I have always gone to the gym, played hockey, and ran whenever the weather was nice. As a result, I built a decent frame and a basic level of strength. That foundation always helped in my athletic endeavors, whether it was hockey, racquetball, yard work/moving, or just being generally active. Senior year I was able to hit the following one rep maxes: I benched an ugly 225, squatted 275, and deadlifted 315 (also ugly). The problem was that after my senior year of high school, I never really got meaningfully stronger. For the most part, I was just spinning my wheels. I would hit these lifts or slightly higher maybe once or twice in college, but the results never lasted.
When I bought my house in early 2024, I stopped lifting for an extended period. For the first time since I was 13 years old, I went nearly four months without touching a barbell. I spent those months renovating the house and getting it ready to move into, so I stayed active, but I was unquestionably getting weaker, particularly on the competition lifts.
At the same time, I was preparing for my wedding later that year. I wanted to lose a few pounds, which I accomplished mostly by eating smaller meals and running more whenever I had the time. By the wedding, I was a physically smaller and weaker version of myself which, admittedly, was exactly what I wanted. I looked good in my suit, was free from many of the aches and pains that came with regular lifting, and was able to focus on the house and wedding preparations for a few months, which certainly made my wife happy.
Once we were settled into the house, newly married, and looking forward to an overseas trip to meet more of my wife’s family, I found myself wanting to get serious about lifting again. Not just to get back to where I had been in high school or during one particularly good year in college, but to become the strongest I had ever been.
To do that, I knew I needed three things: a proven program, a diet to support the program, and arguably – most importantly – consistency.
That led me to Starting Strength and Mark Rippetoe.
I bought the famous “Blue Book” and became a regular lurker on the Starting Strength forums and website. I soaked up everything I could about the squat, bench press, deadlift, and overhead press. I listened carefully to Rippetoe’s explanations of linear progression and his preaching on the magic of sets of five.
Then I got to work.
Looking back through my training logs, I started in September of 2024 with the following working weights for sets of five:
Bench: 135 lbs
Squat: 175 lbs
Deadlift: 175 lbs
Press: 65 lbs
Bodyweight: 190 lbs
Every one of these lifts felt light. My bar speed was excellent, and while my technique certainly wasn’t perfect after several months away from the gym, it was good enough to start building from.
Just under three months later, my lifts looked like this:
Bench: 215 × 5
Squat: 325 × 5
Deadlift: 345 × 5
Press: 125 × 3
Power Clean: 170 × 3
Bodyweight: 208 lbs
Those three months produced the fastest strength gains of my life – even surpassing what I experienced during my first year of lifting. Certainly, some of that was simply regaining strength I had previously built (years removed), but I’m convinced that if I had discovered this program in my late teens or early twenties, I could have ridden that novice progression even longer.
I also committed to eating in a way I never had before. Every day I consumed at least 200 grams of protein (lots of beef, I mean LOTS). After dinner, I’d often have toast with peanut butter and wash it down with a big glass of milk before bed.
For the first time in my life, I was consistently eating enough to exceed the demands of my training.
Was it necessary to gain 18 pounds in three months? Probably not. Could I have gained nearly as much strength while putting on a little less weight? Maybe. But I also don’t think I left much muscle growth on the table. And keep in mind, the goal was to get strong. Recall, I already attempted the whole “look pretty” thing for the wedding.
Looking back, starting “too light” may have been the single best decision I made.
For the first couple of weeks, the workouts almost felt too easy. There was never any temptation to grind through ugly reps or test my limits. Instead, I accumulated hundreds of quality repetitions while practicing the movements and recovering fully between sessions.
Eventually, the deadlift became the first lift that truly challenged me, with my grip becoming the limiting factor. Learning the hook grip and using chalk sorted that out. The squat and bench continued progressing smoothly for weeks afterward despite adding five pounds every workout.
That long runway made all the difference. I genuinely believe it reduced my injury risk while allowing my movement patterns to become automatic. By the time the weights became genuinely difficult, the technique had already been ingrained.
The physical changes were obvious.
My shirts went from mediums and some larges to larges and some XLs. My waist size increased from a mix of 32s and 34s to mostly 36s and even some 38s. I’d already struggled to find pants that fit because of years of hockey, but after this bulk I was firmly in the “athletic fit” category.
More importantly, I felt noticeably stronger and more explosive. Given the amount of squatting, deadlifting, and power cleaning I was doing every week, that wasn’t surprising.
Perhaps most importantly, I stayed healthy throughout the program and finished with enough confidence to register for my first powerlifting meet.
Looking back, Starting Strength remains the most disciplined and enjoyable period of lifting I’ve ever had.
Much of that came from the simplicity of the program. Every workout had a clear objective: add a small amount of weight, perform quality repetitions, and come back to do it again. I learned to eat enough to support growth, appreciate the value of patience, and develop a much deeper understanding of the basic principles that actually make people bigger and stronger.
I also got over some of my fear of gaining weight. Sure, I finished the program with a little extra around my midsection, but I also built more muscle and strength than I ever had before. Looking back, I’d happily make that trade again.
The novice linear progression isn’t a forever program for obvious reasons. It isn’t the right choice for every lifter. But for the newbie, or for someone who has plateaued from years of inconsistent or unstructured training and still has plenty of untapped strength potential, I think it’s one of the best places to start.
In particular, I think it’s an excellent choice for lifters who haven’t yet reached some basic strength milestones – roughly a two-plate bench press, a three-plate squat, and a three-plate deadlift. Those numbers aren’t magical, but they’re a reasonable indication that a novice linear progression still has a lot to offer.
For me, Starting Strength provided far more than bigger numbers on the bar. It gave me a foundation for intelligent programming, taught me how to fuel my training properly, and ultimately sparked my interest in powerlifting.
If I could go back and do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Well…I guess I would budget a little more money for a new wardrobe. Other than that, it was just about perfect.
