The brain that says 'I can still do it' and the body that says 'I want to rest.' When to take a break from strength training: meiseki OS #9
Diet, exercise, and sleep. These are all complex and closely linked, so to optimize the body, it is important to integrate these elements, make informed decisions, and choose your daily actions accordingly.
This series presents the design philosophy and development story of meiseki OS, a 'system (OS)' that consolidates fragmented healthcare data to help you see your own condition clearly. This episode is about the old-school mentality of finding it hard to take a break from training even when you are tired.
Key points of this article
Entering my first deload for recovery. A deload is a period where you intentionally reduce training load to focus on recovery.
By aligning HRV (Heart Rate Variability) and RHR (Resting Heart Rate), it became clear that my body had been sending signals that it was 'tired'.
It wasn't that the signals weren't there; I just didn't have a way to view them on a single screen, and my records remained split across multiple apps.
Breaking down the 'fear of resting' and organizing what happens when you do rest (link to the guide at the end).
The illusion of invincibility from beginner gains
When I first started strength training, I was carried away by the initial beginner gains.
The more I did, the more my weight increased. The weights I lifted went up. I could feel the pump. No matter how much I ate, I didn't feel sleepy after meals.
I truly believed I was invincible.
However, nine weeks after I started serious strength training, something strange happened.
My head felt foggy. My body felt unusually heavy. I had no motivation.
Is this fatigue?
I felt I had a mission to keep building muscle and increasing my weight, and I had no time to rest.
I wanted to lift heavier weights and add more exercises.
That is what I thought at the time.
The 10th week of serious training: my body screams
Even if I'm tired, it must be working for muscle hypertrophy.
Because I wanted to push myself so hard, the following week, I went in the opposite direction of what my body was telling me.
I committed the reckless act of adding one more exercise to my usual routine.
Naturally, I was completely exhausted that day.
Even so, I still thought it felt good.
I thought I would surely sleep soundly that night after pushing myself so hard.
However, on the contrary, I couldn't fall asleep at all that night.
And the next day, which I greeted with a lack of sleep, was a rest day from strength training.
I thought that since I was sleep-deprived yesterday and my body was tired, I would definitely sleep well tonight.
I thought that, but I couldn't fall asleep for two nights in a row, and I fell into a state of sleep deprivation.
Naturally, my body did not recover.
Thinking that this was definitely bad, I immediately started a deload and prioritized recovery.
What happens when you push yourself further while you haven't fully recovered from fatigue?
I learned later that there is a name for that: overreaching.
If I had known this term beforehand, my decision in the 10th week might have been different.
What I realized after looking at the data later
During this period, I hadn't yet incorporated HRV or RHR into my dashboard.
In other words, I was adjusting the intensity of my strength training entirely based on intuition.
Later, I created a dashboard incorporating the data from that time and looked back on it.
It seems my body was properly sending signals that it was 'tired'.
However, my 'Showa-era brain' kept pressing the accelerator with grit and determination, saying, 'Don't rest, you can still do it.'
I tried organizing the feeling of 'being afraid to rest'
I had known the phrase 'resting is also training' for a long time.
Even knowing that, my Showa-era brain wouldn't stop.
Even if I understood the words, if resting looked like a step backward, it would be removed from my options, or I would keep putting it off, telling myself that resting could wait until later.
And grit and determination are far too convenient as criteria for making decisions.
No matter how many times I asked, the only answer I got back was 'I can still do it.'
So, I broke down and organized this feeling of 'knowing I should, but being unable to rest.'
In the end, in my case, in order to rest,
'I wanted someone (or something) to give me a push'
is what I realized.
How are supercompensation and overreaching organized?
Where is the line between the parts that can be answered with general theories regarding how many days to rest, and the parts that can only be answered by one's own records?
I have summarized this in a guide article.
▷ Guide: Deconstructing the fear of resting—basing 'resting is also training' on evidence
Look at the records, not your grit
If, in that 10th week, my strength training load, HRV, and RHR had been lined up on the same timeline, my decision would surely have been different.
At the very least, I could have considered which to believe—'I can still go' or 'I want to rest'—based on recorded data rather than my mood.
meiseki OS is built for that purpose.
It is a system that, on your behalf, lines up your scattered diet, exercise, sleep, and biometric data on a single timeline for you to see.
It does not judge labels for your condition or round things off into a single score.
And, it is I, and it is you, who decide whether or not to rest.
I believe the role of a system is to ensure that the information needed to make that decision is not hidden.
▷ See the philosophy of meiseki OS
※This article is based on my personal experience and general physiology, and does not recommend any specific diet, training method, or treatment. If you have concerns about your physical condition, sleep, or weight management, please consult a medical institution or professional.
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