d3track said:
so knee wraps dont fall into the evils of a lifting belt?
i use a belt, but have stayed away from wraps for fear that it may be too much of a cruch, and it has only been the past few months that i have even gotten to 405 squatting....
belt and wraps are good.
not evil.
pad on bar when squatting is evil.
here's an article by dave draper, former mr. universe and a bodybuilder who also cares about strength:
***********
Ready for Action, Ready or Not
Throughout my workouts I regularly strap, wrap and cinch myself together
to protect this or that and to enable me to outdo my unsupported self.
This is quite legitimate as few athletes of any sport perform free of gear
of one sort or another for very long. Continual adjustments are required
as I move about the equipment in my multi-set fashion to secure one pair
of wraps suitable for one particular exercise and release another that is
not. Certain straps need to be bound tightly to enable me to exceed a
joint's limits and quick removal is advisable as circulation is inhibited
-- Thank heaven for Velcro.
My belt is necessary for the overhead load yet resists my efforts when
bent over and pulling at an angle. The wrist strap has been in place too
long and my hand is deep blue, swelling and numb. Anybody see my belt? I
thought I left it here by the chalk box. Heavy-duty knee wraps take
tedious minutes to gather and re-roll while the wrist straps and elbow
wraps, looped around my appendages, hang long and loose between sets. I
look like the Curse Of The Untidy Mummy in a tank top and Nikes.
Supersetting squats with pullovers is engaging as I juggle my
belt-cinching and knee wrap procedures (wrapping, un-wrapping and
re-rolling) for the heavy leg movement with tight wrist strapping and
meticulous elbow wrapping (or is it strapping?) for the pullover. A
notorious volume trainer I sometimes carry on like a clown for seven or
ten rounds of this act before fatigue and confusion overcome me. Once I
hoisted a loaded Buffalo Bar across my shoulders and backed out of the
rack to dig into a hopeful set of four reps... you can do it, Draper. I
squinted into the polished mirror before me and noted that my wrists were
impenetrably bound in heavy-duty safety-red elastic binding, my
bandage-fortified elbows could take a bullet and my absolutely
indispensable thick black leather belt lay limply next to my rumpled,
totally essential knee wraps on the floor behind me. Something's wrong
with this reflection. I got the reps but it's confusing out there.
Oh, yeah. I never fail to carry water, a power drink, tissues (runny nose)
and a towel on my excursions and on occasion add gloves, bar
grip-expanders and a manta ray to the collection. Exhausting. I have
enough inventory and strategies for a small business. One day I will go
Public.
There are times when I go out to the wilds of the gym floor, er, naked:
just my gym clothes and me. What freedom. What courage. What innocence.
Truth is, the goofy heap of added attractions allows me to train harder
and heavier with less risk and less damage and soreness. I'm getting the
hang of it after all these years and I appreciate the hand-eye
coordination and the pacing mechanism their application provides. They
contribute a playful dimension to the already playful sport without
resorting to aerobic contraptions resembling Harleys and Corvettes. They
come in pairs and in colors and are under twenty bucks, belts excluded.