The Death of 3x10
I’ve been seeing 3x10 since I was a freshman in high school. It has been the prescription in football weight rooms, the cookie-cutter sets plastered on bodybuilding magazines, and even the default dosage they drilled into us in Physical Therapy school (which has the most atrocious approach to exercise prescription in the world. That is a soap-box for a different day). And while it’s not “wrong,” it’s lazy. It’s an easy, off-the-tongue statement—simple to remember, simple to prescribe.
That’s why it has survived.
The Truth
Muscle doesn’t care about 3x10. What it cares about is how close you push it to failure. If your sets end with 5-6+ reps still in the tank, you’re training, sure—but you’re not optimizing growth. You’re leaving gains, strength, and adaptation on the table (Schoenfeld et al., 2017; Grgic et al., 2022, PubMed).
And honestly, I have the same problem with any rigid prescription in hypertrophy work—whether it’s 3x12, 5x8, or whatever the cookie-cutter number is. Sure, there are times I’ll still program this—especially for guys who like the comfort of a set target, or if we’re doing true strength work (like a 5x5 progression). But even then, I hammer home the same principle: the number is just the shell, the real goal is proximity to failure. If that first set felt like you had a bunch left in the tank, we go up in weight. If you fell short, we strip a little off and keep pushing. Numbers are useful—but only if you understand they serve intensity, not replace it.
Rep Ranges vs Fixed Prescriptions
That’s why fixed prescriptions die and rep ranges live. Training in ranges like 8–20 reps feels less exact, but it’s actually more honest. Here’s why:
Rep Drop-Off = Real Work: Set one might be 12 reps, set two drops to 10, set three to 7. That decline isn’t weakness—it’s the mark of real fatigue. That’s how you know you’re hitting the fibers that grow (Especially if that fatigue is muscular fatigue and not just systemic fatigue).
RIR Over Rules: “Reps in reserve” (RIR) keeps you accountable. Instead of checking the box at 10, you train until you’re 1–3 reps from failure. That’s the anvil where adaptation is hammered out (Helms et al., 2016).
Built-In Auto-Regulation: Some days you’re a beast, some days you’re flat. A range flexes with you. A rigid 3x10 ignores the reality of life, recovery, and stress.
The bottom line: 3x10 is fine for the masses, but you’re not here to be average. You’re here to build the heroic version of yourself. That requires training that adapts, fatigues, and pushes you to the edge—not lazy prescriptions from the last century.
So kill the clone of 3x10. Train in ranges. Push towards failure (going to failure every time is not what we want—there’ll be a blog on this soon. Don’t worry buttercup).
References:
Schoenfeld BJ et al., 2017. Med Sci Sports Exerc. [PMID: 27694379]
Helms ER et al., 2016. J Int Soc Sports Nutr. [PMID: 27482522]
Grgic J et al., 2022. J Sport Health Sci. [PMID: 36246305]
