No pain, no gain.
When Jane Fonda (yes, that’s right) popularized these words in her aerobic videos of the early 80’s you can bet she’d no idea the agony they would bring.
You’ve heard the saying. And may have heard others declare it a myth.
What is the truth? Should training hurt? And if so, how should you deal with pain and even benefit from it in your training?
You can wish it weren’t so, even argue against it, as many have, but we all know deep down, in quiet moments of solitude, that you’re either getting stronger or spinning your wheels and wasting your time.
The simple fact is, stretching yourself beyond your previous bounds is gonna hurt. That’s just a part of “the masterplan”—the part that unfortunately lands so many millions smack down on the sofa for the vast majority of their lives.
The fact that pushing yourself to new heights does hurt, physically, mentally, emotionally and more, is also wisdom that serves as reminder, a real-time wake-up call reminding us we shouldn’t be busting new turf every day.
The thing about the pain is that at first, in any new sport or type of training it always hurts more at first, before you make friends with the particular pain of a particular type of training. I think this speaks to just how much of stretching yourself is mental.
For sure, your body has to be prepared, it benefits from becoming more adept through practice but if you reflect back on the first stage of any new activity you’ll find the degree of your wimpy-ness or intolerance for it beyond your ability to explain.
The Zen of Pain
When I first started experimenting with road biking just about every friend I had who rode offered me the same advice, in a casual, non-alarming way, “At some point it’s just gonna hurt.”
No if’s, and’s, or but’s about it; pain’s coming.
I’d made this note but what I didn’t know is what the pain would feel like? How much it would hurt? When I might know the limits of the hurt.
With this wisdom back of mind I set out for some hill climbs around my house. And hurt it did. Or so I thought. Looking back I now see that my endurance tolerance was so underdeveloped that a five mile ride seemed to cause me pain. And this isn’t to be confused with being out of shape. I could do it… and usually I’d do about 20 miles or so.
But it just seemed to hurt all the time. And then the hurt passed and like training does the pain turned into a sort of positive sign of pushing, of stretching…
This told me two things: 1. That I was lucky once again for I’d successfully turned to corner from pain and effort into a sort of pleasure. I wasn’t sure that this gene would trigger for me in a mostly endurance activity for it was such an unfamiliar stress. And 2. That I’d not actually been to that place of pain people been warning me about.
I often found number 2 rummaging around in my head prior to The Triple Bypass.
And Hurt It Did
In Success Lesson #1 I vividly detail to point when the pain began to overtake me during the 120 mile Triple bypass ride. But it was here, at the worst of the depths of pain where the wisdom offered from so many riders—it’s gonna hurt—paid huge dividends. Because I expected it.
While I may not have known what to expect, how much hurt it would be, I can say that when it really started to hurt, I knew it. No one had to tell me I’d reached that point.
And while there’s no way to make a Mike Tyson hook feel good, there’s a night and day difference between being ready for it, bracing yourself and getting caught picking your nose, watching the grass grow.
Ready for it I was and like so much of life, knowing what to expect that makes you all that more powerful.
Had I expected only to get winded, to have my endurance challenged, and never considered that my back, my neck, my ass, my feet or my shoulders and arms might hurt I think the pain would have been near debilitating.
How many places in your life when you look back can you say, “If I’d only known it was going to hurt that bad I’d have been better off?” It’s not that you always needed some graphic details but just to be prepared and often you have been.
Fact is, in sport as in life—whether your stretching your limits public speaking, exploring real intimacy in relationship or climbing Mount Ventoux in the Tour De France—some times it’s just going to hurt.
And once you know that and accept that the way it is, you can get on with the task at hand without all the drama. For even in the midst of what seems like pain, you are free to celebrate the ecstasy of growth and expansion.
And celebrate you should for the odd thing about this sort of pain, the thing that any athlete will tell you (and you can likely find true from your own life) is that the degree of satisfaction an achievement holds is in direct proportion to the amount and intensity of pain you withstood to get there?
The question I leave you to ponder in your own life today is…
How are you preparing yourself for the inevitable dance with pain? Are your pushing yourself into the “pain zone” or have you been too long putting on a good show while playing it safe?
P.S. The Strength of Pain
I have a lot of empathy for those who take on strength training for the first time. As if the effort of lifting, pushing and pulling with all your might is not pain enough—there’s the next day when you discover that weight-training is one of the few things you’ll ever do that can be more painful the next day.
I believe that not knowing what to expect derails a lot of people early into strength training. For without a skilled trainer or wise friend to prepare them for the next day pain or let them know that this delayed soreness will dissipate soon they have little motivation to continue the painful cycle.










17. August 2009 at 11:28 am
I needed this today. Wonderful thoughts and so so TRUE.
17. August 2009 at 4:03 pm
Started pull ups. Hurts.
18. August 2009 at 5:50 pm
@Jerry: Yeah Jerry… I hear you. Not a strong move for me these days with my “trick” shoulder… more rowing sort of guy…
18. August 2009 at 2:04 am
Just an observation. . .
I see bodybuilders taunting each other with this saying, As if to say “your a wimp if you don’t do this until it hurts.” I find this macho arrogance distasteful. There seems to be a sadistic quality to this no pain no gain thing,
And the only time I’ve been injured doing physical training,was some gung-ho trainer pushed my body too far and I got injured.
Of course those things really set you back, as you have to wait for the torn rotor-cuff to heal. And it may never heal right.
Pain is a sign that your body is not liking what your doing to it. Why would you ignore it? Pain protects us from injury.
Sore muscles is one thing but pain seems to me another. Seems to me you have to distinguish between different kinds of pain. Sore muscles is one thing. (usually recoverable) but tendon pain is another. You could risk serious damage if you don’t know the difference. Tendons take a long time to heal.
I’ve been damaged twice, from trainer’s who don’t know the difference between a 61 yr old (me) and them 20 or 30 something. You can’t put everyone in the same meat grinder and get the same results.
What is wrong with a very small gradient? You can improve but not injure yourself. I teach music and often I use the metronome
for technique I have students do increments of one click more than their top speed. You can hardly tell the difference, but they improve and because they are not “trying” and creating tension in their system, playing fast feels the same as playing slow. So there is no
dread of pain and because the increment is small they get a reward quicker. That is motivating.
If I told them to try 5 clicks faster than their comfortable top speed they would choke and tighten up and be very discouraged at the end.
When I learned to hike almost straight up a very steep 5 mile hill, I hiked until my body said that’s enough. I didn’t push past any pain.
My body adapted and I was able, most of the time go a little further. Eventually I got to the top. It was like a religious experience when I finally make it 5 miles without stopping. Listening to your body is a good thing. Same thing with shoes, when my body didn’t
like them I kept trying until I got the right sock shoe combination. So while my friends had blisters, from ignoring their body, I didn’t.
Anyway. . . I’m not sold on this no pain no gain cliche.
18. August 2009 at 5:57 pm
@Ken:
Excellent, wise post Ken. Love it… I think you just did what I didn’t really even attempt in the post–to draw the line between that macho nonsense and the subtle but strong connection with your body that can help one push to new heights.
My example of “no pain” is about the minds desire to entice the body to give in, to give up. It’s the way it works…
I fully agree that one must listen to their body and that’s ultimately dependent on you having some connection or rapport with your body. In the absence of this, you don’t even know when you’ve had enough to eat, or how good great food feel, or how bad not training feels. It’s all a mystery beyond your perception.
Perhaps this body rapport is like the 6th sense!
More of that… say more whenever. That was great!
In Strength!
Shawn
8. July 2010 at 6:46 pm
Great post that goes along with my own personal training belief of pushing myself so that I’m ready for whatever life may throw my way physically, mentally, and emotionally in hopes that I’m strong enough to endure the pain necessary. I like knowing that it’s coming (when possible) and will even seek it out to make myself stronger, but I don’t want all the gory details so I can psych myself out. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best.