Deload Weeks: The Art of Playing, Recovering, and Learning
My experience(s) and load management.
Deload or Pay the Price: A Hard Lesson in Overtraining
In my personal training strategy, I run a three-week training wave followed by a deload week. If I push any longer than three weeks, I start feeling the effects of overtraining.
I always look forward to deload weeks. They give me time to reflect—on what worked, what didn’t, and what needs more attention. But most importantly, they give me room to play. I don’t do any strict programming, just creativity and experimentation to see what might make it into my next training wave.
Recently, I was reminded of just how important these weeks are for me—and it wasn’t the kind of reminder I wanted.
Ignoring the Signs
I track all my workouts, and a couple of weeks ago, I started noticing something was off. My sleep was getting disrupted—I’d wake up in the middle of the night feeling restless and uncomfortable. That’s usually my first red flag that I’ve hit my limit and need to deload. But in my head, I thought I was only two weeks into my cycle.
Then came the rye neck. One morning I woke up with a neurological tightness in the right side of my neck. It wasn’t a major concern at the time, just something to note. I kept training, still convinced I had another week to go.
But my sleep kept getting worse, my neck wasn’t improving, and by the last day of what I thought was my final week, my body hit the brakes hard.
The Breaking Point
I was doing a reactive strength exercise for my shoulder when my neck completely locked up. Immediate, severe pain—I couldn’t rotate my head in either direction. I finished the workout, collapsed on the ground, and started assessing myself, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.
That night, I could barely sleep. Rolling over in bed sent zings of pain through my neck. I was beyond exhausted. I finally pulled up my training log to search for clues.
Turns out I didn’t have to go digging very deep. What I thought was week two was actually week three. What I thought was my final week three was actually week four. I had overtrained. My body wasn’t just complaining—it was screaming. And I had ignored it because I miscounted my weeks.
Looking back, the rye neck wasn’t random. It was a neurological symptom showing up while I was already neurologically fried. I just didn’t connect the dots in time.
The Reality of Deloads
Usually, deload weeks are my playground—I get to mess around, try new movements, and make shit up. Not this time. This time, I was just trying to manage my neck pain and function normally so that I could sleep and recover. I even had to limit my driving because checking my mirrors was brutal.
I know many people resist deloads. Some see them as wasted time, and others just don’t feel like they need them. But if you’re pushing hard in training, you need to manage your load somehow. If you don’t, your body will do it for you—and sometimes, it won’t be subtle.
For me, deloads are a chance to reset, recalibrate, and get creative. I come up with ideas for my next training wave, find new insights for my clients, and refine my approach. They’re not a break—they’re a crucial part of the process.
How I Deload
My approach to deloads is simple:
Keep it low-stress, mostly conditioning-based.
Play use everything I can get my hands on, test special exercises and special strengths, but don’t push intensity.
Stay in Zone 2 for most of the session—just enough work to maintain conditioning.
During these weeks, I treat the gym like a lab—tweaking, refining, and experimenting. I bring out different resistance tools: bands, chains, rock climbing grips, kettlebells, and various levers. I mix in HIMA, PIMA, and OIMA isometrics. Controlled articular rotations (CARs) are sprinkled throughout to keep everything moving smoothly.
Some tools always make the cut. The sled and the reverse hyper always seem to get the most love because they’re incredibly versatile and easy on the system.
Lesson Learned
This experience was a brutal but necessary reminder: listen to your body. Your training plan might say one thing, but your nervous system doesn’t care. It’ll let you know when it’s time to back off. The trick is actually paying attention before you end up wrecked.
For me, deloads are non-negotiable. Whether I’m playing around or just trying to function, they’re what keep me moving forward.
Deload Example
Here is an example of what a deload training session may look like for me.
How do you or your clients deload? Let me know in the comments!