The Integra Blog

Strength Training for Women

Ladies: what can you expect from strength training?

The gym environment has been part of my life since I was fourteen years old, when the family doctor prescribed resistance training as a means to manage my scoliosis. Like many women my primary goal was to be “toned”, which to me meant achieving good muscle definition and maintaining a trim figure. Although I wasn’t shy of sharing the weights area of the gym with large men lifting dumbbells as big as my head, I kept my own weights quite light and my reps high, as I believed big weights would make me bulky, and that a workout was worthless if you didn’t leave the gym sweaty and tired. Consequently, I’d do a light resistance workout followed by half an hour of cardio, usually totalling 60-75 minutes of training.

This approach delivered some results, but I soon reached a plateau. My muscle definition, though quite constant, was not actually improving and I wasn’t able to lift substantially more weight from week to week. I’d achieved a reasonable level, but couldn’t seem to progress. Clearly a change was called for.

Enter strength training proper.

How did this differ from my previous workouts?

• 1: As little “cardio” as possible, and definitely none at the end of a weight-training session (for the sake of argument I’m defining “cardio” as continuous activity lasting more than ten minutes, done with relatively low resistance and with the goal of raising the heart rate and getting sweaty. The kind of stuff you’d usually do on a bike, crosstrainer or treadmill. We could get into a whole debate about what really constitutes cardio but I’ll leave that for another day!).
• 2: Lift heavy and do not fear low reps!
• 3: Vary lifting tempo, i.e. the speed at which you move.
• 4: Exercise for a maximum of 35 minutes.

At the beginning, this was quite a shock to the system. I simply did not believe that I could stay trim and get stronger by training less and reducing cardio work. Furthermore, my exercise experience was completely different. I was used to finishing a workout physically exhausted; I’d now finish a workout feeling physically ok but mentally exhausted.

What was going on? I knew I’d pushed myself during every set, I knew I physically couldn’t have done another rep. So why didn’t my body feel tired? Why was mental fatigue the prevailing feeling?

Strange as this might sound, muscle strength starts in the brain. The heavier the weight you lift, the more motor units the brain has to recruit; in other words, your brain works harder when you lift heavier. As a result, if you’ve always kept to the classic 8-12 reps usually prescribed for women and suddenly choose a weight that will have you struggling on rep 4 your brain will need to adjust. This can take anything from a few sessions to a few weeks, but once it’s done the feeling of mental fatigue fades, and the prevailing post-workout sensation goes back to being muscle fatigue.

So far so reasonable. My next question was: is it working?

By monitoring my progress from week to week the answer was undoubtedly yes. I got stronger, I didn’t get bulky and my muscle definition improved. And all the while I ate normally, I didn’t take any supplements (other than fish oils) and I didn’t drink five protein shakes a day. I also discovered something else: in those two months of heavy lifting, my connection to my body improved more than it ever had in the previous ten years of cardio and “toning”. I could suddenly feel areas I’d previously been completely unaware of. I had lats - who knew?!

There are mainly three points I’d like you to take from my experience.

The first is that goals and expectations are not always in line, at least not at the beginning. If you expect to feel in a certain way after a workout, but the workout that will produce that feeling is not conducive to your goals, it’s worthwhile asking yourself what’s more important: the feeling or the goals? Are those goals still valid if they don’t produce that feeling? Or might you have to re-define those goals?

The second point leads on from the first: doing something just because it makes you feel good is fine. I do a lot of my training for exactly that reason. But be clear about your motivations to ensure your actions and goals are properly aligned.

Finally, remember that if you want to achieve something you’ve never achieved before you have to be open to experiencing something that you’ve never experienced before. If everything you’ve tried so far hasn’t really worked you probably won’t know how it feels to do something that does work - and that feeling might not be what you expect.

Give me something for the pain!

I recently read an article which suggested taking anti-inflammatory drugs to relieve post-workout soreness. This reminded me of the lyrics of a song by Bon Jovi called “Something for the Pain”:

“I don’t need no Guru to tell me what to do
 when you’re feeling like a headline on yesterday’s news,
 [….]
 Give me something for the pain…”

Why do I quote this beloved 90’s rocker (who’s still going strong by the way)? Both the song and the article are a great example of our general approach to pain: just give me something to make it go away

Being in pain is a massive drag. It’s annoying, it drains your energy and it detracts focus from everything else in your life. It is not an easy place to be. However, pain is more than just a nuisance: it is information and protection.

David Butler describes pain as:

normal and an excellent, although unpleasant, response to situations when your brain thinks you are in danger.

“I wish you could just tell me what’s wrong!”

Our bodies have many ways of giving us feedback. Fatigue, hunger, irritation, pain and all other “negative” (and “positive”) sensations are the language of the physical body, communicating what is happening inside. It’s a language we speak, but have become unaccustomed to hearing. And much can be gained from re-attuning our ear to its tone so we recognise it’s subtle shades of meaning, in the same way a parent’s ear learns to recognise every nuance of their baby’s cry.

In general, persistent or recurrent pain is an indication that something somewhere is not quite right. From a neurological viewpoint, pain is a complex phenomenon which can arise from all sorts of things: indeed, it’s possible to experience physical pain even when there is no apparent physiological cause.

What I’d like to address here is pain that arises in response to specific activities or situations.

Would you drive a car with no brakes?

Have you ever experienced a pain which only manifests itself when you do a certain activity? A twinge in your shoulder when you bench press, a pain in your shin when you run, an ache in your lower back when you vacuum? The immediate meaning of this kind of pain is very simple: stop doing that! In other words, your body is producing a pain signal to discourage you from doing something it knows will harm it. (Disclaimer: this article is not to be used as an excuse not to vacuum).

In these circumstances pain is a protective mechanism: a brake. If your body cannot tolerate a certain activity there’s a reason, and if you find the reason you can potentially solve the problem. But if you numb the pain and carry on in your de-sensitised state you are removing your natural safeguards against injury.

Of personal growth, basket-weaving and granola

The question that springs to my mind is, therefore: why? Why would we want to do away with the body’s natural protective mechanisms? Why would we be willing to ignore its cues? What bearing would it have on our identity if we acknowledged these cues instead? 

I’d like to share a quote from an excellent article by Paul Ingram:

“Everything we experience - pain included - is somehow an expression of who we are and who we have been”.

Perhaps acknowledging pain or limitation is so unpalatable because it questions our identity, our choices, our past.

“But I have to run… that’s who I am!”, “What will I do to let off steam and keep my weight in check if I can’t do [insert activity here]?” “Eating [insert food here] every day is my only pleasure, I can’t give it up!”, “But I thought I was doing everything right!”

These objections are often rooted in fear: fear of being wrong, fear of not being good enough, fear of acknowledging an unmet emotional need, fear of relinquishing control, as if life could somehow unfold without your consent leaving you with something you didn’t want and didn’t choose. And if this is the case, it’s worth bearing in mind that feelings and beliefs can have physical manifestations. Therefore, the real problem might not be the pain, but the feeling that created it.

“The important thing is not to stop questioning” (Einstein)

We’ve all heard it said that once you acknowledge a problem you are halfway to finding its solution. But if you numb or disconnect from the sensations that alert you to the problem, that solution might be a long time coming.

We are all subject to sociological pressures, financial concerns and family responsibilities. The world around us is fully capable of shouting loudly enough to drown out our body’s voice. But the body is designed to protect, and it will be heard in one way or another. And there are many ways we can listen: physically, through awareness of our motion and our body’s feedback; emotionally, through awareness of our feelings; mentally, through awareness of our reasoning and thought processes. 

And although we might not always like what we hear, it’s useful to bear in mind that we are what we are, and what we do is one of the many manifestations of that identity. It may be challenging to find an alternative way of living that identity, but one thing the universe is not short of is possibilities, guides and examples. The changes we make might not need to be huge, or even permanent. But the knowledge that we were able to make those changes and still remain true to ourselves is a huge step towards physical, mental and emotional freedom.

- Martina Avellino