In some fitness circles, I’m known as the “anti-failure” guy (which is a gross mis-categorization but we will go with it for now). So I think it’s prudent that I start this section by making the case FOR failure training as well as (or better) than even the staunchest of proponents. And luckily, it’s not a very challenging case to make—that Cult of Intensity might not be so bad after all:
As was alluded to above, it’s no big secret that the reason failure is sought after is due to the increased stimulus that comes with it. There is a concept in exercise physiology called “effective reps” that refers to those within a sufficient intensity range that actually create meaningful adaptations. The theory goes that we tend to do a lot of volume that isn’t actually stimulating yet is creating fatigue and tiring us out. Just imagine a set of 20 reps—the first 10 will be insignificantly easy, the next 5 will be somewhat tiring but not close to muscular failure, and then the last 5 will be the point where the target muscles actually hit their limit. Experientially, reps begin to be “effective” around the ~5RIR mark. In other words, consistently training below this threshold pretty much guarantees that you’re not going to be making any significant progress. But we can actually take it further—If reps begin to exert their stimulating effects with 5 in reserve, wouldn’t it make sense to collect the full dose of effective reps during every set by going to failure?
And here is the crux of the argument in favor of training to failure…If increasing the volume of effective reps corresponds to an increase in the magnitude of hypertrophic potential, then it would follow that taking each set to failure would maximize that potential. It’s not a huge leap of faith to make the claim that failure training creates a greater stimulus. And if there is a hill to metaphorically die on, this one is BY FAR the easiest position to defend.
As an added benefit of the increased stimulus provided by training to failure, there is also a lower volume requirement that comes as a cherry on top. No matter how much you love the gym, being able to get the same (or more) gains while doing less is an attractive proposition. Anyone who has been following me for a while knows that I’ve written extensively in the past about how different training variables relate to one another; and the majority of this work has been highlighting the relationship between volume and intensity due to their almost perfect inverse correlation. That is to say—when one goes up, the other must come down by a proportionally equal amount. This might seem like a relatively innocuous add-on, but for certain individuals (very strong and/or advanced trainees) and in specific circumstances (compromised recovery), the reduced volume requirements can be even more impactful than the increase in hypertrophy. So as we analyze the merits of taking our sets to failure, it’s impossible to overlook how convenient it is to not have to do nearly as much work or spend as much time in the gym.
Continuing along our pursuit of truth and justice for failure advocates, we must also make note of the increase in objectivity provided by having a tangible end point to each set (i.e. technical failure). As much as I will argue vehemently that everyone needs to have a clear grasp on their intraset training intensity, I also am acutely aware that it can be really damn hard to estimate how close you are to failure in the moment. It takes years to refine this skill and expecting it to be intuitive is a bit of a stretch even for me. But when training to failure, there is very little guesswork that needs to be applied. Did you fail?—Yes or no? If yes, the set is over. If no, keep going. And that simplicity is attractive when there are already so many other things that have to be considered during a heavy and hard set! Removing that subjectivity takes the human error out of the equation (which is almost universally a good thing).
We can actually apply this same line of reasoning a bit further as we thing about how progress is tracked over the long-term. If we misjudge a single set within a single session, it’s really no big deal. We’re probably in the ballpark in terms of accuracy anyway. But extrapolate that subtle error out further…and further…and further. All of a sudden, being off on your intensity estimation by even a little bit begins to create the really large problem of chronically under/over shooting your mark. And that begins to call into question the validity of your progress over months or even years! Nobody wants that, which is why it’s often much easier to log training when it’s taken to failure. It’s already hard enough to compare and keep track of one, three, five, eight, ten, and twenty rep maxes. Compound that issue with trying to coordinate the soup of variables like tempo and ROM and exercise sequence while tabulating the efficacy of single set versus volume PRs—and it’s enough to make your head spin even without trying to worry about how close any given set was to failure.
The favorable argument is pretty straightforward here—Just go to failure and don’t worry so much.
In summary, training to failure results in:
1. Increased stimulus
2. Greater hypertrophic potential
3. Lower volume requirement
4. Increased objectivity
5. Improved long-term progress tracking