaker than he does when pulling him around school, and just holds in the space between them. Vic doesn’t make a move towards or away, because he’s realizing that this is the only kind of contact Henry is comfortable with. And maybe Vic likes it too.

The movie ends and another starts up, so they just let it run and watch passively. Vic thanks God for when his sister’s don’t come downstairs all afternoon. They both start to sag from exhaustion, the day being both emotionally and physically straining, and they are almost dozing when Vic’s mother comes through the door.

“Oh!” She says in surprise, waking the boys fully.

Henry immediately drops his hold on Vic’s arm and tries to sit up, looking ready to bolt like a frightened animal.

For a moment Mom just stares at them, unbelieving that she somehow now has two boys in her home when a short time ago she had none.

“Hey Mom…” Vic tries to act normal, because they can’t just stare at each other like they can make the other disappear, “This, um… this is Henry. We have class together.”

And then they snap back to normal, or well, Henry drops his head to look at the floor, Vic sinks into himself, and Mom looks overwhelmed but willing to pretend like that everything is fine.

“A-alright. So were you doing homework together…?” She tries to justify to herself.

“Yeah,” Vic answers too quickly, because Henry’s never done homework in his life and they skipped two classes today so they could sit together outside.

“Mhmm,” Mom says, clearly not believing her own excuse, but not willing or able to start an argument about the real situation. She starts to walk towards the kitchen. “Henry, would you like to stay for dinner?”

Henry looks really uncomfortable with being spoke to, and he looks over to Vic in panic.

“Okay?” He says quietly.

So Mom goes into the kitchen without acknowledging Henry’s response, and after a second Vic follows her in.

“What are you doing!?!” she hisses at him in a hushed voice when they’re alone.

Vic is already prepared to counter.

“They have friends over all the time,” he whispers back, gesturing upstairs in reference to his sisters.

“This is different Victo-”

“Shhh!” Vic hushes her before she can say it.

Mom looks angry and tired and high-strung all at once, but her resolve is starting to crumble. Maybe the best thing to do is just tell the truth, because he’s tired of making up excuses.

“Mom, Henry…got hurt really bad,” He hopes she catches the meaning in his eyes. “He can’t go home right now.”

A film of shame overtakes her eyes, because she understands the intent and why Vic wants to help the other boy. Because no one is helping him.

“Your father can’t know.” She finally says in concession.

“I know.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

And then the conversation is over. Vic goes back to the living room and sits beside Henry, who looks unsure and awkward all alone. As Mom makes dinner, Vic brushes the back of his hand against Henry’s as a silent reassurance, because with someone else around Henry won’t grab his wrist.

They get called in for dinner, as if Vic has ever been called to dinner in the last three months, and he and Henry stand and set aside the half melted ice pack. Henry silently refuses to let Vic help him to the kitchen, and his side must be numb by now because his steps are stiff but look less pained than before. Though when they sit at the table he does stutter out the smallest of strained gasps.

Mom dishes up their plates like she’s June fucking Cleaver, like she always does when company is over and she has to revert to a perfectly nice housewife. Sophie and Daphne come down and look at the boys at the table in surprise, but Mom gives them a warning look to stay quiet about it. Vic is content to ignore their probing glances so Henry follows suit. So all the kids sit in silence and eat. Henry seems to be holding himself back, because he’s picking at his food slowly but Vic knows he hasn’t had anything to eat all day. Or maybe eating with a cracked rib is more uncomfortable than hunger. Vic is eating at just the same slow pace, despite also not eating lunch today, until Henry gives him just the barest of looks and gestures to the food. So he starts eating a little faster just because Henry is concerned enough about him. And after a concerned look back, Henry obeys and eats a bit more off his plate.

But then Mom breaks their silent conversation.

“So Henry, have I met your mother yet? Is she in the PTA?” Mom says from the counter, where she’s not eating, just standing there and hovering.

Henry freezes and his shoulders stiffen.

“No.” He says quietly, unclear to which half of the question he is answering.

Vic shoots a glare at his mother. Like you even go to PTA meetings, don’t even pretend. But then he is slightly more distressed by Henry’s hand quivering as he stabs another bite.

“Oh. Well, what does your father do?” She keeps probing, like someone would poke at a bear in a cage.

Henry just sets the fork down before he can get it to his mouth, head dropping towards his lap.

Vic wants to throw his plate at his mother as hard as he can.

“My dad’s a cop.” Henry says with a shrug, and that brief description doesn’t say a thing about what his father does.

“Hmm.” Mom makes one of those conversation ending noises again.

If only the conversation hadn’t started at all.

Neither boy is interested in eating anymore.

“Mom, can we be excused?” Vic asks, hiding his disdain behind the facade of table manners.

She doesn’t really seem to care, responding with a wave of her hand as she tidies up the kitchen.

They leave their plates on the table but can’t get out of the room before Mom prods one more time.

“Do you need a ride home Henry?” She says, like she’s forgotten what Vic had told her earlier.

“No ma’am,” Henry says, standing behind Vic and trying to disappear into the wall. “I can walk.”

Coming back into the living room, Vic can feel Henry’s discomfort emanating off him, and he can hear his mom and sisters whispering to each other. Probably talking about them. Henry’s leaning into his side again as he grabs his backpack and goes towards the door. Vic reaches out and grabs his sleeve to stop him.

“Don’t I have to go?” Henry asks quietly, voice quivering just slightly like he’s on the edge of another breakdown.

Vic shakes his head, and motions for Henry to be silent. Grabbing both their backpacks, he leads Henry to the spare room down the hall. Setting their stuff down, Vic goes back into the living room and grabs some extra cushions and the throw blankets off the couch.

As he lays the cushions down Henry looks on confused. And Vic doesn’t really know what he’s doing either, because he’s never had a sleepover, and Henry doesn’t seem like he’s ever been to one, but this one is less about fun and more about safety.

The lie down in the quiet room, Henry’s just relieved that he can take the weight off his side and Vic is glad they are alone again. Henry pulls over his backpack and reveals that instead of textbooks Henry just brings a stack of comic books to school, so they spend a few hours switching issues back and forth and just enjoy being near each other in the small room.

The sun sets and the room is still warm from the last rays of sunlight. The dark, the quiet, the heat, the feeling of food in their stomachs, the safety they feel isolated off from the world, the comfort they get from each other, all finally outweigh the heavier traumas that they live with and both boys fall asleep.

They wake with a jolt about an hour later, because the front door opens loudly and heavy footsteps are coming towards the room and-

It’s okay, it’s just Daddy getting home.

Henry seems petrified still, but Vic slowly crawls over to the door and peeks under the gap between the door and the carpet. He watches his father’s shadow move across the floor, coming closer to the spare room before going up the stairs.

Vic gives Henry a relieved nod and they both relax and let out the breaths they’d been holding. Settling back down into their nest of blankets and cushions, it takes a little longer to get back into that peaceful headspace they had before, but finally they do fall back into that heavy dreamless sleep, lulled by the slowing beats of their hearts and the steady rhythm of each other’s breathing.

Woken at dawn by the front door opening and closing again as Daddy goes to work, Vic blinks slowly and it takes him a second to realize that Henry is awake too, and looking back at him. They just watch each other, all the internal walls down and insides vulnerable.

Henry reaches over in their trance, only an arm’s length away from Vic, and with only the slightest tremble and hesitation, he grabs Vic’s hand and laces their finger’s together. This isn’t a tight grip on a wrist, or a tugging hold on sweatshirt sleeve, this is real flesh to flesh hand holding. Henry squeezes just enough that Vic knows that this means thank you, but the affection is kind of overwhelming for both of them so they swiftly let go and pretend it didn’t happen.

Awake now, they sit up and Henry rolls form one hip to the other to test the pain in his ribs.

“How’s it feel?” Vic asks, wanting to feel the soft spot to check it over.

“Better,” Henry confirms honestly after a moment, so Vic resists his urge to touch.

They make their way into the dim living room, picking up the cushions and blankets and resetting them on the couch. Vic makes them bowls of cereal and they eat on the living room floor while watching Saturday morning cartoons. They don’t talk and the T.V. volume is on low, so not to wake anyone else in the house.

After a while they start to hear stirring upstairs. Henry checks the clock on the wall and confirms that his dad’s at work by now so he can go home. Vic wants to tell him to stay, but knows that he’s pushing his luck with Mom already.

So Henry grabs his bag and Vic walks with him to the front porch. The early spring morning is cold but the sun is shining bright in the blue sky. Henry steps out onto the porch and they give each other just the briefest of glances as he leaves, walking through the yard and down the side walk without looking back.

Vic watches him go from the door way, noticing that his steps still seem stilted but looks like he’s only in a moderate amount of pain compared to yesterday. Then he closes the door and wonders how he’s going to pretend everything is back to normal by Monday.

Notes: Link to AO3   http://archiveofourown.org/works/12399036/chapters/28570732

Me: I won't write an extra long chapter again.

Me to me: Add more stuff, make it even more gay.

So I know I said this was a slow burn but aren't they already the cutest little boyfriends ever!?!

Also if you haven't seen the video of logan thompson dancing to rihanna you are not living. look it up.

Required fanny pack reference: check (this fandom is so weird. i love it)

I hope I didn't keep ya'll waiting to long on this one, and I hope you like it. <3 <3 Pleaseessses leave me comments i live off them. it makes me so happy to hear from you guys. tell me what you think, tell me bout your day, tell me bout your it headcanons, call my mom a whore, literally anything. i love you all.

XOXO

YDFH