My Body Was Screaming. Did I Listen?

This spring and summer, I challenged myself to reintegrate powerlifting-style movements into my training.

And…

It did NOT go as planned.

As a former powerlifter, I appreciate this style of training. There’s something incredibly satisfying about getting under a heavy barbell, moving weight, and watching yourself get stronger.

But my body wasn’t quite as enthusiastic.

I had been out of powerlifting for quite some time, and for a while, that was exactly what my body needed. I was still lifting, but my focus was much lighter: injury prevention, rehabilitation, mobility, and rebuilding the areas that needed attention.

My low back, glutes, and ankles had all given me trouble. Lifting lighter and working on those areas without constantly challenging them with heavy loads was where I needed to be for a while.

But eventually, I started craving the intensity again.

I missed lifting heavy.

I missed challenging myself.

I missed that feeling of looking at a weight and thinking, I wonder if I can move that.

So I planned it all out.

And within a week, my body was screaming at me once again.

Not because my form was terrible—although there were definitely some things to clean up.

And not because I hadn't prepared.

I spent the entire spring building up to this.

I had done the mobility work. I had strengthened the supporting muscles. I had gradually increased my loads.

I had done everything “right.”

And yet, my body was telling me, this isn't what I need right now.

At first, I thought the problem was that I had simply lost my ability to powerlift.

But that wasn't it.

My body was screaming because I had changed.

I had evolved.

The Goals I Have Now Are Different

When I was powerlifting, my primary goals were aesthetics and strength.

I wanted to look good.

I wanted to be strong.

And, if I'm being completely honest, I wanted to prove something.

I wanted to prove that I could do hard things.

That I could be strong.

That I could handle it all.

And that I could do it all on my own.

My goals aren't wrong. And I don't regret that season of my life.

But I'm not the same woman I was then.

Now, I think about who I want to be when I'm 80 years old.

I want to be the woman who can carry her groceries into the house.

I want to be the woman who can walk all day while I'm on vacation.

I want to be the woman who can easily make it up a flight of stairs.

I want to be the woman who can kneel down to pet a puppy and confidently stand back up.

I want to be the woman who isn't afraid of falling because she trusts her body to catch her.

I want to be the woman on the dance floor at weddings.

I want to be strong, yes.

But I want my strength to serve my life.

And that made me stop and ask myself:

If those are my goals, why was I expecting the same training approach I used for aesthetics to get me there?

Now, I'm not saying powerlifting isn't valuable for those goals.

It absolutely can be.

Heavy strength training can build an incredible amount of strength and capacity.

But for me, it was incomplete.

Because strength isn't the only physical quality I want to have as I age.

I want strength and stability.

Strength and balance.

Strength and mobility.

Strength and the ability to move my body through the world with confidence.

So I Adjusted

I didn't throw out everything I had been doing.

And I didn't decide that my body was broken.

I adjusted.

I kept the aspects of powerlifting that I loved and started incorporating other types of movement that better supported the woman I am trying to become.

I added more stability work because I don't just want to be strong when I'm standing on two feet on a stable surface. I want to be able to control my body when things are less predictable.

I added balance work because I want the ability to catch myself if I stumble—and because balance is something we tend to appreciate a lot more as we get older.

I added deep core work because I want my core to actually support the rest of my body, not simply be something I train for aesthetics.

I added mobility work because I want access to my full range of motion—not just today, but decades from now.

And I added more functional movement because I don't want to be strong only inside my home gym.

I want to be strong enough to carry things, get up and down from the floor, climb stairs, walk, play, dance, travel, and live my life without constantly thinking about whether my body can handle it.

And after three months of training this way?

I'm actually excited to change my split again.

Not because what I was doing didn't work.

Because it did.

I just don't need to do the same thing forever.

I Proved Something to Myself

I was never planning to powerlift for more than a few months.

I genuinely enjoy changing my movement with the seasons and giving my body different things to work on.

But I also wanted to know if I still had it.

And I proved to myself that I do.

I lifted heavier than I had in years.

I honed in on my form.

I learned how to deadlift without the back pain I used to experience.

My squats feel better.

My bench feels better than it has in a long time.

And now?

It's time to shift.

And I'm more than okay with that.

I'll come back to powerlifting again.

I'll continue getting stronger.

But I'll do it as the woman I am now—not the woman I was then.

And that distinction matters.

Because sometimes we hold onto a plan simply because it worked for us once.

We assume that if something worked in the past, we should keep doing more of it.

But your body changes.

Your priorities change.

Your capacity changes.

Your life changes.

And sometimes the most important thing you can do isn't push harder.

It's listen.

Listening Requires Change

Listening to your body when it's screaming requires something important:

Change.

I had to be willing to throw out the original plan and create a new one.

I had to be willing to admit that the thing I wanted wasn't necessarily the thing I needed.

And I had to stop seeing adjustment as failure.

Because if I wasn't willing to change the plan, I would have eventually found myself in the same place I was the last time I gave up powerlifting:

Burnt out.

Frustrated.

And wondering why something I loved had become something I couldn't sustain.

Instead, I'm choosing to look at this season differently.

My body isn't failing me because it doesn't want to do what it used to do.

It's communicating with me.

And my job is to listen.

That's something I talk about often with my clients, too.

Because this isn't just about exercise.

We can do the exact same thing with our routines, our work, our relationships, our stress, our goals, and the expectations we have for ourselves.

Sometimes the plan that once worked perfectly simply doesn't fit the woman you've become.

That doesn't mean you failed.

It might mean it's time for a reset.

Not a complete overhaul.

Not starting from scratch.

Just a willingness to pause, listen, and make a different choice.

Because the goal isn't to create a life that never requires adjustment.

The goal is to become someone who knows how to adjust when life—and your body—starts asking you to.

Written By: Courtney Lillie, RESET Health & Wellness Coach

If chronic stress, burnout, poor sleep, low energy, or difficulty recovering physically have started affecting how you feel and perform, you don't have to simply keep pushing through it. At Danvers Wellness Center in Danvers, MA, we take a whole-person approach to stress recovery and nervous system regulation, incorporating movement, nutrition, lifestyle coaching, stress management, and practical strategies designed to support sustainable health and performance. Through our RESET framework, we help busy professionals and adults better understand the factors affecting their sleep, energy, physical recovery, resilience, and overall well-being. Danvers Wellness Center serves clients throughout Danvers, Beverly, Peabody, Salem, Middleton, Topsfield, Wenham, and communities across the North Shore of Massachusetts. Learn more about our approach and services at DanversWellnessCenter.com.