Injury Prevention Isn't Boring: How to Keep Lifting Without Falling Apart
By Tessa — Lifting heavy and lifting you up. Strength is the whole personality. ·
Look, I’ll be the first one to admit it: I’m a total hypocrite. Last year, while training for my second powerlifting meet, I decided that ‘warm-ups’ were just optional suggestions for people who didn’t have a heavy deadlift to conquer. I walked into the gym, threw some chalk on my hands, and tried to rip a PR off the floor like I was still twenty-two and made of rubber.
Spoiler alert: My lower back did not appreciate that. I spent a week moving like a Victorian ghost with a stiff neck, and Barbell—my golden retriever, who is frankly the only member of my household with any common sense—spent the entire time looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
We all want to be the hero of our own fitness story, but you can’t be a hero if you’re sidelined with a tweaked shoulder or a cranky hip. Let’s talk about injury prevention, but let’s do it without the lecture.
The “I’m Too Busy” Myth
I hear it all the time from my online clients: “Tessa, I don’t have time for a 20-minute mobility flow before I lift.” First of all, I feel you. I’d rather spend that time actually lifting. But here’s the reality check: spending five minutes prepping your body is a whole lot faster than spending six weeks in physical therapy.
Injury prevention isn’t about doing a thousand band pull-aparts while staring blankly at the wall. It’s about priming your nervous system to do the work you’re about to ask of it. If you’re going to squat, you need to tell your hips and ankles that they’re about to be invited to the party.
The “Quality Over Ego” Protocol
We love a PR. I love a PR. My Instagram grid is basically just me looking like a tomato while struggling with a barbell. But there is a massive difference between pushing your limits and just being reckless with your joints.
When you’re under the bar, leave the ego at the door. If your form starts looking like a dying fish, that is your body telling you it’s time to drop the weight. I don't care how many followers you have or who's watching at the gym—no lift is worth a trip to the orthopedist.
How to Actually Stay in the Game
Here are three things I’ve implemented since my ‘Victorian ghost’ phase that have actually saved my training:
1. The “Traffic Light” Warm-up: Don’t just jump into your working weight. Spend 3–5 minutes doing something that gets your heart rate up (I love shadow boxing or just a brisk walk), then do some dynamic movements. If you’re squatting, do some leg swings. If you’re benching, get those shoulders moving with some light resistance bands. Treat your body like a car in winter—don’t just floor it the second the engine starts.
2. Listen to the ‘Cranky’ Signals: There is a difference between ‘muscle soreness’ (the good kind of ouch) and ‘joint pain’ (the bad kind of stop). Muscle soreness feels like a dull ache. Joint pain is sharp, specific, and usually happens in the same spot every time. If you feel a sharp pinch, stop. Adjust your grip, change your stance, or swap the exercise entirely. There are a thousand ways to build muscle; don’t get married to one movement that hurts.
3. Recovery is Part of the Workout: I know, I sound like your mom. But ‘active recovery’ is real. Go for a walk with your dog. Do some light stretching while you’re watching a show at night. Sleep is when your body actually repairs the damage you did during that heavy set. If you’re burning the candle at both ends and trying to hit personal bests, your body will eventually push back.
You Are the Only Equipment That Matters
At the end of the day, your body is the only piece of gym equipment you can’t replace. You can buy fancy shoes, a new belt, or lifting straps that cost more than a nice dinner, but if you don't look after the machine inside, it doesn't matter.
Building strength is a marathon, not a sprint. I’m 26, and I want to be lifting heavy when I’m 60. That means I have to be smart enough to know when to push and humble enough to know when to dial it back.
I’ve had my share of setbacks, and I’ve learned the hard way that being ‘tough’ sometimes means knowing when to rest. Don’t be like me in my pre-dog-owner days. Take care of yourself, move with intention, and keep showing up for the long haul.
How do you handle those days when your body just isn’t cooperating? Do you push through, or do you take a forced rest day? Let me know in the comments—I’m currently trying to convince Barbell that ‘recovery walks’ should count as cardio, and I’d love to hear your thoughts.