I was lying face down as electrically wired micro needles pulsated in my lower back¹.

This was already my second visit to the physiotherapist and I was less than a month into my first semester of university.

With more class readings due that week than I had completed in my entire life, I did not want to be here. But I could no longer ignore the untraceable lower back injury, impingement around my L5-S1², that had masqueraded as tightness until now.

By Grade 12, I had been lifting heavy for over four years.

I was benching in the high 200s, squatting in the 300s, and deadlifting in the 400s. Those three moves — bench, squat, and deadlift — were Holy Trinity to me. I wanted to be the strongest in my grade at them.

I wrapped my wrists for extra support under the crushing 250-plus pounds that hovered over my face on bench press days. I used chalk to dry my sweaty hands and strengthen my grip. When I squatted and deadlifted, I wore raised-heel weightlifting shoes and a 10mm SPD powerlifting belt. For deadlifts, I also slid on wrist straps to lift a bar loaded with so much weight that my grip could no longer hold it alone. 

But when I arrived at my university gym, I wasn’t the strongest guy around anymore.

I kept lifting heavier so I could be as strong as the varsity athletes I trained alongside. Until one day at the squat rack, I felt a sharp tweak around the tightness in my lower back that cut my workout short. 

I found the closest physiotherapist, made sure I was covered by my Dad’s benefits, and booked an appointment.

When I arrived, I explained what happened to my back, slyly mentioned that I also had an issue with my right shoulder, and slid in before the doctor could cut me off that my elbows were aching.

I messed myself up pretty badly.

If I didn’t change something, I was on track to be the fifty-year-old who is in a constant state of low-grade pain and always managing an ongoing injury.

~~~

In the years leading up to that physiotherapist visit, I was meticulous.

I self-educated on proper technique. I filmed myself at the gym and watched the tape back to correct issues with my form. I worked out with my brother and other gym friends. We would spot each other. Give each other tips when something didn’t look right. I recorded every workout on paper or my phone.

And for nearly five years, I barbell squatted, deadlifted, and benched heavy. No injuries. No major warning signs. No glaring issues in my movement that I or any of my friends could see³.

But over time, the amount of weight I was lifting combined with some minor unnoticed form flaws compounded until they sent me to the physiotherapist with an impinged lower back, a tweaked shoulder, and aching elbows.

Barbells are unforgiving. 

Especially when you’re lifting heavy.

Especially on the squat and deadlift.

Especially if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

The three lifts that I pinpointed as the source of my injury — barbell squats, barbell deadlifts, and barbell bench press —  are all extremely technically demanding. Performing them correctly takes a deep sense of bodily awareness, proper education on correct movement patterns, and meticulous monitoring of form⁴.

Even if you perform them perfectly, the sheer amount of weight on your body — if you’re training for strength — can lead to injury.

And since I was progressing in one way, adding more weight to the bar, my joints, spine, ligaments, and cartilage were under an increasingly heavy load every week. 

My injuries made me realize that the risk-reward ratio of these lifts is horrible, especially considering the bounty of other strategies I could use to develop strength.

~~~

I had bought into the story that I needed to do heavy barbell lifts to be strong.

But after I was railroaded by those injuries, I knew my training approach had to change. I had to find a way to be strong without putting myself on a path to chronic pain later in life.

I decided I no longer wanted to have the absolute strength of a powerlifter. Instead, I strived to be functionally strong, athletically well-rounded, and pain-free. 

I’ve been exercising pain and injury-free for 7 years since my last visit to the physiotherapist.

Have I created another ticking physiotherapy timebomb for myself? We shall see.

But barbell squats, barbell deadlifts, and barbell bench press haven’t been part of my exercise routine for over half a decade and I feel the strongest, fittest, and most supple I’ve ever been. 

I won’t end this by telling you to cut these movements out of your exercise routine. It’s not my place to say.

But I encourage you, unless you earn your living from lifting heavy weights on barbells, to ask if there’s a lower-risk way to achieve your fitness goals.

Thanks for reading!

If you enjoyed this post, please let me know…

1 — Leave a like. I’d be grateful if you’d consider tapping the “heart” ❤️ at the top or bottom of this page.

2 — Get in touch. If this resonates or you want to share your thoughts, please leave a comment on this post. I’d love to hear from you and I respond to everyone!

Leave a comment

3 — Spread the love. If you know someone who may enjoy reading this, please share it with them.

Share

Lots of love,

Jack

P.S. If you want to reach me directly, you can respond to this email or message me on Substack Chat.

Message Jack Dixon