Choosing Longevity Over Weight on the Bar (Part 2)
This article is a continuation of Part 1. In this post, I write about how I became obsessed with leg training, experienced both growth and failure, and eventually changed the way I relate to training itself.
Becoming Obsessed with Weightlifting Videos
As I continued training, I gradually realized that my legs were clearly my weak point.
The trigger was seeing the legs of a close gym friend. They were incredibly well-developed, and I strongly felt, “I really need to train my legs properly.”
More than anything, being labeled as having “chicken legs” in the training world felt honestly humiliating. Chest, back, and shoulders are popular to train, but leg training is unpopular simply because it’s hard. In reality, not many people train squats seriously.
While watching YouTube videos of strong squatters, I eventually discovered weightlifters and powerlifters. In particular, the way Olympic weightlifters sink deep into full-bottom high-bar squats looked incredibly powerful and beautiful. I started thinking, “I want to be able to squat deep and strong like that.”
From there, I began focusing heavily on leg training—especially squats and deadlifts. Legs are often said to account for around 70% of the body’s total muscle mass, and knowing that leg training could improve overall strength and performance greatly boosted my motivation.
I squatted two to three times per week, separating heavy days and light days to avoid injury. Around the same time, I had realized the importance of rice and carbohydrates, and I was eating about three cups of rice every day. I did gain some fat, but my squat increased from 130 kg (around parallel depth) to 175 kg at full depth. My deadlift also went from around 130 kg to about 185 kg, using a clean-style deadlift. This progress happened in less than three months.
Plateau and Declining Health
However, around this time, I started experiencing more breakouts on my face, constant fatigue, and overall poor physical condition. My appetite dropped, and I could no longer eat rice the way I used to.
Still, I had set my goal on a 200 kg squat. I forced myself to eat, and when I couldn’t, I relied on carbohydrate gels. But my strength began to plateau, and mentally I started to feel impatient. As a result, I increased the frequency of heavy, high-intensity training.
Looking back, there was no competition, no deadline—yet I was strangely obsessed with pushing myself. Eventually, the accumulated stress led to a hip injury, and I could no longer squat heavy at all.
Even when I went to the gym, I could only train my upper body or do very light leg work. Training gradually became boring, and my motivation faded.
Rethinking the Meaning of Training
While taking time off from training, I began asking myself a simple question:
“Why am I pushing myself to the point of damaging my health?”
That’s when I realized that this approach had absolutely no sustainability.
As a Christian, I live my life believing in God. Looking back, I deeply regretted that training had become more important than God in my priorities. Even if I could lift heavier weights, what was it really for? That question kept coming back to me.
I’ve always had a tendency to become so absorbed in something that I lose sight of everything else. I often only regain perspective after going too far. That level of obsession might be acceptable for work, but training is different.
So I decided to let go of my attachment to numbers and shift toward training that I could enjoy and sustain long-term. Watching my numbers slowly decrease was painful at first, but I realized something important:
I would rather be able to squat 100 kg at age 80 than lift 250 kg at 35 and be unable to train later in life.
To be honest, for about five years now, I’ve been training with a more playful, relaxed mindset. Currently, I maintain the ability to bench press 90 kg for seven reps and squat 100 kg for seven reps. Occasionally I increase the weight, but avoiding injury is always my top priority.
My health is good, and my overall fitness is well-maintained. After all, if you break your body, everything else becomes meaningless. It took me a long time to finally accept this very simple truth.
I’m now 37 years old, and I plan to keep training for the rest of my life. I also quit the gym and bought a power rack for my home, switching entirely to home training.
I’m grateful that I was able to find what feels like the “right balance” for me.
If this article offers even a small insight or new perspective to someone else, I’ll be very happy.
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