Monday, August 3, 2015
"You're not tight, you're just weak"
I hear it all the time, a lifter will say they cant perform a movement or get in a position because...
“I’m not flexible enough.”
“My mobility sucks.”
“I’m too tight.”
But what if the issue wasn’t mobility at all? What if the problem was that you’re just weak?
Let me rephrase that.
What if the problem was the muscles you need to hold you in those positions or complete those movements were weak?
I attended a seminar this weekend hosted by Max Aita in which he helped my setup by letting me know that it wasn't my ankles that were immobile, it was my quads being to weak to support the position I was trying to get into, which reminded me of a realization I came to last year.
Nothing has helped my mobility more than getting stronger.
I used to have a laundry list of what I thought were mobility problems, my knees would buckle on heavy squats/cleans, my lumbar would round at the bottom of a squat, my back would cave on the way up from those same movements.
I did mobility every day, anywhere from 20 mins to an hour of working on positioning and stretching and pretty much doing everything I could find online to fix all my problems.
But then I stopped, I got fed up with stretching, I got annoyed with spending hours a week on mobility and seeing no result.
So I told myself "fuck it, I'm just gonna train".
Instead of focusing on what I though were mobility issues I started focusing on my strength imbalances. I had a weak low back, my glutes weren't firing, and my hamstrings and upper back were lagging. So after months of posterior chain work I noticed something, my positioning was better. I was bouncing out of the hole faster and with more stability, my knees weren't caving as much. All of the issues I thought were due to tight hips and back were really due to my body relying on stronger muscles because the ones necessary to complete the movement properly weren't doing their job.
I wasn't immobile at all, I was just really fucking weak.
Since then I have cut my stretching and mobility work by at least 80%, and increased my accessory work about the same. I've never been healthier as a lifter, and I've never been more confident in my positions.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
"Learn how to train"
Working out, training, lifting, catching a pump.
There are many different names for what we do in the gym. Training is the one I use frequently, and frankly something I felt pretty comfortable doing. I could go into the gym, push myself, feel tired, come home, eat, rest, and get ready for the next session.
Boy was I wrong.
Training under Jon's "Bulgarian-ish" system brings a whole new meaning to the word "train". It's no longer a couple hours of snatches, clean and jerks, squats and some RDLs. Each workout requires unparalleled focus and effort. Something he had to beat into my head over the course of months. He has completely changed the way I approach my training, and my mentality in the gym.
For instance:
I no longer take long rests between sets. Snatches average 45-60 seconds between sets, clean and jerks average about 60-90 seconds. I used to take anywhere from two to five minutes between sets. Shortening my rests has helped me stay in rhythm during training. It took some getting used to at first, I had a lot of misses due to fatigue in the first few weeks, but slowly I have adapted to the faster paced training and can now get to about 90% of each lift in 7 minutes, when doing singles.
I am not allowed to walk around between sets. I used to pace back and forth in the gym between sets, kind of an anxious habit. This led to a lot of "Russell, where the fuck are you going?" and "Every time I look up you're on the other side of the gym walking around, sit down." Sitting and staying near the bar between sets has helped my focus tremendously. I was using my pacing as a way to start a conversation or check my phone, ways to mentally escape the workout.
My preparation has changed drastically. My pre gym ritual used to be nothing more than blasting some music in the car and chugging a Rockstar. Now it starts hours before the gym. Thinking about what I'm eating, making sure I'm rested, making sure I'm in the right mental state. Going over my goals for the session in my head.
I have learned to embrace the atmosphere no matter what it is. To me, atmosphere used to be loud music and yelling. But I have since learned to channel intensity in any form. Sometimes it's loud house music. Sometimes it's a joyful atmosphere with a lot of joking a shit talking. Sometimes it's silence. Some of the most intense lifts I've seen and done over the past few months have been in complete silence, no music, no talking.
Overall I realized that I had no idea how to train, and I had to learn. I had to learn how to train like a professional, I had to learn every training session was the most important session I've ever done.
There are many different names for what we do in the gym. Training is the one I use frequently, and frankly something I felt pretty comfortable doing. I could go into the gym, push myself, feel tired, come home, eat, rest, and get ready for the next session.
Boy was I wrong.
Training under Jon's "Bulgarian-ish" system brings a whole new meaning to the word "train". It's no longer a couple hours of snatches, clean and jerks, squats and some RDLs. Each workout requires unparalleled focus and effort. Something he had to beat into my head over the course of months. He has completely changed the way I approach my training, and my mentality in the gym.
For instance:
I no longer take long rests between sets. Snatches average 45-60 seconds between sets, clean and jerks average about 60-90 seconds. I used to take anywhere from two to five minutes between sets. Shortening my rests has helped me stay in rhythm during training. It took some getting used to at first, I had a lot of misses due to fatigue in the first few weeks, but slowly I have adapted to the faster paced training and can now get to about 90% of each lift in 7 minutes, when doing singles.
I am not allowed to walk around between sets. I used to pace back and forth in the gym between sets, kind of an anxious habit. This led to a lot of "Russell, where the fuck are you going?" and "Every time I look up you're on the other side of the gym walking around, sit down." Sitting and staying near the bar between sets has helped my focus tremendously. I was using my pacing as a way to start a conversation or check my phone, ways to mentally escape the workout.
My preparation has changed drastically. My pre gym ritual used to be nothing more than blasting some music in the car and chugging a Rockstar. Now it starts hours before the gym. Thinking about what I'm eating, making sure I'm rested, making sure I'm in the right mental state. Going over my goals for the session in my head.
I have learned to embrace the atmosphere no matter what it is. To me, atmosphere used to be loud music and yelling. But I have since learned to channel intensity in any form. Sometimes it's loud house music. Sometimes it's a joyful atmosphere with a lot of joking a shit talking. Sometimes it's silence. Some of the most intense lifts I've seen and done over the past few months have been in complete silence, no music, no talking.
Overall I realized that I had no idea how to train, and I had to learn. I had to learn how to train like a professional, I had to learn every training session was the most important session I've ever done.
Friday, May 22, 2015
"Push a tired body"
You ever have those days where within ten seconds of waking up you know it's gonna be a rough one? The kind of day where the flight of stairs to your apartment seem like their own workout, and bending over to pick something up off the ground makes you feel like an old man.
I've been having a lot of those lately. Actually, I would say more of my days are like that than aren't. In the past those days would mean I was gonna have a "light day". Go in, stretch, half ass my workout, and justify it to myself because I wanted to be "fresh for tomorrow". Well recently reality has slapped me in the face, and I am now understanding how important it is to push myself on those days.
Jon recently told me that my new motto is "push a tired body". I remember coming into the gym one day feeling completely torn up and telling him that I felt like crap and probably wasn't gonna perform very well. I'll never forget the look he gave me, it was a mix of "I want to smack you into next week" and... well actually it was just that look. One thing I knew about Jon is that he had an insane work ethic, from listening to podcasts and watching his old videos there is no doubt that he knows how to push himself. Something I thought I knew how to do as well. I did not.
The expectation is not for me to perform well on days that I'm beat up, the expectation is for me to perform at an extremely high level, if not better than when I'm fresh. It's all in the mindset. Tired, sore, aches, pains, it doesn't matter. The benefits to pushing myself through shitty days aren't only shown physically with my lifts, but mentally as well. If you can wake up and not want to move, and then get to the gym and hit 95% of your best total, you will never be hesitant in a workout again.
My objective every day in the gym has clearly been stated to me. Push.
I've been having a lot of those lately. Actually, I would say more of my days are like that than aren't. In the past those days would mean I was gonna have a "light day". Go in, stretch, half ass my workout, and justify it to myself because I wanted to be "fresh for tomorrow". Well recently reality has slapped me in the face, and I am now understanding how important it is to push myself on those days.
Jon recently told me that my new motto is "push a tired body". I remember coming into the gym one day feeling completely torn up and telling him that I felt like crap and probably wasn't gonna perform very well. I'll never forget the look he gave me, it was a mix of "I want to smack you into next week" and... well actually it was just that look. One thing I knew about Jon is that he had an insane work ethic, from listening to podcasts and watching his old videos there is no doubt that he knows how to push himself. Something I thought I knew how to do as well. I did not.
The expectation is not for me to perform well on days that I'm beat up, the expectation is for me to perform at an extremely high level, if not better than when I'm fresh. It's all in the mindset. Tired, sore, aches, pains, it doesn't matter. The benefits to pushing myself through shitty days aren't only shown physically with my lifts, but mentally as well. If you can wake up and not want to move, and then get to the gym and hit 95% of your best total, you will never be hesitant in a workout again.
My objective every day in the gym has clearly been stated to me. Push.
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
"Once you think you know everything, you know nothing"
Ego drives the fitness industry. If you’re not ready to stomp your feet and make a bold claim about the right/wrong way to do something, you’re gonna have a tough time making a name for yourself. The idea of “all knowing” is something that's extremely sought after for trainers. Being able to say “I’ve read it all, I know it all, I can teach everything”. The problem with that is once you think you’ve got there, you might as well not know anything.
As a coach, trainer, athlete, gym owner, or anyone in the fitness industry period, you should look at ever single situation as a learning opportunity. I’ve preached this since I started becoming a coach, and I will preach it all through my career. I don’t care if you’re a world record lifter or someone just picking up a barbell, every time you walk into a gym you should be there to learn, to get better.
As a coach I’ve learned from some of the best in the business. I’ve also learned from curl bros, old gym rats, weekend bodybuilders, and so on. Everyone has a story, everyone has a specialty, and everyone can improve your knowledge in some way if you let them. Don’t write anyone off just because they don’t do what you do, or teach how you teach.
This is something I have been struggling with lately. I work part time at a commercial gym that, to be honest, I consider under my level of expertise. I work with a bunch of ACE and NASM fad trainers. People who think the Paleo diet is for bulking and the bench press is part of Olympic Weightlifting. I watch people read magazines on treadmills and do hundreds of crunches in between prehab exercises thinking their using muscle confusion to improve their body. During the first few weeks I nicknamed myself Mr. Overqualified, because everything I saw around me was so elementary. I blew minds with my talk of movement patters and strength training. I pissed off my coworkers when I squatted below parallel and had my clients deadlift.
I had all but written off my coworkers after seeing one of them have an elderly man squat on a bosu ball. He fell down, and she obviously had no idea what she was doing, or what to do after that. She’s been a trainer for over 10 years. It disgusted me, it put a bad taste in my mouth, it made me hate everything about mainstream fitness all over again.
Then I stopped learning.
For a couple weeks I was done. I walked into the gym scoffing at all the trainers and members. Laughing in peoples faces when they ask me what the best “legs” exercises is. “Just squat, it’s not rocket science” I would spout as a strutted off completely sure I just cemented myself as the biggest ass hole in the gym. And slowly I got to a place where I never wanted to be. I was “that guy”. The guy who knows more than you, and doesn’t give you the time of day to explain or hear you out.
It lasted all of 10 days, but it was a rough 10 days. Finally I discovered what I was doing and stopped the spiral. I sat down with a fellow trainer who is working to become a physical therapist and we swapped stories and methodologies and my faith in the fitness community was restored.
I guess this article is more of a reminder to myself to shut the fuck up, put my head down, and push to better myself in every way possible.
As a coach, trainer, athlete, gym owner, or anyone in the fitness industry period, you should look at ever single situation as a learning opportunity. I’ve preached this since I started becoming a coach, and I will preach it all through my career. I don’t care if you’re a world record lifter or someone just picking up a barbell, every time you walk into a gym you should be there to learn, to get better.
As a coach I’ve learned from some of the best in the business. I’ve also learned from curl bros, old gym rats, weekend bodybuilders, and so on. Everyone has a story, everyone has a specialty, and everyone can improve your knowledge in some way if you let them. Don’t write anyone off just because they don’t do what you do, or teach how you teach.
This is something I have been struggling with lately. I work part time at a commercial gym that, to be honest, I consider under my level of expertise. I work with a bunch of ACE and NASM fad trainers. People who think the Paleo diet is for bulking and the bench press is part of Olympic Weightlifting. I watch people read magazines on treadmills and do hundreds of crunches in between prehab exercises thinking their using muscle confusion to improve their body. During the first few weeks I nicknamed myself Mr. Overqualified, because everything I saw around me was so elementary. I blew minds with my talk of movement patters and strength training. I pissed off my coworkers when I squatted below parallel and had my clients deadlift.
I had all but written off my coworkers after seeing one of them have an elderly man squat on a bosu ball. He fell down, and she obviously had no idea what she was doing, or what to do after that. She’s been a trainer for over 10 years. It disgusted me, it put a bad taste in my mouth, it made me hate everything about mainstream fitness all over again.
Then I stopped learning.
For a couple weeks I was done. I walked into the gym scoffing at all the trainers and members. Laughing in peoples faces when they ask me what the best “legs” exercises is. “Just squat, it’s not rocket science” I would spout as a strutted off completely sure I just cemented myself as the biggest ass hole in the gym. And slowly I got to a place where I never wanted to be. I was “that guy”. The guy who knows more than you, and doesn’t give you the time of day to explain or hear you out.
It lasted all of 10 days, but it was a rough 10 days. Finally I discovered what I was doing and stopped the spiral. I sat down with a fellow trainer who is working to become a physical therapist and we swapped stories and methodologies and my faith in the fitness community was restored.
I guess this article is more of a reminder to myself to shut the fuck up, put my head down, and push to better myself in every way possible.
"One more kilo"
If you walk up to the bar thinking you won’t make the lift, you might as well not even chalk up. You lost. Go home.
Mentality is something I’ve struggled with a lot in all aspects of my lifting, I get in my own head easily and start thinking about faliure, or worrying about the next lift instead of what’s on the bar.
Something Jon has helped me a lot with is expecting to succeed. There is a huge difference between the mindset I’m used to lifting with, and how he wants me to lift.
A good example would be Ilya Ilin. When Ilya walks up to a world record attempt, he’s smiling. He’s confident. He’s made the lift already, in his head he’s already on the podium. Lu is the same way. No fear, no over thinking. Just clear and confident.
Expecting to succeed does two things. Number one it let’s you lift with cinfidence, which is everything. But it also helps when you fail. What happens when you fail something you expected to succeed in? You get a bit upset. You get mad. That’s mine, I know I can get it, I deserve it, I shouldn’t miss.
Take things personally. When the bar beats you don’t say “aw I’ll get it next time”, say “fuck you bar, imma keep coming”. First you clark it, then a week later you get under it but can’t stand, then you stand up but can’t jerk it, then you lock it out over head but can’t gather your feet. Finally you make it, as expected.
One more kilo.
Mentality is something I’ve struggled with a lot in all aspects of my lifting, I get in my own head easily and start thinking about faliure, or worrying about the next lift instead of what’s on the bar.
Something Jon has helped me a lot with is expecting to succeed. There is a huge difference between the mindset I’m used to lifting with, and how he wants me to lift.
A good example would be Ilya Ilin. When Ilya walks up to a world record attempt, he’s smiling. He’s confident. He’s made the lift already, in his head he’s already on the podium. Lu is the same way. No fear, no over thinking. Just clear and confident.
Expecting to succeed does two things. Number one it let’s you lift with cinfidence, which is everything. But it also helps when you fail. What happens when you fail something you expected to succeed in? You get a bit upset. You get mad. That’s mine, I know I can get it, I deserve it, I shouldn’t miss.
Take things personally. When the bar beats you don’t say “aw I’ll get it next time”, say “fuck you bar, imma keep coming”. First you clark it, then a week later you get under it but can’t stand, then you stand up but can’t jerk it, then you lock it out over head but can’t gather your feet. Finally you make it, as expected.
One more kilo.
"Get your ass under the bar"
Pull higher, probably the most horrendous cue in weightlifting. The idea that all you have to do is pull higher and you’ll make the lift is like telling someone at the bottom of a squat to “stand up”.
Pull through. Pull back. Pull under. Don’t pull higher. Pull yourself into position, pull the bar back behind your head. The second that bar makes contact with your body it’s up to you to put yourself and the bar in proper position.
Don’t just pull the bar up, and hope to get under it. No “pull and pray”. Always connected to the bar, never free falling.All you should hear is two thuds. The bar making contact and then your feet landing. BLAP BLAP.
Back, back, through. And fucking get under it.
Pull through. Pull back. Pull under. Don’t pull higher. Pull yourself into position, pull the bar back behind your head. The second that bar makes contact with your body it’s up to you to put yourself and the bar in proper position.
Don’t just pull the bar up, and hope to get under it. No “pull and pray”. Always connected to the bar, never free falling.All you should hear is two thuds. The bar making contact and then your feet landing. BLAP BLAP.
Back, back, through. And fucking get under it.
"Every kilo counts"
"Every Kilo Counts": A quote from Paul Doherty of Hassle Free Barbell Club. An idea that Jon has beaten into my head pretty much since the day I met him. I say it a lot, “every kilo counts” or “one more kilo”. You should go into training with the goal of beating whatever you did last time by 1kg.
Max power snatch? Beat it by 1 kilo. Triples from the hang? Beat your best by 1 kilo. Keep your jumps true, why try to PR by 5kg if you haven’t even attempted a PR by 1kg? 1 kilo becomes 2, becomes 3, becomes 5, becomes 10, becomes the American Open, becomes Nationals, becomes the podium, becomes a gold medal. Always add 1 more kilo, because every kilo counts.
This video is awesome because it’s not important. It’s one day of training. A day with fauliurs, a day with assistance PRs, a normal day of training that shows there is no normal day. Every day is THE day.
Max power snatch? Beat it by 1 kilo. Triples from the hang? Beat your best by 1 kilo. Keep your jumps true, why try to PR by 5kg if you haven’t even attempted a PR by 1kg? 1 kilo becomes 2, becomes 3, becomes 5, becomes 10, becomes the American Open, becomes Nationals, becomes the podium, becomes a gold medal. Always add 1 more kilo, because every kilo counts.
This video is awesome because it’s not important. It’s one day of training. A day with fauliurs, a day with assistance PRs, a normal day of training that shows there is no normal day. Every day is THE day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)