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heartandsoulcomic · 6 years ago

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Breaking Point

Another short story I wrote in the Heart and SOUL Undertale AU. It takes place about two years before the events of Part One. While the events are canon to Heart and SOUL, there is no need to read it to understand the story of the comic. :)

The car ride home from the hospital was horribly quiet. Absent were the usual jokes from Sans and the laughing admonishments from Toriel that she was trying to concentrate on the road. Even when they crossed the intersection of Banger and Leaver, the only sounds in the vehicle were the occasional sniffles from the backseat, quickly followed by soft murmurs of sympathy and encouragement from Frisk.

Sans twisted against his seatbelt to check on the backseat’s occupants. In the fading evening light he could just make out the small figure of his daughter curled up against Frisk, their arm around her shoulders. Easier to see was the bright white of the new cast on her broken arm, resting on her lap and carefully cushioned by Frisk’s folded jacket.

“you doin’ alright back there, babybones?” Sarafina did not look up at his question, but nodded, rumpling her ear against Frisk’s side, turning it inside-out. Frisk gently fixed Sarafina’s fluffy ear and shot Sans a reassuring half smile. The smile faded into worry as Frisk’s gaze traveled to Toriel, who sat ramrod straight, eyes focused unerringly on the road, jaw tightly clenched.

Sans turned back in his seat with a quiet sigh, and let the uneasy silence fill the car again.

Toriel slammed the front door of their home open, and held it for the rest of the family as they silently filed in past her. Before she could slam it closed again, Frisk delicately nudged her aside and closed it with a quiet click, saving the door frame from further abuse.

Toriel rounded on her daughter as Sarafina stood in the hallway, eyes cast down and ears pressed flat against her head, waiting for her mother’s sentencing.

“Sarafina, go to your room and stay there.” Toriel’s voice was absolutely flat, just barely holding back the anger flashing in her eyes.

“Yes, Mama,” Sarafina answered softly, still only using the same two words she had been repeating the entire afternoon.

Toriel’s nostrils flared, her breathing was slightly uneven. “You are grounded until further notice; I will bring your dinner up later, and you will take the antibiotics the doctor prescribed with the food and without complaint.”

“Yes, Mama.” She still did not look up.

Sans stood just behind Sarafina, his hand resting lightly on his child’s uninjured shoulder. He glanced uneasily between mother and daughter before speaking up hesitantly. “tori, i think – ”

Toriel’s head snapped up. “What Sans? You think WHAT?” Her normally ruby-red eyes had darkened until the color resembled banked coals -- coals ready to flare up into a raging fire at any moment.

Sans’ nerve broke. “i, uh, i think i'll go see if the rest of the prescriptions are ready…”

“Fine. Do so.” Toriel closed her eyes and tried to take a steadying breath. She opened her eyes just in time to see Sans leaning down and muttering something into Sarafina’s ear before giving her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze and teleporting away, leaving Sarafina with a tiny conspiratorial smile.

The smile died quickly as Toriel turned her glare back on her child. Sans had most likely just promised to bring back some of Sarafina’s favorite candies – those blasted caramels that always left a sticky mess in her fur.

Toriel whipped her arm out and pointed up the stairs. “MARCH, young lady.” Sarafina hunched up with a nod, and slowly made her way to her room, head down, eyes trained on the floor.

Toriel watched until Sarafina turned the corner to her room, then stomped her way into the kitchen. Her ears twitched as she heard Frisk’s light footsteps following. With angry, jerky motions, Toriel pulled pans down from the cupboards and ingredients from the refrigerator, trying to ignore the human behind her. She could feel Frisk’s eyes on her as she worked.

Frisk waited patiently for a few moments, but finally grew tired of Toriel’s stubborn refusal to acknowledge them. “Mom.”

Toriel answered with a growl. “Not now.” She slammed a carton of eggs down onto the counter, cracking most of them in the process. With an unladylike curse, she shook the mess from her hands as Frisk continued.

“We need to talk.” Frisk’s voice was soft, but the tone left no room for argument.

Toriel tried anyway. She whipped around to face Frisk with a snarl, heat radiating off of her in angry waves. “This is NOT a good time.”

Frisk leaned in the doorway, arms loosely crossed, completely unruffled by her show of temper.

Frisk nodded, almost to themself. “I know. But I don’t think there ever will be a good time for this. You’re not really angry at her for hurting herself, are you?” It was more of a statement than a question.

Toriel’s stretched and frayed nerves finally snapped. “Of course not! I am angry because she attempted to conceal a broken arm! I am angry because all afternoon she was doing more and more damage to herself with every breath! I am angry because she could have – ”

Toriel choked on the words. Sarafina could have lost mobility in her fingers permanently if the sharp edge of the break had damaged the tendons any further. She had been bleeding internally, and infection had already set into her arm by the time the doctor had seen Sarafina. Her baby had been hurt, in pain and danger for hours…

Toriel’s voice was shaking with emotion as she continued. “If she had come to me, to Sans, to ANY monster immediately, the break could have been healed in moments! Instead, she tries to hide the fact she fell from that thrice-damned tree she is always climbing!” Toriel gritted her teeth and growled. “It will NOT happen again; Sarafina is forbidden from climbing anything from now on – ”

“And that’s why she didn’t tell you.”

Frisk’s wholly calm interruption to her tirade brought Toriel up short. “What?”

Frisk let out a tired sigh. “Sarafina knew that if you found out she’d hurt herself while climbing, you’d ban her from doing it anymore.”

Toriel snorted and waved a hand dismissively. “Well of course I would stop her from doing something dangerous – ”

But Frisk wasn’t done. They raised their voice over her protest. “Just like you ended the self-defense lessons with Undyne. And the scouting lessons after school. And the open-ocean swimming lessons. And the summer day camp, the hiking trips with M.K., the bug-hunting trips with Asgore.”

Toriel stared at Frisk, her objections dying away as the list of things she had taken from her daughter stretched on.

“You wouldn’t sign her permission slip for the overnight stay at the planetarium. You won’t let her go with Alphys to Comic Con. You won’t let her walk back from school with her friends.”

Dread was starting to creep over Toriel. “I – ”

Frisk again ignored the interruption. They began pacing around the kitchen, some of their frustration finally starting to show. “Anything and everything you think even MIGHT have some sort of risk, you forbid her from doing. Her world has been getting smaller and smaller. Last week you even stopped letting her help Papyrus with his volunteer and charity work.”

Frisk’s restless movement came to a halt directly in front of Toriel. “Papyrus would never take her somewhere dangerous, and he would snap a rib from his chest before he let anything happen to his niece. You know that.”

Toriel wanted to object, to shout at Frisk that she couldn’t have been denying Sarafina so much, so unreasonably… but she couldn’t form the words. Memories of Sarafina’s little face going from excited to disappointed and resigned over and over flashed through her mind’s eye as she realized Frisk’s list of forbidden activities was nowhere close to complete.

Toriel swallowed around a lump forming in her throat. “Have… have I really been behaving so harshly?”

Frisk nodded, their expression turning sympathetic. “Yes… I know you worry about her… about both of us, but it’s been getting pretty bad lately, Mom. And I think I know why…”

Frisk trailed off, hesitating, then locked gazes with Toriel and plunged ahead. “Sarafina is turning eight this year. The age Asriel died.”

For a moment, Toriel simply couldn’t process the words; it was as if Frisk had suddenly started speaking a different language. But as confusion morphed into comprehension, the last of the burning anger she had used as a shield from the horrors of the day drained away, leaving her cold, empty… and terrified.

Toriel slumped back against the counter, covering her mouth with one hand and folding her other arm over her stomach, trying to control the tremors suddenly racing through her body. She felt Frisk gently grip her shoulder, and she dropped her own trembling hand over it, desperate for an anchor in a sea of sudden emotion. She heard Frisk’s voice, sympathy and fierce determination cutting through the low roaring in her ears. “This isn’t the Underground. She isn’t Asriel. She’s going to be okay. She’s going to live to see her ninth birthday, and so many more after it. I promise.”

Toriel’s breath came in short, broken sobs, but she nodded, trying to let Frisk know she heard them, she was listening. Frisk waited as she fought to bring her breathing back under control, still holding her, her hand over theirs in a near-bruising grip.

When she was finally able to look back at Frisk, they reached out and brushed the tears from their adopted mother’s cheeks. Frisk didn’t want to add to her pain, but more needed to be said. “Mom… Sarafina is so much stronger than you think. I really, truly believe she’ll grow up to be as fierce as a lion – but only if you let her. If things keep going the way they are, you’re going to either teach her to be afraid of taking any risks at all… or teach her that she can’t come to you for help if the risks she does take get her into trouble.”

Toriel let out a slow, shuddering sigh. “Such as if she breaks her arm while climbing her favorite tree.”

“Yeah. Just like that.”

Toriel rubbed at her red-rimmed eyes. “And I am guessing whenever someone attempted to speak with me about my behavior I would bite their heads off… just as I did to you and Sans.”

Guilt threaded through her chest as she thought back to the scene in the hall. “I know how hard it can be for Sans to talk about how he feels… yet I still just shut him down as hard as I could the moment he attempted to speak with me about my behavior toward our child… no wonder he fled.”

Frisk smiled crookedly. “Well, to be fair, today wasn’t great timing on our part…”

She shook her head, about to tell Frisk that they had been correct, that there was no real ‘right time’ for such a conversation, but Frisk’s next words shocked her into silence. “And, well, it’s not like it’s really my place to tell you how to raise her… but I had to say something…”

Frisk’s calm demeanor started to fall way, and Toriel finally saw the anxiety that they must had been hiding from her for far too long, and not just worry over Sarafina…

Toriel moved forward and pulled Frisk into a fierce embrace with a sigh. “Oh, my child… I am so sorry. It seems I have failed you all today…”

She leaned back and cupped Frisk’s face in her hands, gently making them meet her eyes. Toriel put as much conviction into her voice as she could as she spoke. “Family is not by blood alone. Sarafina is your sister. I know you love her just as much as Sans and I. Never think it is not your place to voice concern for her. Even from me.”

Frisk gave her a tremulous smile, blinking back tears. “Yeah, Mom. I know.”

“I wish you to know with your heart as well as your head, love.” She kissed them on their forehead, and a different pain pinged through her chest as she realized she no longer had to lean down to do so. Her children were growing so quickly…

Toriel closed her eyes and took a moment to breathe and reground herself before turning to the kitchen counter and sighing over the mess. “Now, then; emotional revelations aside, we still need dinner, and I do not think enough of the eggs survived my sterling example of level-headed patience to make a quiche.”

She smiled slightly at Frisk’s snort of laughter and reached for the phone. “Could you please call Sans and ask him to pick something up?”

Frisk quirked an eyebrow at her as they took the handset. “And let him know it’s safe to come back?”

Toriel felt her cheeks heat up and she cleared her throat. “Ah, yes. I will apologize to him when he returns… but first, I must speak with your sister.”

---------------------

Sarafina sat curled up at the head of her small racecar bed, a marker in her uninjured hand and a look of stubborn concentration on her face. The only sound in the room was a tiny repetitive scratching of the marker over her cast as she drew the bones beneath it. Radius, ulna, carpals, metacarpals; she was thoroughly familiar with them – she saw them every day on Sans after all.

With a slightly savage motion, Sarafina slashed a thick line across the inexpertly rendered bones, directly above the break in her own arm that still ached horribly despite the painkillers – and the tip of the marker gave way to the rough treatment, snapping off under her hand.

Tears filled her eyes as she stared at the ruined marker; she had broken it just as she had broken her arm, she hadn’t been careful enough, she was never careful enough, she always managed to do something wrong –

And that’s how Toriel found her, curled up on her bed, silently weeping over her broken arm, trying and failing to fix the marker one-handed.

Toriel’s heart broke at the sight. “Oh, Sarafina…”

Sarafina jumped at her mother’s voice and the pieces of Toriel’s heart shuttered and shrank in on themselves as Sarafina jerked upright to look at her with anxious, tear-filled eyes. “Mama… I-I’m so s-sorry, I d-didn’t mean to fall—”

Toriel rushed to the bed and lifted an astonished Sarafina into a gentle hug. “Oh, baby, no. No. I am sorry.”

She gathered her daughter in her arms and sat on the bed, carefully wiping the tears from Sarafina’s face. “I was not angry at you because you had an accident, I was angry because you did not tell me. I was angry at myself for letting it happen. I-I was scared for you, baby… I was terrified, and I overreacted.”

Toriel let out a long, tired sigh. “But it does not excuse my behavior.”

She brushed soft fur back from Sarafina’s eyes. “An apology means nothing if the behavior is not altered. I will do my best to change it, but it is not easy for me. Please, will you be patient with me while I try?”

Sarafina blinked up at her mother; she didn’t quite understand all of what Toriel was telling her, but she nodded, both relieved that she was not in trouble, and surprised at the apology.

Toriel kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

She reached down and gently tapped a claw on the cast over Sarafina’s arm. “That being said, I never want a repeat of what happened today.”

Sarafina’s heart sank, and she dropped her gaze. She had been dreading this all afternoon; her mother forbidding her from climbing ever again –

“So you will be taking climbing lessons at the recreation center with Frisk as soon as the doctor says your arm is strong enough for it.”

Sarafina’s eyes shot back up to Toriel; she couldn’t have heard that right. “I’m… what?”

“You need to know how to climb – and fall – properly.” Toriel’s face was serious. “Frisk has been rock climbing for years, and I trust them to choose a good instructor for you – to whom you will pay strict attention. You will follow their instructions and learn the ins and outs of climbing safely and the equipment needed to do so. Is that clear?”

For a heartbeat, Sarafina just stared at her mother, then broke into a huge smile. “I – yes, Mama!”

Sarafina threw her uninjured arm around Toriel’s neck. “Oh, thank you! I promise I’ll be the best student ever!”

Toriel gave her another kiss. “I am certain you will be.”

She stood, and started toward the door, carrying Sarafina with her. “Your father should be back shortly with dinner; we should set the table.”

“I’m… not grounded?” Sarafina asked hesitantly.

“No, baby – as I said, I overreacted.” Toriel let out a slightly irritated snort. “And I believe Sans promised to bring you those caramels you like to make up for it somewhat, yes?”

“Um…” Sarafina obviously didn’t want to get her father into trouble, but Toriel just sighed.

“You may have a few, but only after dinner… and do share them with Frisk. They could use a treat as well.”

Sarafina perked up again. “Okay!” she agreed happily.

Toriel smiled as Sarafina started chattering excitedly as they headed downstairs to the kitchen. “And I really mean it Mama; I’ll be the best climbing student at the whole center! I’ll be climbing the advanced stuff in no time! You know that three-story rock wall? Just wait and see!”

Toriel nearly missed a step at that, but managed to regain her balance before she sent them both tumbling down the stairway. Sarafina, thankfully, did not notice, still chattering away about the different types of equipment at the rec center.

Oh, this was not going to be easy… but Frisk was right. She needed to step back and allow Sarafina room to grow.

Give her the chance Asriel and Chara never had.

Toriel touched the locket around her neck that she never took off; a gift from Sans given to her the day Sarafina was born. Each of the four golden hearts that linked together to form a clover held a photo of one of her children.

Two of the photos she replaced every year as her children grew.

Two of the photos would never change.

She would never see the kind of people her eldest children would have become.

But she would not allow that deep sorrow and fear to dictate what her youngest child could be.

By the time Toriel and Sarafina made their way back downstairs, Sans had already returned and Frisk was helping him set the food from Grillby’s out on the table.

With a small smile and hug for Sarafina, Toriel carried her children into the kitchen to join the rest of her family.

#undertale #undertale au #undertale story #undertale oc #sarafina #frisk #sans #toriel #sans x toriel #Soriel #soriel child #heart and soul #heart and SOUL extras

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reivenesque · 7 years ago

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

Tagged by the lovely @alyxhavok ❤️

Marred by Poison, Purged by Magic - Malec, hurt!Magnus, ensemble cast fic. Parabatai bond, friendship feels galore. Chapter 1 of 2.

Alec turned back from the sight and watched as Catarina’s magic weaved through the gaping wound, like a master seamstress, healing the jagged puncture in his lung and stitching up the muscles and tendons and reconnecting the arteries. It was absolutely spellbinding watching the way a master healer went about her craft; the intricate way in which she worked and navigated around the tiniest aspects of the human body. The way she could tell which artery and which vein and which blood vessel went where; the way she reconnected the tissues and nerves. Alec couldn’t look away from the way her fingers and her hands danced in mid-air like a puppeteer controlling the string of his puppet. It was so similar to Magnus and yet so different.

Catarina was precise in her movements where Magnus was elegant. Catarina had a meticulous sort of beauty to her gesticulation where Magnus almost danced in his. Catarina’s magic was ethereal whereas Magnus’s raged like burning embers.

Just Within Reach (but of so far away) - Malec, emotionally hurt!Magnus, post 2x12, featuring good boyfriend!Alec. Friendship feels fic. One-shot.

Magnus would never have asked for comfort but with Alexander, he didn’t have to. The only thing Alexander wanted in return was to feel needed, to know that he was wanted. He would have given Magnus everything, which is a reality Magnus found as touching as it was bittersweet. Sometimes, the darkness within him makes him wonder whether Alexander would still feel the same if he knew the real Magnus. The Magnus that was stripped of all the glitz and the glamour and the fancy words and the extravagance; the chipped and fragmented Magnus that cowered in the dark corner of his memory, naked and bare, hiding from pain and hurt and sadness; trying to cease to exist without actually dying. Would Alexander still love him then?

Parabatai Gone - Parabatai fic. Post 2x20. Background Malec. One-shot.

Jace died. Alec felt him being ripped out of his soul.

But…he’s looking at Jace and at Clary and Jace is alive but why does he still feel so empty? His parabatai rune is back but why does it feel so wrong? Why does it feel so incomplete? It was like something that had been broken and put back together, but the cracks would never truly be fixed. Their bond had been broken, and somehow it had been mended, but it hadn’t been truly healed. There were cracks in it that he could still feel; small cracks in fragile connection too tiny to be noticeable but Alec noticed. Alec noticed everything about the bond, even more so than Jace.

Cindereva [Skam] Chriseva, fairy tale AU, ensemble cast fic, slow burn, falling-in-love. On-going.

But the closer the figure came to her, the most details she started to notice, like the fact that it wasn’t the wolf emblem on his chest that was dripping blood, it was blood dripping from his chest; blood trickling down his hand hanging limply at his side and blood caking almost half of his face.

He came within ten feet of Eva’s breathless figure, tears prickling the back of her eyes and her words dead in her throat, unable to move or breathe or think. But his eyes were unseeing, he wasn’t even looking at her as he stepped closer and closer and closer.

Until he finally collapsed in an unmoving heap on the ground right at her feet.

Only then did Eva finally remember how to breathe.

Snapshots [Skam] Chriseva, Eva Kviig Mohn through the years. Post finale spite-fic. Forever bitter squad.

When Eva was eighteen, everything suddenly turned out too complicated. Chris wanted something more, more than she was willing to give, and Eva fell back into old habits, doing the same thing she always did when things got too hard: she ran. This time the path led her to Jonas’s door and his bed. But this was what she really wanted, right? Getting back on the right path, the path that included Jonas and their two kids and the white picket fence on their lawn and the big blue house that sat at the edge of the cobblestone path. Chris said he loved her and that he was ready to settle down with her even though she wasn’t, and as it turned out, Chris wasn’t ready either.

They came together but they left separately, but that was okay.

A Family We Chose For Ourselves [Skam] Chriseva, hurt!Chris, everyone worries about Chris, Chrishelm friendship, Noorhelm, ensemble cast fic, friendship feels fic. Lots and lots of hurt, lots and lots of comfort. Complete.

Eva is sitting by Chris’ bedside in the ICU room watching the rise and fall of his bruised and battered chest. William is on the other side bent over the mattress with his head resting on his crossed arms, reaching out to grasp Chris’ limp hand in a vice like grip, holding him close even in sleep. Eva really couldn’t blame him. Within the last few hours, he’s gone from being in London, thousands of kilometers away on a day that was supposed to be happy and merry, to being worried out of his mind over his missing best friend and the feeling of absolute helplessness after finding out that his worry wasn’t unfounded, if nothing else, it was probably a worse outcome than he could ever have imagine. Eva’s pretty sure he dropped absolute everything, sat on a place for hours without communication all while not knowing the status of his friend, how bad he was injured or if he was even alive. All while being gnawed at by the undoubtedly crippling feelings of guilt.

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap [Suicide Squad] hurt!Rick, ensemble cast fic. Multiple POV’s. Complete.

Sometimes he thinks of Chato Santana as an entirely separate entity.

They share the same past and childhood memories sure, maybe even the same interest and the same type of woman. But the difference is that Chato Santana was just a man, he was flesh and blood and bone and he bled red when they cut him. His blood flowed crimson when they shot him and Chato Santana died a long time ago. Long before his own blood started boiling under his skin. Long before he burned rival gang members alive. Long before he roasted those people in that prison yard and smelled the stench of their boiling organs from ten feet away as he laughed. Long before he murdered Chato Santana’s wife and kids with his raging fury in their home. Long before he came back to life as El Diablo, the demon.

Reaching the Breaking Point [Point Break 2015] Bodhi/Johnny, paralysed!Johnny. Falling in love, first kiss fic. Fic 2 of 2. (x)

They venture down to the seashore together and Bodhi can barely tear his gaze away from Johnny’s face; the almost wondrous expression he has on his face as he looked at the foamy water lapping the front wheels of his chair. It’s a gorgeous sight to behold but also bittersweet at the same time.

Bodhi thinks of the man who’d been so unafraid of the steep, rock-strewn drop on that snow covered mountain and the reverence in his voice when he said, ‘But it’s also perfect.’ He thinks of his utter fearlessness when he didn’t stop at the second cliff when everyone else had been too afraid. Roach had called him broken, but Bodhi thought that was the closest he’d seen Johnny come to being whole.

That’s definitely more than five though - can’t help it, I’m shameless. I love and am proud of all my fics 😎

Tagging the usual suspects if you want to/haven’t done it yet: @imyourliquor-youremypoison, @hikaru9 (since you’re a writer now too), @ganseysjane, @s-erendipitiness, @blj2007 @ladymatt @giishere @xoxoalterlove @gonnabreakhisheart @drakamena

#malec #chriseva #suicide squad #point break 2015 #shadowhunters #bodhi/johnny utah #rick flag #forever bitter squad #reiven fics #thanks for tagging me #tagged stuff #better question is #why the fuck do i have so many hurt magnus fics?#i need to write more alec to appease the stan in me

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lindafrancois · 6 years ago

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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/

0 notes

joshuabradleyn · 6 years ago

Text

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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!

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.

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

#5 Lessons learned from a skinny nerd deadlifting 420 pounds

0 notes

neilmillerne · 6 years ago