Last summer, I had a meathead's equivalent of a "come-to-Jesus" moment.  It occurred while back squatting, and I can even tell you the day - July 10, 2016.

I can also tell you the weight and rep scheme (300 lbs for sets of 5) thanks to my meticulous record keeping.  That weight is important, because it's where all my secret compensations started to show.  I reviewed the video of my squats and saw that my butt was winking, my hips were shifting laterally, and my left knee continually caved in as I came out of the hole.  Angry and frustrated, I yelled the title of this post but substituted one specific word (sorry Mom!).

After some introspection, I calmed down. Why was I doing this exercise? Was it helping my goals? Was I seeing gainz? Or was it throwing me deeper into my compensations and developing new ones?

The answers were don't know, no, no, and probably yes.  The only reason I was back squatting was for vanity. It boosted my ego to see myself squatting heavy(ish) weights, and I thought I was more advanced than I was.  I decided I needed to take it down a notch and work on my squat pattern. But a funny thing happened shortly after - I fell in love with the two kettlebell front squat.

According to Google, the most popular post I've ever written was published back in August 2015: Is Exercise a Stress Reliever or Stress Amplifier?  Clearly, every post I've published since has been an exercise in futility.

For those that don't understand my brand of self-deprecating humor, that is what I call a "joke."  Both my understanding of strength and conditioning, as well as my overall writing ability, have greatly increased since that post.  But I often forget that even though the concepts in that post aren't new to me - how certain types of exercise actually compound your stress levels - it's probably new to most people.

One such example came last week, when Bob Harper - yes, trainer Bob from The Biggest Loser - had a heart attack at age 51.  Mainstream media and the interwebz were shocked by the news.  I, however, was not.

I'm a fan of head fakes.  Not in a sleazy way.  Only in a training way.

For example, my quest to deadlift 500 pounds in 2014 may have seemed arbitrary, if not wholly brotastic.  But actually, it was an exercise in conquering persistent back pain and increasing my confidence when lifting heavy things.  And, well, it helped build my "gym cred" too.

My current goal to become a Beast Tamer is more of the same.  It may appear as if I'm trying to join an elite fraternity, but the real goal is to continue learning the skill of strength and being able to accomplish what I've set my mind to. 

So when it comes to training and setting goals for others, it's no surprise that I employ the same strategy.  If someone wants to get leaner or more muscular - and really, that's the heart of most people's goals - I tend to recommend training for the Tactical Strength Challenge.  Its blend of maximal strength (deadlift), relative strength (pull-ups), and conditioning (kettlebell snatches) is a great way to test your physical preparedness.  But really, it's one of the best fat loss and mass building programs I've ever encountered.

I've been asking myself the same question over the past few years: "How much strength is enough?" Sometimes the answer is easy - like when someone can squat a piano, but they can't walk up a flight of stairs without panting.  

But other times it's less obvious. When someone is new to fitness and everything needs to be improved, or they have a specific goal like running a marathon or completing some other physical event.

And as much as it pains me to admit, there's more to training than simply being the Mayor of Gainz City.

My peak writing time always seems to be between 3-5:30 PM.  I don't have a "scientific" reason why. But it's usually when my afternoon coffee is flowing, I've just pigged out(?) on salad, and I'm riding high after deadlifting the equivalent of a smart car (I wish!).

Unfortunately, it tends to be the least writing conducive part of my day.  I'm either training myself during that time or I'm heading back for the second half of my workday. On good days and weeks, I can usually eke out 20 minutes of writing. But many times it's nothing and I can't help feeling guilty.

I've thought about taking a different approach: taking a few weeks off from writing every year until my schedule settles down. By pressing the pause button, it'd release my guilt when I can't get much accomplished, and who knows, maybe I'd find a different hobby outside of strength and conditioning (but probably not).

Yet, I always come back to the same arguments: 1) with no kids and minimal liabilities, this is the calmest and easiest life will ever be for me!  And 2) writing is a craft that you can only improve by, you know, actually writing.  As a result, I always decide to forge ahead regardless of how slow it might be.

Of course, I'm not just talking about my own writing schedule - I'm giving a glimpse into how most people think and act when it comes to changing their diet and exercise habits.