21 Feb From Injury to 1,306 Pounds: Why Hip Structure Changes Everything
Article Rundown
- Breaking 1,300 lbs came from rebuilding hips and core, not chasing numbers
- Hip structure dictates squat depth, stance, and technique
- True hip range ends where the spine starts compensating
- The best squat matches your anatomy, not someone else’s form
Why Hip Structure Changes Everything
When I decided to come back from my injury, I had one clear goal in mind: I wanted my squat record back.
That record was taken in 2013—the same year I met Dr. Stuart McGill. At the time, I had squatted 1,185 pounds at 275. Someone eventually broke it with 1,210, and for years that number sat in the back of my head while I rebuilt my body from the ground up. Fast forward to last year, and I became the first human to ever squat over 1,300 pounds. That wasn’t an accident. And it definitely wasn’t luck.
I exceeded my best pre-injury squat by 121 pounds—but it took years of patience, intelligent restraint, and rebuilding my entire system, especially my core and hips.
Rebuilding the Squat Starts with the Core and the Hips
After the injury, I didn’t chase numbers. I rebuilt foundations.
That meant learning how to truly use hip and core strategies instead of muscling weight through compromised positions. Before you ever worry about bar weight, you need to understand what your hips are capable of doing—and just as importantly, what they’re not capable of doing.
That’s why assessments like pelvic rock backs and hip scours matter. They tell us how much motion you actually have before your spine starts compensating.
A lot of lifters think they’re mobile when in reality they’re stealing motion from their lower back.
Not All Hips Are Created Equal
One of the biggest mistakes I see in lifting is assuming everyone should squat the same way.
Your bone structure—something determined long before you ever touched a barbell—plays a massive role in how you should squat. Hip socket depth, femur length, pelvis orientation… these aren’t preferences. They’re anatomy.
There’s a reason so many elite Olympic lifters come out of places like China, Russia, Ukraine, and Poland. Many of them have very shallow hip sockets, which allows them to sit “ass to grass” while keeping a neutral spine. The trade-off? Shallow sockets can come with higher risks of hip issues like dysplasia.
On the flip side, someone like me—with Irish and German ancestry—tends to have deeper, more robust hip sockets. I can load my hips like a spring and produce massive power, but I’ll never be able to sit straight down like an Olympic lifter without my spine giving up position.
That doesn’t make one better than the other—it just means the strategy has to change.
Finding the Bottom Without Breaking the Spine
When I assess someone’s hips, I’m not trying to stretch them. I’m trying to find the edge.
As I move the femur through its range, I’m watching for the exact moment the pelvis starts to rotate. That’s the point where hip motion ends, and spinal motion begins. That transition—when lifters push past it under load—is where butt wink shows up and injuries begin.
If you can bring your knee close to your armpit without pelvic movement, you’ve got shallow hips and excellent raw range of motion. That kind of lifter doesn’t need endless stretching—they need stiffness, control, and positional strength.
Most powerlifters are actually the opposite: tight hips, limited true range, and lots of compensation.
Stance, Width, and Individual Solutions
Once we understand hip anatomy, stance selection becomes obvious.
Width isn’t arbitrary. It’s dictated by where the hip allows motion without spinal compromise. Sometimes that’s slightly wider than shoulder width. Sometimes narrower. Sometimes asymmetrical by a hair—and that’s okay.
The goal is always the same: reach depth using the hips, not the spine.
When you respect that principle, everything else falls into place—efficiency, longevity, and strength.
The Real Lesson
Breaking 1,300 pounds wasn’t about being tougher than everyone else. It was about being smarter than my previous self.
I stopped forcing my body into positions it wasn’t built for and started training with my structure instead of against it.
That’s the lesson I want lifters to understand:
The best squat isn’t the one that looks perfect on Instagram—it’s the one your anatomy can repeat for decades.
And if you get that right, the numbers take care of themselves.
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