Again Faster

2007-07-28T17:51:00.000+01:00

The New Again Faster

Again Faster has moved! Please visit our brand-new site at www.againfaster.squarespace.com. Be sure to update your bookmarks with our new address, and check out the retail store. We stock everything you need to outfit your home gym or CrossFit facility at prices that won't break your wallet.

Of course, we've still got the blog going. You can access it by clicking the "Articles" link on the main page of the new site.

If you have feedback on the new site, I'd love to hear it! Just drop me a line at jon@againfaster.com.

Thanks for reading Again Faster!

2007-07-19T13:55:00.000+01:00

A Hierarchy of Functional Movement

One of the basic tenets of the CrossFit method is a reliance on functional movement. Simply, this means that movements with limited real-world application have no place in our programming.

For this reason, we eschew biceps curls, triceps kickbacks, leg extensions, and almost any movement that requires you to put your butt in contact with anything. These movements have little bearing on reality. When fate calls on you to sprint down the block, pick up a fallen pedestrian, and hump a mile to the emergency room, you’ll find that all the “arm days” in the world won’t make you equal to the task. On the other hand, a strong deadlift, a decent squat, and a large dose of metabolic capacity would let you pass this hero test with flying colors.

Those of us who’ve been thoroughly exposed to CrossFit have a strong intuitive concept of functional movement. We know it when we see it. Our reality-based acid test begins and ends with an instantaneous assessment. If a movement is quick, powerful, and performed over a long range of motion, it’s probably functional. If it’s slow, weak, and truncated, it’s probably not.

As useful as this black and white characterization of movement may be, it is entirely too limited to apply to serious athletic training. After all, most athletes begin their careers performing slow, weak movements over a limited range of motion. Only through years of coaching, practice, and hard training do they become quick and powerful. It would be unfair to assume that our beginners are engaging in non-functional movement simply because they’re slow or temporarily limited.

The evolution from beginner to athletic stud follows a predictable path—a hierarchy of functional movement. Here, I’m going to describe that the hierarchy, using the barbell movements as a framework for explanation. Barbell movements lend themselves to easy description, and serve as great examples of the progressions inherent in functional movement. Nonetheless, the concepts presented here are not limited to barbell exercises—with a little creativity, they can be applied to nearly any type of movement as a gauge of athletic progress.

On the first tier of functional movement, we find two example exercises: the press and the back squat. Both are full-body, multi-joint movements, criteria that must be satisfied before I’m willing to call anything “functional”. Further, they are performed while standing. This third criterion may or may not be necessary to call a movement “functional” (depending on the person you ask and their fondness for the bench press), but I lean toward its inclusion.

The press begins with the barbell resting across the front deltoids and the athlete’s hands just outside shoulder width. Using only the elbow and shoulder joints (and the attendant muscles, of course), the athlete presses the bar overhead to full lockout, followed by a return to starting position along the same path. This movement has several features salient to our discussion. It is performed slowly, it involves two comparatively minor joints, and it covers a small range of motion. These features place it at the bottom of our hierarchy. Taken together, they indicate relatively low power output, a measure that I put forth as the ultimate arbiter of functionality.

Power output is equal to force multiplied by distance divided by time. For the sake of a good visual, it looks like this:

Power = (Force x Distance)/Time

We know that the press is performed slowly, so time is a large number in our power equation. Conversely, distance is small, as the press only covers a few feet. Force is also small, as the muscles and joints employed in the movement are relatively small, compromising the amount of force that can be generated. When time is large and force and distance are small, the resulting power output is also small.

Contrast this with the back squat. Like the press, this movement is performed slowly and involves two joints. It covers a similar distance in a similar amount of time. Unlike the press, the joints involved—the hip and the knee—are prime movers. These are major joints surrounded by large muscles capable of moving tremendous amounts of weight.

This changes the dynamic of our power equation substantially. Because the muscles surrounding the hip and the knee have a large cross-section, they’re capable of generating a lot of force, substantially increasing power output when compared to the press. For this reason, the squat is more functional than the press, although it belongs to the same two-joint, slow-moving family. As a reality check, we squat and stand dozens of times every day, but we’re less often called upon to push heavy objects overhead. This colloquial check of “functionality” meshes nicely with our theoretical definition.

The second tier of the hierarchy brings the push press and the squat clean. Like our first tier movements, both are full-body multi-joint movements performed from standing. The push press is exactly like the press, except the movement is initiated with the hip and the knee rather than with the shoulder and the elbow. The athlete holds the barbell across the front deltoids, dipping and driving with the lower body. Momentum from this motion is transferred through the torso into the barbell, sending it skyward. As the barbell elevates, the athlete presses upward, locking out the bar overhead. Upon completion, the barbell is returned to the starting position.

Note the features of the push press: it is performed quickly and involves four joints—the hip, the knee, the shoulder, and the elbow. It also covers a slightly larger distance than the press. Referring back to the power equation, we see that these factors indicate a higher power output than the press—time is reduced, and force and distance are increased. Therefore, the push press is theoretically more functional than its first-tier cousin. Again, a quick reality test confirms our findings: a movement that allows you to boost comparatively more weight overhead is certainly more useful in day-to–day life than its less-loaded counterpart.

Like the push press, the squat clean is a quick movement involving four joints. The barbell starts on the floor with the athlete in a quasi-crouch behind it, hands just outside shoulder width. The athlete deadlifts the bar to mid-thigh and explodes violently upward, simultaneously extending the knees and hips while shrugging the shoulders. She then pulls under the barbell, landing in a full squat with the bar racked across the shoulders, and returns to standing.

The squat clean covers a large distance very quickly. The bar moves from the ground to shoulder height in scarcely more time than it takes to complete a push press, and the dynamic nature of the movement allows the athlete to lift absurdly large loads. This combination of speed, distance, and load indicates a very high power output and a correspondingly high degree of functionality. The real life utility of the movement supports this contention—the squat clean allows otherwise unmanageable loads to be shouldered and carried, a benefit with nearly limitless applications.

The third and final tier of our hierarchy represents the highest level of functional movement, containing the snatch and the clean and jerk. Like the preceding exercises, these are full-body, multi-joint movements performed from standing. They take the critical traits of the second tier exercises—quickness, load, and range of motion—and push them to the limits of human capability. Each uses the hip and knee to transfer the load to the shoulder and elbow, and moves the barbell through the entire range of motion available to the athlete.

The snatch is very similar to the squat clean, but the barbell does not stop at the shoulders. Instead, it is brought overhead in one swift movement. Taking a wide grip, the athlete deadlifts the bar to hip height, explodes upward, and pulls herself under, catching the bar in the bottom position of the overhead squat. She then returns to standing with the bar overhead.

The speed of the movement is comparable to that of the squat clean, but the barbell covers a much larger distance. The load lifted is smaller, amounting to 70-80% of that of the squat clean. Greater distance and lesser load combine to put the snatch on par or slightly ahead of the squat clean in terms of power output, indicating greater or equal theoretical functionality according to our hierarchy. A quick reality check throws this finding into doubt—would anyone snatch something from the ground to overhead when given an alternative? An examination of the final movement in the hierarchy, the clean and jerk, answers this question with a resounding “No!”

The clean and jerk begins with a squat clean, bringing the barbell from the floor to the shoulders. The athlete then pauses before launching the bar upward using a dip and drive. As the bar travels vertically, the feet are split fore and aft, and the athlete pushes under the barbell, catching it at arms’ length overhead. The athlete then recovers, bringing the feet side-by-side with the barbell at full extension.

The clean and jerk is slower than the snatch due to the mid-movement pause. Taken out of context, this might indicate a lower power output for the former movement. In actuality, the pause allows the athlete to handle a much larger load, overcoming the power-robbing effect of the delay. The effect of the larger load, combined with the fact that the barbell travels further due to the shoulder width grip, results in a higher overall power output than the snatch and indicates higher theoretical functionality. Using a reality-based definition, the functionality of the clean and jerk is undeniable. It allows an athlete to take a tremendous load—as much as three times bodyweight—and boost it overhead. Again, the applications are only as limited as your imagination.

Throughout the hierarchy, I’ve been hammering three core concepts: speed, load, and range of motion. In general, high-speed movements performed under heavy loads over a complete range of motion represent the apex of functionality, and should be held up as the end goal of athletic development. Getting to this point requires a measured progression through the hierarchy, gradually increasing speed, load, and range of motion according to the readiness of the individual athlete. Exercises should always be chosen that maximize these variables—multi-joint over single-joint, large joint over small joint, fast over slow.

CrossFit has taken most of the guesswork out of proper exercise selection. Indeed, “functional movement” is a watchword within the programming, and the majority of our exercises exhibit qualities indicative of high power output. Not surprisingly, these movements are easily transferable from the gym to the street, passing our final test of functionality. It isn’t hard to imagine a scenario in which ability to lift, throw, run, climb, and jump powerfully might be desirable or even necessary. In fact, some of CrossFit’s most demanding adherents live this reality every day. They pass the hero test regularly,
serving as living proof that non-functional movement has no place in a results-driven program.

EC Synkowski of CrossFit Boston drives under a split jerk.

2007-07-13T22:50:00.001+01:00

How to Use Chalk

Chalk is a very valuable thing in the gym. It allows us to grip the ungrippable. Despite management’s unmitigated understanding of this fact, CrossFit Boston has been without chalk for two weeks.

Imagine an industrial accident at the Johnson & Johnson baby powder factory, and you’ll have a good idea of what the gym looked like after our run-in with “Murph” a few weeks back. Ghostly white palm prints covered the floor is dozens of places, made of that singularly goopy combination of chalk and sweat that requires sandblasting to remove. A nice radius of ultra-fine chalk granules completed the effect.

Imagine cleaning that mess with a half-destroyed sponge mop, and you’ll understand my motives for non-replacement.

Resentment aside, it was a stupid idea. In fact, it was the kind of idea that tort lawyers love. Two nights ago, a good friend and fellow CrossFitter landed on his head after slipping off the pullup bar, going skull-to-irrigation box before crying quietly in the corner. Feeling thankful for his lack of a concussion and the negligence clause in our membership waivers, I spent a whopping $10.50 on a pound of chalk. After removing a used band-aid and a discarded mouthpiece from the repurposed buckets, I added a few blocks of Bison Magnesium Carbonate.

We now have chalk.

What we don’t have is a decent understanding of how to use it. Unlike sex, money, and good friends, it is possible to overdo chalk. The propensity to dip both hands in the bucket, coat them like soon-to-be-fried chicken, and throw them at some fitness apparatus seems like a club sport here at CrossFit Boston.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am here to save you from yourselves. A little bit of chalk goes a long way, and there is a proper way to use it. Chalking your entire hand, from the wrist to the fingertips, is not it. Have you ever gripped anything with the heel of your hand? If so, you’ve overcome the nuisance of the opposable thumb, and I’d like to have a few words with you about an endorsement deal with Again Faster.

The only part of your hand that requires chalk is the part that contacts the bar. This area starts just below the base of the fingers and continues up to the third knuckle. Take a block of chalk, put it on your calluses, swipe upward until you hit your fingertips, and stop. Put the block of chalk down. Now, take your non-chalked hand, rub it against the chalked one, and go about your workout.

You will now be able to grip the ungrippable, and my homicidal tendencies will remain in check for the duration of your training session. Maybe.

Picture of CrossFit Boston after the chalk incident, courtesy of www.iir.com. Okay, it might be a picture of a meth lab with inadequate safety protocols, but who's counting?

2007-07-11T18:10:00.001+01:00

Don’t Suck

I have a very annoying tendency, as does the rest of the gym-going, supplement-taking, hard-charging public. When I find something that works, I quit doing it.

I can’t claim the credit for recognizing this phenomenon, but I may be the all-time supreme practitioner. In the last month, I’ve managed to stop every habit that leads to good athletic performance. I’m not eating well, I’m sleeping six hours a night, I haven’t stretched a lick, my masseuse doesn’t remember my name, and I train twice a week. In other words, I’ve taken everything that works and turned it on its head.

What’s worse, my excuse for doing so is lame. Please hold the sympathy cards—I’m spending twelve hours a day running a CrossFit gym. The weirdness of this phenomenon deserves some mention. I’m spending sixty-plus hours a week in the gym and getting less fit. Seems odd, doesn’t it?

They say the first step to recovery is recognizing that you have a problem. For me, recognition came in the form of a missed 155-pound power clean. Not only did I miss it, it hit me in the chin on the way up. Luckily, Sam was the only other person in the gym, and she wasn’t watching at the time.

I knew things were getting bad, so I decided to do what any rational person would do. I strapped on a 20-pound vest and had a go at “Murph”. Running two miles and performing one hundred pull-ups, two hundred pushups, and three hundred squats in an hour is not a good idea. I don’t care what they told you.

Fast forward a week, and you’ll find me lying on a foam roller with a look on my face that would be right at home on the mug of a wounded bullfighter. The knots in my legs have literally pulled my left hip out of the socket, and I’m walking like a duck with vertigo.

The lesson is simple: there are a few things that lead to fitness, and a whole bunch of things that will turn you into a big pile of useless. If you stumble upon those things that work, keep doing them. Eating right, sleeping nine hours a night, stretching regularly, training on a schedule, and getting the occasional deep tissue massage are all on that list. Drinking coffee like there's a shortage, sleeping like a PTSD victim, and eating 200 calories a day are not.

There are other things that work. In fact, there’s a whole bunch of them, but they’ll usually be variations on a theme that can be boiled down to a few words. Practice squats, snatches, cleans, sprinting, and gymnastics, and follow up with rest, nutrition, and a healthy social life. You will not suck. Guaranteed.

If you continue these practices indefinitely, you might even qualify to run a CrossFit gym. Anyone looking for an internship?

Picture is me on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, shortly before I started to suck. For a look at the evil that is "Murph" with a 20-pound vest, check out Sammy and the CF Boston Crew grinding it out. Needless to say, Sam has none of my fitness problems.

2007-06-11T14:31:00.001+01:00

Welcome to the OTC

I recently spent four days and three nights at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, where I was fortunate enough to observe the Resident Weightlifters in action. They are awesome. Their overwhelming athleticism is irrefutable evidence of the value of Olympic weightlifting, and provides instant incentive for any coach to include it in his or her programming.

Successful performance of the Olympic movements requires a large load to be moved over a long distance very quickly. High levels of strength, speed, and skill are brought to bear on a barbell, a controlled explosion that results in otherworldly amounts of weight being locked out overhead.

I thought I knew what this looked like. I've watched hundreds of videos of elite weightlifters at all levels of international competition, but pixels cannot to justice to the speed with which these guys move under the bar.

Natalie Woolfork, a 63-kilo lifter with more than a few American Records under her belt, gave an unscheduled clinic in the clean and jerk. She moved 105 kilos like she was throwing around a training bar, exhibiting great balance and timing through all of her lifts. To say I was impressed would be a criminal understatement.

I've read myriad criticisms of the US Team, including implications that they don't train hard enough to shine on the world stage. I'm calling bullshit. The sessions I observed on Friday were absolutely electric, and most of the athletes were only lifting around 80%. These guys spent the a.m. session power cleaning, squatting, jerking, and high pulling, and came back six hours later to perform the competition lifts. There were 100-pound women in that room working harder than any 200-pound firebreather I've ever seen. Casey Burgener was jerking 220 kilos like you and I do 95-pound thrusters. These guys are not taking it easy.

Inspired, Dave Picardy and I hit the platforms on Saturday morning for some technique work. We worked through our three-position snatches and three-position cleans, hammering good extension and a hard pull-under over and over again. We never even touched a bumper, and I was sweating my ass off.

Over the last three weeks, I've worked with four Oly coaches, ranging from a Club Coach to an Olympic Team Coach, and not a single one of them was worried about how much weight I had on the bar. It all boiled down to perfect technique executed with flawless consistency.

Removing the ego from weightlifting is a hard thing to do. Your worth as a lifter is indelibly connected to your total. Taking the necessary steps to ensure that technique is perfect before piling on the weight requires a heavy dose of humility. Nonetheless, I have no doubt that my totals will go up as my technique gets dialed in.

I can't get you in the OTC, and I can't give you the inspiration that the residents gave me, but I can impart two lessons: humility and speed. Don't worry about how much weight you're moving, and get under that bar as fast as humanly possible. The latter involves the rapid firing of the hip flexors in conjunction with a hard pull on the barbell. If you're letting gravity win the race to the floor, you're not going to make your lifts. Go faster!

Here's a quick look at Casey Burgener, Natalie Woolfolk, and a whole bunch of OTC Residents. If this doesn't make you want to grab a barbell, I don't know what will.

All photos and video by the author, courtesy of the fine people of USA Weightlifting. If you'd like to get involved, give the National Office a call at (719) 866-4508 or find your local club at www.usaweightlifting.org.

2007-05-18T17:07:00.000+01:00

A Few Truths

The following list stems from my recent successes and failures as an athlete and a coach, and I hope you find it useful. Because it is my list, it is more for me than it is for you, but there is no harm in sharing.

1.) It is always possible to work harder. Not necessarily longer or more often—just harder.

2.) If you try to accomplish everything, you won’t accomplish anything. Pick a single goal, and dedicate yourself to achieving that goal.

3.) The further you go from your home gym, the more likely you are to run into someone who is faster, stronger, and more powerful than you. Travel, and bring your humility.

4.) You must surround yourself with those who share and support your goals. If your friends scoff when you leave for the gym at 5 a.m., get new friends.

5.) You cannot coach yourself. “Coaching by mirror” is a great way to know what a movement looks like and a horrible way to know what a movement feels like.

6.) You need to analyze your training, qualitatively and quantitatively. If you don’t know why you’re doing what you’re doing, stop doing it.

7.) On a related note, human beings are capable of rationalizing anything. If you go looking for proof that you’re on the right track, you’ll find it.

8.) Easy fixes are few and far between. If it’s easy, chances are it’s incorrect, incomplete, or both.

9.) It is human nature to get where you want to be and immediately stop doing the things that got you there. This is a fantastic way to stay right where you are.

All lessons can’t be bright and cheery. Get rid of the crap that’s holding you back, and have the courage to realize that a healthy dose of self-criticism can go a long way toward making you a better athlete. We all need a kick in the ass once in a while.

Go faster!

Picture of a confident lifter in free fall, courtesy of dynamic-eleiko.com.

2007-05-15T00:13:00.000+01:00

A True Maximum

Successful barbell training has several components. In addition to intelligent program design and raw strength, it requires mastery of technique. Without proper technique, force is not used optimally, and an artificial performance ceiling is imposed on the trainee.

All decent coaches know this, and thus spend countless hours drilling proper movement patterns into their athletes. CrossFit is no different. “Chest up, butt back, heels down” is a refrain that I repeat dozens of times every day at CrossFit Boston, whether teaching the squat, the push press, or the thruster. My athletes are equally likely to hear “knees out” and “track the toes” as they are to breathe heavy or need a drink of water.

These cues are directed at everyone, even the most advanced trainees. Proper movement requires constant repetition and reinforcement. In this cycle of correction and reinforcement, I sometimes lose sight of the next step—teaching the proper way to express maximal strength.

Once technique is sufficiently mastered, the athlete must learn to incorporate bodily tension into the lifts. A mechanically sound lift without ample tension is necessarily sub-maximal, as tension has a synergistic effect and will allow the athlete to move a relatively greater amount of weight. This happens due to some simple physical laws.

Force is produced through muscular contraction, moving from the core to the extremities. It must travel through the body before it reaches the source of external resistance—in this case, the barbell. Some of this force is lost as it dissipates into within the body, absorbed by lax muscles and non-contributing tissue. The remaining force travels through its primary pathway, the skeletal system, finally arriving at the barbell and causing movement. Obviously, we’d like to direct as much of the original force as possible to the barbell, minimizing the amount lost within the body and maximizing the amount of weight we can lift. This is achieved through hardening the tissue around the skeletal system through tension generation. When tension is maximized, the trainee is able to express the full limits of his or her strength.

Teaching athletes to create tension is relatively simple. We focus on five areas—the lungs, the abdomen, the butt, the hands, and the feet.

The first priority is creating a rigid torso, as all barbell movements depend on the torso in one way or another. The trainee is instructed to inflate the lungs while pulling the chest upward and outward in an exaggerated display of manliness. This is a practice the old-time bodybuilders refer to as “chest expansion”, and we can be thankful that they got one thing right. It turns the heretofore non-contributing lungs into an internal brace, replacing the liability of empty space with an asset capable of transmitting force. It also serves to retract the upper back, the usefulness of which becomes obvious after completing the subsequent step. The trainee then contracts the abdominal wall and the obliques as if anticipating a blow to the stomach. This completes the hardening of the torso, as the retracted upper back will now spontaneously fire off in concert with the lats, creating a rigid structure throughout the entirety of the upper body.

Next, the trainee contracts the glutes. Tension in the glutes will simultaneously cause the lower back and the hamstrings to contract, effectively creating a bridge between the torso and the legs and turning the body into a single unit. Note that this is only done with movements that begin with concentric loading, such as the deadlift and the press. It is self-defeating to contract the glutes prior to eccentric movements such as the squat or the dip portion of the push press, as a “tight butt” will prevent the hip flexors from doing their job and pulling the trainee downward.

The final piece of the puzzle is the limbs. They represent the last opportunity for force to be lost, and must be made as rigid as possible. This is easy. Simply crush the barbell with the hands and grip the floor with the toes. The arms, shoulders, and lower legs will all contract, surrounding the limb bones with fully hardened muscle.

This sequence of events, from inflating the lungs to gripping the floor, should only take a few seconds. At this point, the trainee is burning brain cells by the moment, inflated lungs depriving the brain of precious oxygen and contracted muscles causing blood pressure to shoot through the roof. It is imperative that the lift be completed as quickly as possible. Once past the sticking point, muscular tension should be held while the inflated lungs are slowly allowed to deflate, restoring the flow of oxygen to the body. This invariably happens toward the end of the lift, as leverages become more advantageous to the trainee, and the weight becomes easier to support.

For higher repetition efforts, it is necessary to generate and release tension in a cycle, so that maximum tension occurs at the same time as maximum exertion. This is fairly intuitive once the trainee is competent at creating and maintaining tension. Inevitably, those most skilled in this practice will have the best chance of performing multi-repetition efforts at a high percentage of one-rep maximum.

Like proper biomechanical technique, tension generation is a skill that must be learned, refined, and reinforced. Repeated practice will result in ever-increasing efficiency, allowing larger loads to be lifted. Trainees are often surprised by the difference that five minutes of attention to this matter can make. Formerly latent strength manifests itself in a rash of new personal records, and I’m decried for not giving up this “secret” sooner. Now you know. Next time, take a deep breath and ride it all the way to true maximum effort.

Go faster!

2007-05-02T19:52:00.000+01:00

Tracking School

Keeping a workout log is not sexy. It’s not as much fun as a heavy deadlift or a smartly executed jerk, so most of my athletes refuse to do it. This is my fault.

I beg and cajole and make a complete mockery of any man, woman, or child who is unable to quote their one-rep maxes or previous personal records from memory, but I never actually force anyone to record their workouts, a process that would speed up recollection significantly.

As a result, I often have athletes spinning their wheels while we try to figure out reasonable loads and modifications for any given workout. Clearly, this is unacceptable.

In leiu of purchasing a cattle prod, I’m going to try to reason with them—and by extension—you. There are at least a few dozen good reasons to complete a log, and you’re going to learn about a few of them today.

Even if you are diligently recording every squat, pull-up, thruster, and sprint, you’re not doing it right. Data in and of itself is useless. It must be qualified and analyzed if it’s going to do you (and your instructor) any good. For this reason, I’m going to share a few metrics that will make your log a lot more useful.

The first step to keeping an effective log is to get rid of your computer. The internet has given us blogs and websites and forums, all of which allow an athlete to store workouts and times in digital format. Many of you have undoubtedly embraced this technology and all the attendant bells and whistles that come along with it, like calorie counters and food logs. Good for you!

Now turn that damn thing off.

When was the last time you had your laptop next to the platform? Ever try to check a personal record online while your hands are covered in chalk and the sweat is pouring off your forehead? I didn't think so.

A good notebook and a pen will do just fine. Start by recording the movements, repetitions, loads, and times for your workouts. Record all four of these metrics, regardless of the type of workout you complete. This data is the raw material for later analysis, and must be kept religiously. A word of caution: do this immediately after your workout. A hastily completed entry, written four days after the fact, won’t do you a lick of good. Your notoriously inaccurate mind will betray you at its earliest possible convenience, typically about a half-hour after you leave the gym. This applies to strength workouts as well. Even if you’re flinging around some iron (or in our case, rubber), start a stopwatch and note the time to completion (as well as movements, repetitions, and loads) before you hit the showers.

If you’re one of the folks who read the first paragraph of this article and figured it wouldn’t apply to you, listen up. Your workout log is nothing but a glorified paperweight unless you do something with your data, and it’s only marginally useful with the data you have so far.

In addition to movements, reps, loads, and times, we need three additional pieces of information—subjective intensity, time since last workout, and bodyweight.

Subjective intensity is a personal measure of how difficult the workout was to complete. For our purposes, “today kicked my ass” is inadequate. We need to attach a number to a feeling, and we’ll do this using a Likert scale. You’ve undoubtedly seen these, although you probably didn’t know they had a name. Hospitals use them to assess patient pain levels, and psychologists use them to propagate half-truths and dubious correlations upon the world.

The Likert Scale looks like this:

All you do is pick the number that corresponds with your immediate feelings regarding the workout, and write it down.

Time since last workout should be measured in hours, not days. Given that most serious athletes are working out six or seven times a week, a day-based data set isn’t worth spilling ink over. On the other hand, knowing the number of hours since your last workout provides you with a great way to determine the relationship between subjective intensity, recovery time, and performance. I’ll show you how in a few moments.

Bodyweight is easy. Step on the scale, step off the scale, and write down your weight. You don’t need to do this very often, provided that you are not trying to diet down or bulk up. A rough estimation will do nicely, as long as it’s consistent.

If you’ve followed me this far, you now have seven pieces of information that you’re recording each and every time you set foot in the gym:

1.) Movements
2.) Repetitions
3.) Loads
4.) Time to Completion
5.) Subjective Intensity
6.) Time Since Last Workout
7.) Bodyweight

A typical entry for me might look like this:

5/02/07

Completed: 1 hr, 5 min
Intensity: 6
Time Since Last: 22 hours
BW: 165

Clean and Jerk
5 x 3 x 70% (135)
4 x 3 x 80% (155)
3 x 3 x 90% (170)
1 x 3 x 95% (180)

Given this information, I can calculate a few things right off the bat which allow me to determine the objective intensity of the workout. (I stole this calculation straight off the pages of Coach Rip’s new book “Practical Programming”, if anyone is looking for references and not finding them.)

The first calculation is total volume, or how much weight I moved. Total volume is an aggregate of sets multiplied by reps multiplied by weight.

Set 1: 5 x 3 x 135 = 2025 pounds
Set 2: 4 x 3 x 155 = 1860 pounds
Set 3: 3 x 3 x 170 = 1530 pounds
Set 4: 1 x 3 x 180 = 540 pounds
Total Volume = 5955 pounds

Next, I calculate an average weight per repetition:

5955 pounds/39 reps = 153 pounds/rep

Then, I simply divide average weight per repetition by my 1 rep max, multiply by 100, and come up with an objective measure of the intensity of my workout.

[153 pounds/190 pounds] * 100 = 81%

This little number is incredibly useful when I’m trying to plan my next workout or write a full-out training program, especially when used in conjunction with my subjective intensity measure, my bodyweight, my recovery level, and time to completion.

The key to using these numbers effectively is to have a large data set. You’ll need to accumulate a month or so of data before it will be of any use, and more data is better than less. Follow along with me here.

Let’s say that my above entry was Day One of my training program (it wouldn’t be, but forget that for a minute). Let’s say that the next day, Day Two, I go again hard, and move 6200 pounds in 40 repetitions, coming up with an average weight per rep of 155 pounds and an objective intensity of 82%. My subjective intensity is a 10, and the time since my last workout is 22 hours.

Looking at the relationship between Day One and Day Two, I can see that very little has changed. My objective intensity and average weight per rep is constant, and my rest period hasn’t changed. The only meaningful change is my subjective intensity, which skyrocketed from a 6 to a 10. Referring back to my Likert scale, I’ve moved into the realm of “Ridiculous”.

Being the smart trainer/athlete that I am, I now know that I cannot handle two back-to-back days at ~80% 1RM without a huge jump in subjective intensity. Taking it one step further, I can theorize that my rest period was inadequate. This theory would be bolstered if it took significantly longer to perform the Day Two workout, say an hour and a half rather than 65 minutes. If the larger pattern warranted it, I might even conclude that my program is inappropriate for my experience level, and a less intense program might be necessary.

This is an awfully convenient example. I constructed it out of thin air, so it should be. In reality, you’ll be looking for patterns in the numbers over time that will allow you to evaluate your training status and avoid overtraining, and these patterns might not always be obvious. My example offers a clear indication of too much work in too little time, unless of course, the larger pattern indicates that this amount of stress drives improvement.

If you wanted to take it one step further, you could use this method to evaluate how appropriate any prewritten program is for your skill level. Simply calculate the objective intensity for each workout, the prescribed rest periods between workouts, and see how they relate to your current program. If the Again Faster Workout from Hell operates at an average objective intensity of 85% with 24 hour breaks between workouts, and your current program has an objective intensity of 70% with 36 hour breaks (and is producing results!), the AFWFH is not something you should be doing.

The key to effective training is to keep objective intensity as high as possible while maintaining subjective intensity at manageable levels, simultaneously observing constant increases in one-rep max. Whew. That’s a loaded sentence, and entire books have been written about it (like Rip’s). Keeping a decent log is the first step toward achieving this effective training.

I could interject a whole bunch of platitudes here, but I’ll spare you. Suffice to say that knowing your training history is a prerequisite to effective training, and you’re not going to remember everything you need to know. Write it down, and stop spinning your wheels. If you’re ready for it, do a little math, and think of new ways to evaluate your training using numbers. You won't waste expensive training time with ineffective programs, and your gym time will become exponentially more productive.

Go faster!

Picture courtesy of kemeri.gov.lv. “Practical Programming for Strength Training” by Mark Rippetoe and Lon Kilgore is available though the Aasgaard Company. It is the best $22.00 I've spent in a long time, and I wholeheartedly recommend picking up a copy.

2007-04-25T18:14:00.000+01:00

Thirty Days to Freedom

When I’m in front of a group of athletes, teaching basic barbell movements, the nuances of the sprint, or proper kipping technique, I’m an expert. I tell them what I know, and I hold it out there as gospel. They usually become better athletes for it, and it makes me very happy.

Still, it turns out that I don’t know a damn thing. When I hit the platform to clean and jerk or throw up a few snatches, I feel like an utter and complete novice. When I set my back on the bench for a few presses, I feel as weak as the first time I set foot in a gym. I attempted a one-legged squat the other day, and I would’ve fallen on my ass if I wasn’t holding onto the pull-up bar uprights.

I get a similar feeling when I read the works of the masters. I’m not talking about Milton, Moliere, and Shakespeare. I’m talking about the guys who have been slinging iron and pounding plywood longer than I’ve been alive—Mark Rippetoe, Glenn Pendlay, John Drewes, and Bill Starr make me feel downright slow.

These men have accumulated decades of training wisdom, the type borne of witnessing tens of thousands of attempts, and they have the wherewithal to get their observations down on paper. When I read these treatises on lifting, I hope to absorb a tenth of what’s there, knowing that I’ll probably have to settle for less. Without tens of thousands of observations of my own, I can’t fully assimilate their knowledge.

These men made a commitment to strength training that I cannot match while working a nine to five.

So be it. In the name of progress, I’ve handed in my resignation. I’m trading a 401(k) and dental coverage for financial uncertainty and a shot at becoming a veteran of the iron game. Starting June 1st, I will be a full-time trainer, author, equipment vendor, and business manager, taking up a station in the back offices of Crossfit Boston.

With the blessing of my girlfriend, a $400 plane ticket, and a pair of lifting shoes, I’ll spend my first week on the job at the U.S. Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, taking the preliminary steps toward a USAW Club Coach Certification. It seems like as decent a start as any.

I don't have decades of time under the bar, but I’m working on it. In twenty years, I may stand in front of a group of athletes and actually know what I’m talking about. That’ll be a good day.

Go faster!

Picture of Coach Rip with Nicole Carroll, courtesy of Crossfit Eastside.

2007-04-16T20:57:00.000+01:00

Putting on the Pounds

Back in January, I started running off at the mouth about snatching bodyweight within six months. Further, I made this my only goal, and said that I would forsake all other pursuits until June.

Needless to say, my ADD-addled brain wouldn't allow me the type of laser-like focus this required, and my body had it's own mini-rebellion after a few weeks of training. My calves rolled themselves up into little knots and my shoulders hurt to the touch.

It took me a good month to realize my snatch grip was too wide and my chest/back were tremendously imbalanced. After a cycle of benching, a slight grip modification, and a few trips to the massage table, my body stopped its Olympic lifting-induced hissy fit.

Now I've got two months left, and I'm a full thirty pounds short of my goal.

The good news is that I can pull the requisite weight (165 on my last weigh-in) to my eyebrows, so it's just a matter of getting the third pull dialed in. Toward that end, I'm employing Dan John's "Big 21" program for the next three weeks.

The premise is simple: 21 reps of three separate exercises (clean and press, snatch, clean and jerk) performed three times a week.

This program has been beat to death all over the Interwebs, but I thought I'd post a spreadsheet for anyone who'd like to know exactly what I'll be doing for the next three weeks. If you'd like to join me, just plug your numbers into the yellow boxes.

Don't give up on me yet, kids. A 165-pound snatch may be close by.

Go faster!

Picture of Thanh Nguyen courtesy of IronMind. IronMind rocks.

2007-04-12T18:08:00.000+01:00

Overhauling the Engine

Here at Again Faster, my preoccupation with power is well documented. I’m not talking Napoleon-marches-on-Russia power, but rather power in the classical physics sense.

Power is equal to work over time, and is variously measured using watts, horsepower, foot-pounds per minute, joules, or any derivation thereof.

Power = work/time

This metric serves as a brilliant conceptual umbrella for explaining Crossfit. During any given workout, we’re trying to maximize power, either by increasing work, reducing time, or both. In a workout such as “Cindy” (as many rounds as possible in twenty minutes, five pullups, ten pushups, and fifteen squats), we’re holding time constant while we attempt to increase the amount of work performed, thereby increasing power. In a workout such as “Fran” (21-15-9, thrusters and pullups), we’re holding work constant while we attempt to minimize the amount of time it takes to complete—again, increasing power.

The power equation is simple, but deviously so. Before any athlete can maximize work or minimize time, he or she must maximize a third variable—strength.

When you begin Crossfitting, your strength base is the equivalent of a four-cylinder engine. Over time, you become more adept at recruiting this strength base to move external objects and your own bodyweight, and your power output goes up. You’ve tuned your engine.

Still, you’re driving a four-banger, and you’ll quickly reach the apex of your output potential. After all, you can only tune that bugger so much.

If you want to up your output further, you’ll need to get a bigger engine. This is where dedicated strength training comes into play. Heavy deadlifts, squats, presses, and Olympic lifts, practiced regularly and to the exclusion of metabolic conditioning, will give you this bigger engine. There are many programs that are effective in this arena. The Hatch Squat Program and the Performance Menu Mass Gain Program have both worked well for me in the past. I guarantee that six weeks of dedicated strength training will turn your four-banger into a V-6, and you’ll have whole new powerblock to tune.

If you’ve recently failed to set a personal record on any of the benchmark workouts, go get yourself a bigger engine through strength training. After six weeks, stop back by the Crossfit performance shop. There, you can tune your bigger engine to new levels of power output, expressing your increased strength through decreased WOD times and increased metabolic capacity.

Don’t be surprised if the first few weeks back from the squat rack are difficult. Your body will need some time to readapt to the wallop that is Crossfit. After a month of rebuilding your metabolic base, try those benchmarks again. If you don’t set a PR, I’ll sell this site to those fitness wizards over at Men’s Journal.

Go faster!

Picture courtesy of moparpowerclub.com. Hatch Squat Program courtesy of Coach Mike Burgener over at Mike's Gym. Performance Menu Mass Gain Template, created by Greg Everett and Robb Wolf and translated to Excel by Jeff Dale, courtesy of The Performance Menu.

2007-04-08T01:16:00.000+01:00

Unilateral Support

This is one of my favorite AF Articles from last year. I published it in the first days of Again Faster, and I'm pretty sure nobody read it. For the sake of your lifting prowess and my ego, let's try this again, shall we?

When was the last time you picked something up with one hand? Probably about two minutes ago. We do it all the time, yet our training is typically done with both hands.

The last time you pressed, cleaned, snatched, or deadlifted, you did it bilaterally. You gripped an loaded barbell with both hands, and did the movement. This pattern is not innate.

We're not programmed to do things with both hands. You are right- or left-side dominant. You use your dominant arm/hand/leg/foot for writing, throwing, kicking, pulling, and pushing.

This predilection toward one side carries over into bilateral movements.

When you do these movements, your dominant side does more work than your non-dominant side. This happens because the human body craves efficiency. Why push harder with the left arm, if the right arm can get the job done?

This efficiency of movement is self-reinforcing. Your right arm does more work than your left, receiving more of the strength gains from training. Because it gets more relative benefit from training, it continues to dominate your left.

The fix is simple. Unilateral movements.

If you're a Crossfitter, you've had some exposure to the one-arm overhead squat, split jerk, walking lunge, and snatch. These exercises require you to move an unbalanced load through a significant range of motion. They only utilize one side of the body at a time, forcing that side of the body to do the vast majority of the work. This precludes any help from the other side, dominant or not.

The weapon of choice for these exercises is either a dumbbell or a kettlebell. The kettlebell will slightly increase your lever length (distance from your shoulder to the center of mass of the external object) in the pull portion of the snatch and the clean, requiring you to do relatively more work than a dumbbell.

This relationship is reversed in during the jerk portion of the C&J, the overhead squat, and the walking lunge, where the kettlebell handle decreases lever length by placing the center of mass closer to your shoulder.

You should work with both of the dumbbell and the kettlebell--constant variety ensures adaptation and keeps things from getting stale.

In practice, you should always perform unilateral movements with both sides of your body. Do your reps with the non-dominant side first, and move to the dominant side later.

Fatigue builds when you're doing any exercise. By using your non-dominant side first, you ensure that fatigue will not prevent you from completing your prescribed reps.

Use a challenging weight. After you've mastered the mechanics of the movement, make sure you're using enough resistance on the non-dominant side to develop strength and power. If you're doing 10 reps per side, use a weight that represents your 12-15 repetition maximum for your dominant side. This will keep the non-dominant side working hard.

Gear your unilateral training toward closing the load gap, so that your repetition maximum is equal for each side.

In addition to helping correct dominance-related imbalances, unilateral movements will help you develop balanced rotational strength.

Rotational strength is called into play whenever we throw, kick, swing, or twist in any way. Nearly every sport I can think of requires its athletes to exhibit power while rotating through the sagittal plane.

When you have a weight extended overhead, using only one arm, a significant amount of the load is borne by your core on the side away from the load. If your right arm is extended overhead, your left-side obliques bear more load than your right-side obliques.

Grab a dumbbell, and do a one-armed overhead squat. Press your "up" shoulder to your ear, look at the weight, and rotate inward slightly as you descend into the squat. Concentrate on your torso. Which side is contracted more?

By overloading the obliques/lats on one side or the other, we develop the ability to use those muscles more effectively for rotation and stabilization. This ability transfers directly to sport.

Just as you're side-dominant, you also have a predilection toward rotating either clockwise or counter-clockwise. Early commentators in snowboarding, skateboarding, and rollerblading dubbed these rotations "natural" and "unnatural".

Working on eliminating the general dominance of one side of your body aids the elimination of rotational dominance. Elite athletes can rotate in either direction with ease. This skill differentiates truly great competitors in baseball, football, soccer, board sports, and gymnastics. It is the foundation of agility.

Unilateral training has obvious merit. We incorporate it into our workouts all the time.

A few weeks ago, we did a WOD geared toward unilateral development at Crossfit Topsfield. It's a barnburner.

For time:

10 kettlebell swings
20 one-armed overhead squats (10 left, 10 right)
30 one-armed split jerks (15 left, 15 right)
40 one-armed walking lunges (20 left, 20 right)
30 one-armed split jerks (15 left, 15 right)
20 one-armed overhead squats (10 left, 10 right)
10 kettlebell swings

Remember to start with your non-dominant side first. If you need an explanation of any of these exercises, shoot me an email using the link in the right sidebar.

If you want to get crazy with it, try a one-armed snatch, squat, clean, or press with the AF bar. It requires tremendous stabilization. I did a one-armed snatch with it yesterday during "Again Faster in Chains", and it almost knocked me on my ass.

That would've been embarrassing.

Go faster!

2007-03-28T18:29:00.001+01:00

Embrace the Pain

With Crossfit, physical proficiency comes quickly. A year into the program, an athlete who was overweight, weak, and deconditioned can expect to be lean, strong, and resilient.

Hesitancy and doubt are replaced by confidence and competency, and novel challenges become opportunities rather than obstacles. Somewhere along that path, the athlete realizes that progress is not limited by bodily capability—it is limited by mental capacity.

Becoming a top-tier athlete requires one to balance on the precarious edge between self-preservation and self-annihilation. The intelligent athlete leans toward preservation, as this ensures progress rather than injury. The problem comes when that athlete shies too far from the edge, forgetting that the body is a very hard thing to break.

This leads to the dreaded “sandbagging”—performing below maximum capacity in the name of self-preservation. I’m often faced with experienced athletes who give ninety percent rather than one-hundred percent. This is not a conscious act, but rather a syndrome that comes from two sources: the brain telling the body to stop and the athlete’s inability to override that signal.

Your brain is responsible for keeping you alive, and tends to overreact to external and internal stimuli. It sends pain signals to your conscious mind long before your body reaches mortal danger, and it does so for a very good reason: it doesn’t want you anywhere near death. The larger the margin (and the sooner you quit), the less likely it is that you’ll approach this point.

To reach the upper echelons of athletic performance, you must ignore this signal. Most athletes are nowhere near their breaking point, and can afford to do this.

Instructing your brain to shut up is as simple as short-circuiting the pain process. During intense exercise, your mind is blank and receptive. There is a virtual absence of conscious thought, allowing pain signals to come through like ambulance sirens. You have to add to the noise, dulling the incoming signals. You have to think.

Count your repetitions out loud. This will occupy your thought processes and prevent the wailing from shutting you down. Similarly, count your breaths during rest breaks. When fatigue forces you to put the weight down, give yourself five breaths and get back to it. The counting process will achieve two aims—it will drown out the pain signals and limit your mid-workout downtime.

This combination will inevitably lead to better WOD times.

I experimented with this process during a workout involving 150 repetitions of the most painful exercise on Earth—the dumbbell thruster. The athletes using a five-breath rest period and continuous counting decimated the times posted by an earlier group, exhibiting decisively superior power output. The better-performing athletes were less experienced than their competitiors, and by all accounts should have handed in less impressive performances.

Elite performances are predicated on pain tolerance. Discomfort must be embraced and overcome, and the brain must be retrained to send pain signals at higher and higher thresholds. As your body evolves, your mind must keep pace. If you can achieve this synergy, the mind and body will continually drive each other to new heights of athleticism.

Go faster!

Sisyphus charcoal courtesy of jillgeorgegallery.co.uk. Image edited by Again Faster.

2007-03-20T17:34:00.000+00:00

Mastering the Split Jerk

Few exercises possess the beauty and violence of action inherent in the split jerk. Executed correctly, this lift allows superhuman loads to be boosted overhead, placing it in the upper echelon of effective speed and power movements.

Like the snatch and the clean, it is incredibly difficult. Proper execution demands incessant practice and an unreasonable willingness to drop under hundreds of pounds of earthbound iron. At Crossfit Boston, we dedicate hours each week to practicing the split jerk, helping athletes overcome their counterproductive inclinations toward self-preservation.

The split jerk has three phases: the dip and drive, the catch, and the recovery. Problems can arise in any or all of these phases, and must be dealt with for the full potential of the movement to be realized.

The dip and drive phase is crucial to imparting momentum and elevation on the bar. Without this momentum, the catch could not occur.

With the barbell in the rack position, the athlete bends the knees to a quarter-squat, keeping the torso vertical. Quickly reversing direction, he snaps the hips open and drives upward on the barbell. This sends the barbell skyward, the distance it travels inversely related to its weight. At its apex, the barbell is momentarily weightless.

During this first phase, there are several critical points. The torso must be oriented vertically the entire time, and the feet should be directly under the hips. Any deviation from these positions will reduce the force transmitted to the barbell, and may invite injury. It is very rare that a trainee will be unable to achieve either of these positions, as the newbie’s ever-present lack of hamstring flexibility has little bearing on torso orientation during a quarter-squat. Simply coach the correct positions, and move on.

The most pervasive flaw among beginning split jerkers is a slow dip, especially when the weight starts to get heavy. They’ll descend at a rate that makes molasses look fast, and then attempt to drive the weight from a near standstill. This kills the stretch reflex coming out of the bottom, and unnecessarily limits the amount of weight that can be lifted. The stretch reflex should be harnessed and utilized through a rapid descent and reversal.

I typically coach my athletes to execute the dip and the drive at the same speed, and then I tell them they’re doing it too slow, regardless of the outcome. I want it in their heads that speed is paramount.

Full execution of the drive can be a problem, especially if an athlete becomes preoccupied with the subsequent descent into the catch. This is relatively rare, but hard to remedy. If you see this occurring in your own performance, use a light weight and eliminate the post-drive descent until you’re confident that you’re reaching full extension on the drive.

Without a solid catch, the lift is over. As the barbell moves upward from the drive, the athlete reverses direction, taking advantage of the momentary weightlessness of the load to push himself under the barbell. Simultaneously, his legs split front and back into a modified lunge, and the arms come to full extension. The head and chest thrust through the arms, and the athlete lands, weight locked out overhead.

The typical mechanical flaws that present during the catch are easy to correct. Most often, an athlete will fail to thrust the head and chest forward, causing a misalignment between his center of gravity and that of the barbell, making the weight very hard to control. I cue the correct movement by telling the athlete to push his chin toward the wall.

He may also fail to lockout the rear leg, introducing unnecessary slack into the system, or place the rear foot flat on the platform, compromising the depth of the lunge and therefore the amount of weight that can be successfully locked out. Correcting these flaws will take some drilling. Instruct the athlete to lock out the back knee and keep the heel off the platform. Also, coach him into the deepest lunge possible with correct mechanics. As a general rule, the lower he goes, the more weight he’ll be able to jerk. Ensure that the feet are at a tenable width—twelve and six are not good positions for stability.

Crossfit’s legendary Olympic Weightlifting Coach Mike Burgener has a simple correction for this flaw: place a piece of PVC pipe between the athlete’s feet at the outset. No one wants to land on a round pipe, and proper width will result.

The majority of difficulties with the catch phase are mental rather than physical. Understandably, beginning split jerkers have difficulty accepting the dangers of dropping underneath a heavy barbell. Surrendering their connection with the platform and splitting the feet fore and aft is alien and seemingly suicidal, and no amount of talking will overcome this fear. Beginners must learn to feel the movement in a penalty-free environment. Grab a broomstick and practice until the catch is automatic, and gradually add weight over the course of a few weeks.

The recovery is the final phase of the split jerk. The athlete must return to standing, feet side-by-side, with the weight locked out overhead. Anything else and the entire lift is red-lighted—dip, drive, catch and all.

During the recovery, the barbell stays in one place. The front foot slides to a position directly below the barbell, followed by the rear foot doing the same. This sequence is imperative to success. Excessive movement of either foot will irreparably change the combined center of gravity of the athlete and the barbell, support will fail, and the weight will come crashing down. The precariousness of the recovery is amplified by heavier weights, where the slightest misstep will result in failure.

Unfortunately for the coach, lighter weights will allow the athlete make the recovery with terrible mechanics. The rear leg may move first, sometimes all the way to the final recovery position, without a fatal loss of control. This is only possible under light weight, where the athlete’s strength is sufficient to overcome the rapidly changing combined center of gravity. More than any other cue, I find myself repeating, “Front foot, back foot” over and over again. Improper recovery should be quashed early on before it becomes habit, and you find yourself with an athlete who can’t stand up without dropping the bar.

The split jerk is an incredibly fast movement—all three phases are over within a few seconds, and success demands speed. Correct mechanics are the foundation on which this speed is built, and should be drilled to perfection.

One last thought: Sometimes everything goes wrong. Make your lift anyway!

Go faster!

Picture of Coach and Sage Burgener, mid-split jerk, courtesy of Crossfit.com.

2007-02-27T13:06:00.000+00:00

One Foot to the Toeboard

Here at Again Faster, we have a preoccupation with power. We measure our times, our repetitions, and our loads in an effort to calculate our athletic output to the nearest watt.

In the shot put, these calculations are unnecessary. Power output is evidenced by the farthest throw, an immediate visual measure that requires no pencils, paper, or formulas. The best athlete bombs the shot down the sector, and the gasp of the crowd is the only measure that matters.

Yesterday afternoon, I witnessed some of the best throwers in the world compete at the 2007 AT&T USA Indoor Track and Field Championships. The field was loaded, including two-time Olympic medalist John Godina, World Indoor Champion and #1 ranked Reese Hoffa, 2004 NCAA Indoor Champion Dan Taylor, and 2004 World Indoor Champion Christian Cantwell.

These guys are large, and they move fast. The massive indoor shot resembles a golf ball in the hands of these giants, and 65-foot throws are par for the course.

Reese Hoffa throws 69-plus.

The intricate footwork of world-class throwing puts incredible momentum on the shot, culminating in a drive and extension that sends the implement arcing outward at high speed. The violence of the throw is reminiscent of the third pull of the Olympic lifts, embodying the same devastating combination of speed and skill.

Cantwell continued his pursuit of the 75’10” world record with a Round One put of 71’3.5”, a throw that was unmatched for the rest of the competition. It was enough to secure him the men’s Visa Championship and a giant credit card worth $25,000, an enviable payday in the under-funded sport of professional track and field.

Hoffa took second with a 69’7” throw, and Taylor third with a 66’8” throw, neither man threatening Cantwell’s position at the top.

The final throw of the day belonged to Christian Cantwell. With the competition wrapped up, Cantwell stood in the ring, the shot extended overhead. The stands were shaking with the clapping of hundreds of spectators, the din reaching a crescendo as he lowered the shot to his neck and sank into his starting stance, beginning a blinding spin that culminated in the longest throw of the day.

Cantwell throws a bomb.

We screamed as the shot clanged off the backboards, only to see the official raise the red flag. The foul meant the throw would not be measured, despite the fact that it was easily over the 72’ mark. Cantwell would have to settle for his season-best mark of 71’9” and his gigantic check.

The applicability of throwing to elite fitness is obvious. Along with hip flexion and extension, throwing requires the athlete to harness rotational force to send an object as far as possible. Generating and maintaining rotational force requires tremendous strength throughout the torso, as the athlete must keep the body moving as a single unit throughout the throw. Any weak link severely compromises the end distance achieved.

We do not train the throws in the current Crossfit curriculum, perhaps to our own disadvantage. After witnessing the power and grace of the shot put, I believe that derivatives of the event could be useful in enhancing core strength, midline stabilization, and power expression, qualities that are perpetually lacking in our novice athletes.

John Godina in the ring.

Like every worthwhile athletic activity, power generation in the throws starts at the core and emanates outward, employing the largest muscles of the body in a multi-joint compound movement. We know from experience that this type of movement results in increased muscle mass, decreased body fat, and positive hormonal effects.

Given its similarities with our existing practices, incorporating throwing into the Crossfit training regimen is no-brainer. In fact, our preoccupation with power demands it.

Next time you wander in the door at Crossfit Boston, you may want to look to the sky—taking a shot to the head is never pleasant.

Go faster!

Lead picture of Dan Taylor.

2007-02-17T01:03:00.000+00:00

The Keys to the Kingdom

On the wall, directly over the lifting platform, a three-foot by three-foot piece of whiteboard records the accomplishments of the members of Crossfit Boston. The four best times for any given feat are recorded on that Board.

Last night, I got booted off the Board. I was number five.

It bugged the hell out of me, and it still does. Fortunately, I know exactly what went wrong, and I can fix it.

As a trainer, it’s my job to know the keys to elite fitness. I know them—back and forth and up and down and sideways. I just don’t follow them all that well. That changes now, today, right this minute. As far as I’m concerned, knowledge and action are the same damn thing, and I’m on the wagon.

The keys to elite fitness:

Consistency: Show up, whether you like it or not. Work out on a regular schedule. If it hurts, suck it up. If you can’t do it, learn.

Effort: When you can’t do the next rep, do it anyway.

Sleep: Nine-plus hours every night. Kill your subwoofer-owning-militant-whore-neighbor if you have to.

Diet: Zone with five times fat. No excuses. Weighing food is easy compared with the everlasting pain of a dead-f*cking-last performance.

Recovery: Roll it out, ice it down, tape it up, stretch it hard. You say you don’t do it because it takes too much time. You don’t do it because it hurts.

I’m not getting booted off that Board anymore. If you’re going to beat me, you’re going to have to experience cardiogenic asthma, hallucinatory states, and mild bouts of suicidal desire to get there. We’ll see who’s where when the smoke clears.

Go faster!

Picture courtesy of bclkeys.com.

2007-02-15T18:59:00.000+00:00

The Tactical Strength Challenge

Again Faster and Crossfit Boston are hosting a venue for the 2007 Tactical Strength Challenge. The competition begins at 10:00 a.m. on Saturday, March 3rd, immediately following the 9:45 a.m. weigh-in.

The TSC tests absolute strength, strength-to-bodyweight, and strength endurance using three events: the deadlift, deadhang pull-ups, and the kettlebell snatch. The competition will be refereed by myself and RKC Lynne Pitts of Crossfit fame.

The rules are as follows, posted directly from the Tactical Strength Challenge Website. They're not complicated, but we will be following them to the letter, and we expect all competitors to arrive with a basic knowledge of the event layout.

To register for the Tactical Strength Challenge, please complete a waiver and bring it with you on the day of the competition. Day-of-competition entries are at the referees' discretion.

The Rules:

Contest: The contest must be held on a single day. The events consist of a three-attempt powerlifting deadlift, pullups for max reps, and kettlebell snatches for max reps in a 5:00 time period. There are three competition classes: Men's Division, Men's Elite Division, and Women's Division. There may be separate awards for Masters (competitors over 50, same as the RKC, not the more common over 40) at the organizers' discretion; however, Masters lifters should lift in the same flights as other competitors. The weights used for pullups and snatches vary by competition class as described below.

The events must be contested in the order of deadlift, pullups, snatches. Each competitor must be allowed at least 15 minutes of rest between events but 30-60 minutes is recommended.

Scoring: In the deadlift, the winner is the competitor that successfully lifts the most weight. In the pullups and snatches, the winner is the competitor that successfully performs the most repetitions. The winner is determined by combined placement in the three events. For example:

If Lifter A finishes third in the deadlift, fifth in pullups, and second in snatches, his score is 10 (3+5+2).
If Lifter B finishes first in the deadlift; third in pullups, and third in snatches, his score is 7 (1+3+3).
The lowest combined score wins. In the above example, Lifter B would finish higher than Lifter A (7 is lower score than 10).

In the event of a deadlift tie, the lighter competitor places higher. In the event of a pullup tie, the heavier competitor places higher. In the event of a snatch tie, the tie stands. In the event of an overall tie (two or more lifters get same combined score), the tie stands.

Equipment: The equipment consists of a standard Olympic bar and plates, a 16kg, 24kg, or 32kg kettlebell, a pullup bar, a weight belt with a chain, and a timer. The pullup bar should be high enough so that tall competitors can use it without excessively bending their legs. It should also be sturdy enough to handle heavier competitors and kettlebells.

The weight belt with a chain is for weighted pullups in the Men's Elite Division. Competitors may use their own weightlifting or powerlifting belts for the deadlift event, but not for other events.

Deadlift: For the deadlift, the bar will be loaded to the weight the competitor specifies and placed on the ground. The competitor will approach the bar and lift it in one continuous motion. When the weight is fully locked out (knees and back fully straightened), the referee will give the "Down" command and the competitor will drop the bar or lower it under control.

The competitor has three attempts and may specify the same weight or a heavier weight in each successive attempt. The competitor may not request a lighter weight after missing with a heavier weight.

Pullups: In the Men's/Masters division and the Women's Division, bodyweight pullups are performed. A chinup grip, with the palms facing the lifter, is not allowed; the palms must face away. The grip may be thumbless or not, but most competitors find they do best with a thumbless grip.

In the Men's Elite division, pullups are performed with 22 lbs (10kg) attached to the competitor using a weight belt and chain. The total assembly (weight belt and plates) should weigh between 21 and 23 lbs and should be weighed before the competition. Any assembly of belt and plates in this weight range is official and will count for competition purposes or for TSC records.

For pullups, the competitor will approach the bar, grasp it with both hands, and settle into a dead hang with both arms fully straightened. (Competitors may initially stand on a block or box in order to reach the bar.) After settling into a dead hang, the competitor will pull with both arms, using no kipping or swinging, and pull up until the neck or the chest cleanly touches the bar. The competitor will then lower back to a dead hang and do another rep.

For each successful rep, the referee will count 1, 2, 3, and so on. The set is terminated when the competitor quits or fails to make three successive attempts.

Kettlebell snatches: In the Men's/Masters division, a 24kg kettlebell is used. In the Men's Elite division, a 32kg kettlebell is used. In the Women's Division, a 16kg kettlebell is used. Competitors may use chalk to improve their grip.

A snatch is defined as swinging a single kettlebell between the legs with one arm, bringing the kettlebell overhead in a single motion, and locking it out overhead with a straight arm. After each rep, the competitor will let the kettlebell fall in a single motion (without dropping the kettlebell to the chest or shoulder) and perform another rep. The knees must be locked out at the completion of the lift for the rep to count. The competitor may not use the non-lifting arm to assist the lift in any way - the lift does not count if the free arm or some other part of body touches the platform, the kettlebell, the working arm, the legs, or the torso.

The competitor has 5:00 to perform as many repetitions as possible. The referee will use a timer and tell the competitor when to begin. Once the timer starts, the competitor can snatch with either arm and switch arms as many times as he/she prefers. The competitor can also set the kettlebell down on the ground, rest, or pace on or around the platform (without disturbing other competitors). The set is terminated when the competitor quits or the 5:00 time limit expires. If the competitor violates another technical rule during performance of the set (for example, lowers the kettlebell to the shoulder), the set is not terminated, but the rep preceding the violation does not count. The competitor may resume performing repetitions provided that he/she complies with all relevant rules.

Referee's discretion: The rules of the TSC are basic and straightforward. A brief rules meetings should precede each event but should be brief and not legalistic. The referee may, at his/her discretion, disallow any unorthodox equipment or practice that he/she feels provides a competitor with an unfair advantage. The exact equipment or practice does not have to be disallowed specifically by these rules.

Now that that's out of the way, we hope you can make it! Lynne promises not to beat you--too badly. Crossfit Boston is located at 123 Terrace St., Roxbury Crossing, MA. We'll start the lifting at 10:00 a.m. sharp!

Go faster!

All pictures courtesy of www.tacticalstrengthchallenge.com.

2007-02-09T16:10:00.000+00:00

Caught Flat-Footed

Last night, I was watching the World Class Coaching DVD on the clean. I made it through the first hour before I had to shut it off.

My brain couldn’t assimilate the wealth of knowledge contained in the first sixty minutes of the video, let alone the following forty. Watching Shane Hamman clean four hundred pounds with the same dexterity as a ten-pound training bar was absolutely surreal. Cut-aways to Pyrros Dimas and Marc Huster at the 1991 World Championships only added to the effect.

Then the real bombshell. About twenty-five minutes in, the narrator said something like this:

“It is our opinion that the ankles should not extend during the second pull. Despite the fact that many world-class athletes employ ankle extension, we don’t believe it embodies the most efficient technique. Rising up on the toes shifts the center of gravity forward, making the clean more difficult. As the clean is refined, and heavier weights are lifted, we believe this movement will be discarded.”

Holy sh*t. What did he just say?

The video cut back to Hamman, throwing around four hundred pounds like he was warming up for jog in the park. Sure enough, the soles of his shoes remained parallel to the platform for the entire lift. Suddenly back at the World Championships, my eyes were glued to Dimas’ feet. Not a hint of ankle extension.

Watch Hamman at The 2000 North America, Central America and Caribbean Islands Weightlifting Championships:

The evidence was right there in front of me. The best lifters on the Planet employ a double-extension technique. The knees and hips extend, with the ankles continually dorsiflexed at ninety degrees.

The narrator didn’t do me the favor of explaining further, and I was left to rationalize this one on my own.

My bewilderment cleared up as I thought back to my USA Track and Field certification. The O-lifters were keeping their ankles rigid, much like sprinters and high jumpers. These track athletes maintain dorsiflexion because force transmission is compromised if the ankle is extended, and sprinting and jumping at an elite level requires maximal force transmission. They cannot afford a weak link.

Our Olympic lifters are doing the same thing. Any shock absorbing link between the platform and the barbell will compromise the amount of force the athlete can put on the bar, thereby limiting the amount of weight he can clean. Flexing the ankle to ninety degrees maximizes force transmission.

Coming up on the toes compromises another important attribute—balance. This action shifts the center of gravity forward and upward, away from the desired direction of travel. The bar path for a properly executed clean is upward and backward, with about four inches of rearward horizontal displacement. Any forward displacement of the body could compromise the athlete’s ability to rack the bar, as it would cause the barbell to move forward rather than backward.

I’ve had trouble with this myself, my cleans landing forward of their optimal racking position. Lincoln Brigham, a USA Weightlifting Coach out of Sedona, Arizona, theorized that my second pull wasn’t close enough to my body, and my elbow whip wasn’t fast enough, causing me to rack too far behind the bar.

Although these observations are undoubtedly true, I now believe that my extreme ankle extension is exacerbating the problem.

Fighting ankle extension is difficult, and requires an acute awareness of body position throughout the lift. Nonetheless, I've witnessed it in action with my own eyes, so it can't be sworn off as impossible. From this day forward, I’m abandoning triple extension in favor of a flat-footed approach to the clean.

If it's good enough for Shane, it's good enough for me.

Go faster!

Hamman profile picture courtesy of realsolutionsmag.com. Video of Hamman at the 2000 North America, Central America and Caribbean Islands Weightlifting Championships courtesy of Ticket2Sports.com via YouTube.

2007-02-04T15:03:00.001+00:00

Child's Play

There is a video of Pyrros Dimas floating around the internet. I’ve had it linked to Again Faster since our inception, because it’s absolutely beautiful. Among other things, it shows him power cleaning around 400 pounds.

Not power cleaning as in his femur didn’t make parallel. Power cleaning as in his knees barely bend.

I’ve watched this video upwards of twenty times, and it never ceases to amaze me. I’m no longer surprised at what he does—he’s a three-time Olympic Champion, after all—but rather what he does it with. This man only weighs 185 pounds. It’s predominantly muscle, but there’s only so much muscle you can pack onto a 185-pound guy and still have room left for organs and such.

One of the other assistant instructors at Crossfit Boston asked me to post the video in question to our WOD Blog on Friday morning. I tacked it up there, and barely gave it a second thought. The human brain has a wonderful ability to seek novelty and ignore banality, and I’d seen this video more often than I’d repeated lines from Fight Club.

Late on Friday afternoon, when the incoming email slowed to a trickle, I remembered the wonder that overcame me the first time I watched Dimas throw a barbell around. I shut down the various pieces of financial software that rule my 9 to 5, and I loaded up the video.

He’s only 185 pounds! This piece of trivia had bounced around in my head, unanalyzed and unacknowledged for over a year. This time, it slammed me upside the head.

There are two basic ways to get stronger. An athlete can develop larger muscles, or he can utilize more of the muscle mass he already has. The former process is known as hypertrophy, while the latter process is known as innervation. Either way, contractile force goes up, and the athlete brings more force to bear on the world around him.

Until Friday afternoon, I believed that innervation had a very limited scope. Like every other male on the planet, I thought I’d need to get bigger to get stronger. My daily observations seemed to prove it. Linebackers are stronger than wide receivers, bouncers are stronger than their patrons, and Vin Diesel could clearly kick the crap out of Paul Walker.

Then there’s Pyrros. He could probably fling a 260-pound man a pretty good distance and still have the pluck to pick the guy up and dust him off.

Using our traditional paradigm of lifter size and weight lifted, it would stand to reason that Pyrros would weigh something north of 225. He doesn’t, and the question becomes, “Why not?”

It’s accepted within lifting circles that high intensity/low volume sets lead to innervation without appreciable hypertrophy. An athlete lifting above 90% of his one-rep max is teaching his nervous system to fire his muscles in the exact order and duration necessary to complete the lift without signaling his body to grow.

The number of repetitions an athlete can perform at this intensity is necessarily limited, and the attendant damage to existing muscle fibers is limited as a result. When damage is limited, hypertrophy is limited.

Fortunately, the body’s ability to make additional neural connections with existing motor units is not. The athlete continues to get stronger through innervation.

Along with a few other elite Olympic Weightlifters, Dimas has taken this process to its logical end. These athletes have the ability to contract every ounce of muscle fiber in their possession, with such ferocity and completeness that power cleaning 400 pounds becomes child’s play.

They serve as a striking counterpoint to the idea that bigger is stronger. Next time you feel the urge to buy six bottles of Mass Gain 3000 or call me with complaints that your twelve-part bulking program isn’t working, remember that there are other ways to skin a cat. Load up the bar to 90% and bang out three reps. Repeat a couple more times, and call it a day. Someday, you might find yourself power cleaning 400 pounds.

Go faster!

Picture courtesy of abc.net.au. I believe the video is from Ironmind. If it is subject to any copyright, I sincerely apologize to Dr. Strossen for my role in its dissemination, and I encourage all of you to go subscribe to MILO right now!

2007-01-29T15:39:00.000+00:00

Interview with an Operator

The fitness needs of Special Operations personnel are extensive. For these folks, optimum physical fitness can mean the difference between life and death. Many have latched onto Crossfit as a means of attaining and maintaining this level of fitness.

I recently got the opportunity to sit down with a good friend and an eight-year veteran of Crossfit who serves our country in this capacity. He shared his take on fitness in the field, covert operations, and the rigors of Crossfit.

AF: You serve in the U.S. Navy as a Corpsman, and you’re also a Crossfitter. What kind of job do you do?

Op: I am a U.S. Navy Corpsman, a medic basically. I work with Marines. This last deployment I was with the MSPF element, which is the Maritime Special Purpose Force element that does VBSS, which is visit, board, search, and seizure of vessels in the ocean. We do hostage takedowns, and reconnaissance and surveillance of enemy personnel.

AF: How long have you been doing that?

Op: About the last year or so.

AF: Give me some background. What happens between the time when the mission comes down and you hit the ground?

Op: You get a warning order. You have this five-paragraph order. It basically states the commander’s intent, what he wants of you, your unit to accomplish on this mission. Approximate dates, times, probably get a photo of a high-value target you need to capture. You get routes. If you’re walking on foot, sometimes you get dropped off 5, 6, 7 kilometers away in the middle of a jungle, you need to walk to the area. You get walking routes, topographical maps, satellite imagery—you get all kinds of stuff as far as mission planning is concerned.

Then everybody gets together, all the key personnel in the unit get together, the platoon commanders, you got your element commander, the element executive officer, squad leaders, team leaders, and the Corpsmen also sit in. They need to know, if something goes wrong medically, where they need to rendezvous with you, how long is evac time, so you can pack your gear accordingly. You’re not going to walk out there with a hospital on your back.

AF: How much gear are you usually packing?

Op: I usually pack between 20 and 30 pounds of gear. Most of it’s water weight, because it’s IV bags, intubation kits.

AF: So hopefully you’re coming back as heavy as you went in?

Op: Yeah, absolutely. Absolutely. I spread load the stuff, too. I spin up most of my guys with how to administer IV solution, all that stuff, hypervolemic shock and all that stuff, so they know how to recognize it. At least, I think they do, I hope they do. When they recognize it, hey I’ve got this IV bag, let’s stick it and bring them to the Doc.

As far as basis, if you put it together, all the medical gear that’s out there, it’s probably seventy or eighty pounds, but I spread load it. One Marine will have some of the stuff, another Marine will…I spread load it within the Squads. You have three Squads in a platoon. If we’re rolling heavy, you’ve got 37 guys out there, you have seventy or eighty pounds of total gear, but they’ll be carrying 1 or 2 IV bags.

AF: So you’ve got this spread loaded, you’re on the helo, you have your mission, you know where you’re going. You’re five minutes to target. Tell me what’s going on physically, what’s going on in your head.

Op: Your mind is running like crazy. This is my first deployment, so you’re running though all the scenarios, what could happen, what couldn’t, is everybody going to be all right? Are you going to bring everybody home safely? Not you, in general, but is your commander going to bring you home safely? You’re just amped up. You’re ready to roll.

Everybody’s quiet. You can’t spit. You’re nervous as all shit. No matter how much water you drink, you still feel dehydrated. That’s just half of it right there. You’re shaking, you’re shaking a little bit.

AF: Okay. You’re over your drop zone. What goes on?

Op: After that, it goes into you do what you’re trained for. You execute. Once your feet are on the ground, you don’t have time to worry about what’s going to happen.

AF: Are you guys always fast roping out? Are you hover landing?

Op: Most of the time we’re fast roping. If you can find a clear LZ far enough away form the objective point, we’ll land, if it’s clear. Helos don’t land if there’s certain criteria. The helos will take off and we’ll start our op.

AF: Most Crossfitters have never fast roped. What exactly is getting out of that helicopter like?

Op: There are two ways to get out of the helicopter. There’s this thing called a “hellhole”, about the size of this table, a little bigger than this table. 3.5 foot by 3 foot hole you swing out of, you fast rope down. That’s the center of the bird, right in the belly of the bird. Then they have a tower that hangs off the back of the helo. You can swing out of that, too. That’s a lot easier to get out of, because there’s no restrictions. Your backside’s away from the bird, you’re looking at the bird as you’re going down. That’s a fun time. Fast roping’s good stuff. It’s a good way to put a lot of guys on the ground without touching down.

AF: Have you ever been in a combat situation where you had to throw somebody on your shoulder?

Op: Yes. We were in -------, and we were operating with Reconnaissance [Marines]. Those guys went through the house, and I was on the outside of the house. One of their guys went down. Their Corpsman inside the house, the Recon Corpsman, their own Corpsman, treated him, but being a Recon Corpsman, they have to push through, they have to operate more, so they called me up.

I had to do my secondary assessment, and I put him over my shoulder and carry him out. The LZ was 1.5 clicks away, so I carried him about 1.5 clicks.

AF: How far is 1.5 clicks?

Op: About a kilometer, 1500 meters.

AF: How much would you say this guy weighed?

Op: About 270, 260 pounds with all his gear.

AF: You carried a 270-pound man a kilometer. What are the ramifications of you not being able to do that?

Op: Basically, when that Corpsman did the turnover to me, here’s your patient, this is your patient; you’ve got to take care of him. If I can’t carry him, I can’t take care of him. The reason we’re there is to take care of the guys who are in need of medical attention. So if I have to dump him with some Marine who doesn’t know any medical, doesn’t have any advanced trauma and life support training, who can’t do any monitoring, even on his shoulder—he wasn’t wounded that bad, but bad enough to where he couldn’t walk—you always want to be able to monitor the patient. Me being able to carry the guy made it that much easier for me to monitor him.

Also, I’m doing my job, I’m sharing my load. I’m not dumping my load on someone else. So it makes the team that much more efficient.

AF: As far as the psychological necessity of being in the field, I’m sure you need to be focused and on-target and unemotional. I don’t want to put words in your mouth. What is it like out there for you psychologically?

Op: You have to be ready and focused all the time, especially in that situation. Stuff goes downhill very quickly. For it not to go downhill on you, you need to be focused. That Crossfit stuff comes into play big-time. That physical duress you go through, even if it’s twenty minutes, it builds the mental toughness, the focus. You don’t have to worry about huffing and puffing up a hill.

AF: You obviously have to undergo some job-specific training, not only medical, but you need to be proficient with your gear. What kind of physical training do you undergo in the U.S. Navy, and how do you blend that training with Crossfit?

Op: The Navy sends me to medical schools, all the medical training we can get. A Corpsman on the “green side”, with the Marines, we start with Corps School, we go to FMSS, which is Field Medical Service School, and from there, they go to their unit. Their unit, after that, can either send them to EMT school or OEMS, a live tissue school. It’s a two-and-a-half week long school where they teach you all the ATLS stuff. They take the biggest points out of 18-Delta, which is the special operations medic school that all the special operations medic guys go through. We do a pig lab after that, a live tissue lab. You get to see firsthand what bullet wounds do to flesh, what cuts do to flesh. Sutures and stuff like that. Funny thing is, when you go to that course, you’ll be about 150, 200 yards away from the pig, and they’ll shoot it, and they’ll call for a Corpsman Up, Medic Up, and you have to go running to it. Assess it while you’re huffing and puffing, put it on a stretcher, and bring it back to your table. It’s an all or nothing type thing.

Crossfit teaches you to be like that. One second you’ll be standing there, and the next second, you’re going as fast and hard as you can.

AF: Are you just picking it up?

Op: You’re running to your patient or your pig—it doesn’t matter—and as you’re running there, all these scenarios are going through your head. That’s where physical fitness is huge. Is huge. If you’re not fit, one, you can’t get there quick enough, and number two, being fit allows you to think on the move. Thinking on the move is the big thing.

Just like if you were doing a “Diane”. If you know you can’t lift a 225 twenty-one times, if you’re thinking on the move, if I just divvy this up seven times, rest a little bit, seven times, rest a little bit. If you can’t do the handstand pushups 21 times in a row, it’s the same way. You build that focus.

AF: You started Crossfitting before you were serving in a covert capacity. What were the fitness requirements you had to meet to get into your Spec Ops Program?

Op: Basically, there isn’t a [stated] requirement. Physical fitness is paramount in that community. If one guy can’t keep his weight or pull his weight, the next guy has to pull his weight, and there’s a trickledown effect. If you’re operating with only twelve or fifteen guys in a house, it’s very hard to be efficient.

That’s where physical fitness comes into play, where Crossfit comes along. You should be able to carry a 250-pound guy a substantial distance if you need to. You also need to be able to deadlift a 250 pound guy, because if he’s on a litter, and you’re sharing it with another guy, you should be able to lift at least 150 pounds, maybe 200 pounds—him, all his gear, and maybe sometimes you need to put your gear on him as well.

AF: We were talking earlier about first responding, about policemen and firefighters, about the need to be out in the field and have your physical capacity about you to be able to do your job. Obviously, that’s very important. How do you fit in working out and being recovered enough to do your job, and is it an issue for you in your job?

Op: Policemen don’t carry sixty pounds of gear. First responders, same thing. EMTs, paramedics, those guys. Firefighters do, they have to wear all their protective gear. But those guys are immediate action. They get a call, they have to go right away.

In the military, it’s not like that. It’s more you get a mission base, you get your mission planning, and then your execution. That timeframe is usually 48-72 hours. So let’s say I do a Crossfit workout, a real hard one, like we did today, where you know you’re going to be sore tomorrow. You’re still good. Before your feet hit the deck, you’re going to be fully recovered. Let’s say you get the word tonight—you know you’re not going to hit the deck for at least another 48 hours. That’s the very minimum. Usually they push it further.

AF: How do you do WODs on deployment? You’re out for months at a time; you obviously can’t pack an entire gym with you. You guys are operating in pretty austere environments. What do you have?

Op: One of our guys in our platoon bought a bunch of kettlebells, so we bring those with us. We spread load those as well. If we’re making a campsite for the night, if we’re working in clandestine operations, we obviously don’t bring them, because we know we’ll be back within the day. But if we’re just out in the field we bring kettlebells with us. We also take from the old Crossfit Journal, where you can fill up sandbags and old ammo cans with sand. We guesstimate distances as far as running and stuff like that. I have a pair of rings I bring with me every time we go to the field. That’s how we Crossfit.

AF: How often do you get at it?

Op: Every time we go out. When I’m in garrison, I do it every day. When we’re in the field, it all depends whether or not we have time or not. Because in the morning—mornings are early—six o’clock, six thirty they get you up and you have to do your training. That training usually lasts until sundown. But if you’ve got enough time you do it, if not, you live to fight another day.

AF: Where do you get your workouts?

Op: When I go to the field, if I know I’m going to the field for five days, I write down five days worth of workouts, just random ones, ones I know I like. Ones that I know the guys I workout with like.

AF: Do you guys do exclusively Crossfit-style workouts? Is there anything else in there? Are you lifting?

Op: We’re running a lot and swimming a lot. So what we usually do in garrison, back in the rear, we’ll Crossfit in the morning at six, and at the end of the workday, we run or swim. That keeps us in pretty good shape. Actually, keeps us in really good shape.

AF: Is there total buy-in in your unit? Is everybody Crossfitting? Are there some guys that look at you like you’re nuts?

Op: There’s a lot of guys that look at us like we’re nuts. I’ve got to say, 85% of the guys look at us like we’re nuts. But the results speak for themselves. When I’m the first one done with a combat o-course, or I’m the first one done with a run, or the first one done with a swim, or the first one done with a run-swim-run, it’s all “who’s this guy?” Who’s this Navy guy? They talk shit about the Corpsmen, because you’re not a Marine. But I didn’t join the Marines Corps. It’s good to kick some ass every once in a while, put them in their place.

AF: How many guys are we talking about?

Op: The platoon is 35 deep, and about ten guys are Crossfitting. I know there’s five of us doing it on a consistent basis. You know ------‘s one of the guys in my platoon, and there’s two other guys that do it on a consistent basis. Four or five of us on a consistent basis. The other guys, they kind of do it, sometimes maybe not, depending on their mood.

AF: You guys ever try to spread the Gospel, so to speak, or is it hands-off?

Op: I tried. I tried when I first checked into the unit, and it didn’t work.

AF: What are these other 30 guys doing for fitness?

Op: The old school Marine Corps shit. They’re doing a lot of running. I told them, “A lot of running’s not going to make you combat effective.” They do a lot of the isolated muscle thing, the muscle-head, biceps curl shit.

AF: Is there a difference in results from the guys doing Crossfit? You’ve got a third of the guys doing Crossfit. Do you see a difference in run times?

Op: Hell yeah. -----, when he first started Crossfitting, his PFT… In the Military, everything is a PFT. What was your last PFT score? Which is not an accurate measure of fitness.

AF: For those that don’t know, what is the PFT?

Op: The PFT for the Marine Corps is sit-ups in two minutes—a hundred is a perfect score—pull-ups, no time limit, twenty is a perfect score, and a three-mile run. Eighteen minutes is a perfect score.

AF: Let’s talk about range of motion. Are these full sit-ups?

Op: No. Not at all. It’s arms crossed, touch your thighs. The pull-ups are dead hang. You can’t kip, but you can get a rhythm. If it doesn’t look like you’re kipping, they’ll count them.

AF: What’s your PFT score?

Op: My last PFT score was 295 out of 300.

AF: Where did you fall short?

Op: I was a little slow on the run.

AF: So you couldn’t string together three consecutive 6:00 miles? That’s okay, man, not too many people can. (Laughter).

Op: It’s ridiculous.

AF: These guys that you’ve got out there running every day?

Op: Even the guys that are out there running every day aren’t scoring 300 PFTs. A lot of them are falling short on the calisthenics, especially the pull-ups. A lot of guys can’t do twenty pull-ups. It’s kind of embarrassing for them when the Corpsman comes along and does twenty pull-ups like it was nothing.

Going back to ------, when he first started Crossfitting, his PFT was like a 255, 265, something like that. It’s middle first-class. High first-class would be a 285, 290, 295. He started Crossfit, and two months later, he had a PFT, and he went from a 265 to a 285, 290. In just two months. And he still maintains it today. And he’s gotten heavier as far as muscle mass. He’s got even more muscle.

AF: What other situations do you find yourself in where your fitness needs to be exhibited, not in a combat situation, but in o-courses, etcetera?

Op: O-course too. The Marine Corps o-course. It’s a short course, about 200 meters long. Not even two hundred meters. It’s a hundred and fifty meters long. You got a bar you have to vault, you got monkey bars, you have a thing called the “Dirty Name “ where you jump off a log and catch it on your stomach, and then low walls, you got low log vaults, and a rope climb at the end. My time, it’s hard for me to gauge it, because I didn’t start Crossfit in the military—I started on the outside. Which is good, but for a bigger guy, I’m not small, I can keep up with the best of them. I attribute it to Crossfit.

AF: How long does it take you to get through that hundred and fifty meters?

Op: Last time, it was like 3:40 over twelve, thirteen obstacles. You get to the rope, you’re smoked. There’s no doubt about it. It’s a short, quick workout. Sometimes you run it two, three times for PT. I like it. It’s very Crossfit-like. It’s functional, throw-your-body-somewhere stuff.

AF: We know Crossfit is superior to a bodybuilding/cardio split. I don’t think that’s worth rehashing too much. Does it actually make a difference in the field? Are your bodybuilding/cardio guys keeping up with you anyway? Is it really not a problem?

Op: They can keep up, but they get gassed a lot easier. They definitely can’t carry a two hundred and sixty pound guy for one and a half kilometers. But they can keep up. They wouldn’t be there if they couldn’t. They were hand-selected by our battalion to go to this unit. They can, but I think they could do better. That’s just my opinion, from what I’ve seen.

AF: All right. Thanks. I really appreciate you sending me this stuff and taking the time to talk with me. I’m sure everyone out at Crossfit will appreciate it too. Thanks very much.

Op: No worries.

My thanks to the men of the United States Navy and the United States Marine Corps, and my friend, the outstanding Crossfitter who made this possible. Thank you for your service. All pictures courtesy of an anonymous serviceman known simply as "Combat Camera".

2007-01-26T19:19:00.000+00:00

Killing Fran

You think your "Fran" time is good? John Velandra of Crossfit Cape Fear took this video of Greg Amundson and Kelly Moore banging out everyone's favorite WOD in under four minutes at the 2006 Boston Crossfit Certification.

Everytime my ego gets too big, I turn this on. Three and a half minutes of humble pie.

Go faster!

2007-01-25T15:01:00.000+00:00

Bringing Out The Dead

We've got a lot of new athletes at Crossfit Boston, and with the influx comes a whole bunch of newbie questions about deadlifting, including the corker I got last night: "What's a deadlift?"

Here's my take on the best slow lift in existence, originally published in May of last year. Not much has changed since I wrote this article, but I have managed to add 40 pounds to my deadlift. Also, it turns out I'm not as bitterly sarcastic as I used to be. Thanks, Sammy!

I love deadlifting. There aren't too many things I like better than ripping a sh*tload of weight off the ground. I love that moment when you're pulling, and the bar is bending, and nothing is moving. At that moment, I know that I have to be stronger than the gravitational pull of the Earth. Beating an entire planet? It doesn't get any better than that.

The deadlift is a relatively simple movement. Grab the bar, and get it above your knees. Go to full extension. That's it. No double scoop, no "getting tall", no explosion. The deadlift is a slow grind of man versus metal.

Like everything else, the details are important. I'm not an expert on the movement, but I've been coached through a pull or two, and I'm damn close to a 2.5x bodyweight lift.

The first detail--own the f*cking bar. Walk up to that thing like it stole your wallet after it slept with your sister. Grab it, using a hook grip or a mixed grip, and strangle the ever-living sh*t out of it. Treat every pull like a battle.

You're William Wallace, and the bar is the English. It doesn't stand a chance.

Once you've got a good grip on the bar, drop the hips and get your chest up. The bar should be on your shins or damn close. Unlike a snatch or a clean and jerk, your shoulders should be behind the bar.

Retract your upper back. Your lower lumbar curve should be pronounced. A rounded back is going to result in injury. You'll notice a tendency toward rounding as your reps go on, especially during high-rep efforts. Make a conscious to effort avoid rounding.

As you're addressing the bar, take a deep breath, and tense every god-forsaken muscle in your body. All of them. Say it with me now..."I am one piece. I AM ONE PIECE!"

Now, don't think. Don't wait. Don't breathe. Don't worry about how much weight is on the bar. Rip that motherf*cker off the ground.

Your hips and your shoulders should move at the same rate. Do not extend the hips and then the back. The movements should be simultaneous. If you do them independently, you'll get no pull out of your legs and all the strain will be on your lower back. This will severely limit the amount of weight you can move. Romanian Deadlifts are wonderful and all, but that's not what we're doing here.

Pull through the heels. This is important. You wouldn't engage in a tug-of-war on your toes. Human beings are built to pull from the heels. We do it instinctually in every pulling effort we engage in. Unlike last Saturday night, now is not the time to resist your instincts.

Even though the bar may be moving slowly in reality, pull fast. This is a mindset. The "faster" you attempt to pull, the more power you'll develop. Power output is a direct result of a high rate of force development, or RFD. The sooner get to your maximum force output, the sooner the lift will be over--you'll lift quick and spend less time fighting the bar.

Do not quit. Just because the bar doesn't move at first doesn't mean it won't move. The barbell is flexible--at high weights, it actually bends before the weight comes off the ground. You have to work through this point. If you feel stuck, pull harder! DO NOT QUIT!

This lift is close to my heart. I'd do it all day long if I could. Screw Crossfit. Screw density training, sprinting, and gymnastics. I want to move enough weight to qualify as a human bulldozer.

Take some advice from a man who has already achieved machine-hood. Dave Tate has pulled 740 off the ground. His deadlifting advice doesn't always vibe with mine--he advocates rounding of the upper back and keeping the bar away from the shins. Of course, he's been lifting since I was in diapers, so what the f*ck do I know. Check out this article, courtesy of Dave Tate and T-Nation.

Go faster!

I don't know where the picture of Mel Gibson came from. It might be a mug shot. The skinny screaming guy is me, back at the old CFB Facility.

2007-01-23T16:12:00.000+00:00

Exercising Caution

As a trainer, I have a mandate. I’m charged with increasing my clients’ speed, strength, and power, and with those qualities, their overall fitness.

I’m also charged with keeping my clients injury-free. An athlete who is unable to run, jump, pull, push, and throw is not going to make any gains. I always err on the side of caution in this respect. If a client reports persistent pain beyond the level of simple discomfort for any movement, we don’t do that movement.

I also refuse to expose my athletes to any movement that I deem unsafe. There are very few exercises that fall into this category. Most exercises that conventional wisdom has declared “unsafe” are absolutely necessary for elite athletic development—the squat and the deadlift come to mind. These exercises are perfectly safe with proper spinal alignment and range-of-motion. Without these sound mechanics, they can result in injury.

The weighted good morning is one of the few exercises my athletes don’t perform. While this movement is perfectly suitable for veterans of posterior chain work, it exposes novice and intermediate athletes to an unacceptable risk of injury. Further, a viable substitute exists that reduces this risk substantially.

In the weighted good morning, the athlete holds a barbell across the trapeziums, much like the starting position of the back squat. With a slight bend in the knees, he then leans forward at the waist while pushing the hips back, keeping the chest up and the shoulders retracted, until reaching parallel. Upon completion, he returns to the upright position.

Like the squat and the deadlift, performing this movement safely requires good spinal alignment. The chest is “up”, the shoulders are retracted, and the lower back is arched.

For novice athletes, maintaining this spinal alignment is a challenge. This group typically presents poor hamstring flexibility, making it nearly impossible for them to retain an arched lower back throughout the prerequisite range of motion during the good morning. Without this arch, a tremendous shearing force is placed on the spine. The lack of proper spinal alignment is further exacerbated by the placement of the resistance.

Using classical mechanics, the dangerous nature of the good morning due to the placement of resistance becomes blindingly obvious. The barbell is across the shoulders, a full torso-length from the hips. In essence we have a lever system, where the spine serves as the lever and the hips serve as the fulcrum.

The further the fulcrum is from the load, the greater the force that must be applied to the lever to move the load. In this case, the fulcrum is as far from the load as possible, and the athlete must apply a great deal of force to the spine in order to return to standing. The chance of the back rounding and spinal alignment failing is huge.

The majority of the benefit of the good morning lies in the return to standing. The athlete recruits the hamstrings, the glutes, and the erectors to move the resistance through a 90-degree arc, ostensibly building strength and power in that muscle group. Make no mistake—this is a worthwhile goal. The ham/glute/erector complex is the engine that drives all athletic movement. It must be developed thoroughly in order to achieve maximum performance.

There is an alternative to the good morning that creates the same speed and power benefits. The Romanian Deadlift (RDL) recruits the same muscles as the good morning while allowing the novice athlete to achieve proper spinal alignment, despite a lack of hamstring flexibility. Most importantly, the load is placed very close to the hips, reducing the load on the spine, and therefore reducing the risk of rounding.

The RDL is often lumped into the mix of dangerous exercises. Like anything else, it can be devastating without proper mechanics. The knees are slightly bent, the chest is “up”, the shoulders are retracted, and the lower back is arched. The barbell is against the shins, placing the load close to the hips and within the base of support. Keeping the knees bent and the spine in proper position, the athlete moves through a 90-degree arc to vertical.

There are several similarities between the RDL and the good morning. The glute/ham/erector complex is activated in each instance, and proper performance requires good spinal alignment. The range-of-motion is nearly identical. The difference lies in the placement of the load in relation to the hips and the base of support. When we take these factors into consideration, the proper choice of exercise becomes obvious.

With equal efficacy, and a lower risk of injury, the RDL is superior to the good morning for targeted posterior chain development.

Go faster!

Pictures courtesy of the Maryland Spine Center, Bullz-eye.com, and Purekracht.nl. The crappy lever illustration is all mine.

2007-01-19T21:11:00.000+00:00

The Truth

Everyone has their caveats. This is the warning reasonably intelligent people deliver after every definitive statement in an attempt to cover their ass.

“Yeah, fasted cardio is the only way to get your body fat below 8%. But, you know, that’s only true for most guys. It might not work for you.”

The caveat absolves the speaker of any responsibility for the effectiveness of their advice, shifting the blame for failure to the listener. In the world of athletic training these cop-out statements are often necessary—there’s not a whole lot out there that’s strictly black and white.

Nonetheless, I was lying in bed last night wondering if there are certain unalienable truths out there, statements about training that require absolutely no caveat. In my mind, every pursuit has an essence that lends itself to description and explanation. Fitness is no exception. Here, I humbly present the truths of training, caveat-free:

1.) You will not get stronger without overload.

This one is simple. Training has two guiding principles—volume and intensity. The first refers to the number of repetitions performed, while the second refers to the relative demand those repetitions place on the body. Over time, you must expose your body to gradually increasing volume in order to reap fitness benefits. You must keep intensity high throughout.

I like to track this in my workout log by recording the total amount of weight lifted in any session divided by the number of repetitions performed in that session. This calculation gives an average weight per repetition. This number must increase over time, or you’re just spinning your wheels.

2.) You will not get bigger without eating more or smaller without increasing energy expenditure.

My buddy Eva Claire loves this one. All the girls want to get smaller and all the boys want to get bigger. Most women try to get smaller by eating less when they would be better served by increasing their energy expenditure. Most men try to get bigger by increasing their energy expenditure, although they’d be better served by eating more.

Each gender should take a page out of the other’s playbook.

Eating less only serves to lower your metabolic rate, meaning your body will attempt to conserve every precious calorie for future use. What goes in stays in, stored as fat. Rather than lower their metabolic rate, women would be better served by lifting heavy to maintain lean muscle mass and exercising with high intensity to ramp up fat-burning.

In the same vein, lifting heavy and often will only increase lean muscle mass if the attendant caloric intake will support the new tissue. The boys need to take in more food, not lift more. Nonetheless, they’ll spend three hours a day in the gym, burning off those stray calories that would’ve turned into new tissue if energy expenditure had been a little lower.

3.) Steady-state cardiovascular work will not lead to fitness.

The body uses three distinct energy pathways, each employed based on the demands placed on the body. Two of these systems (the alactic acid system and the glycolytic system) are called into play when the rate of muscle contraction exceeds the body’s ability to produce contractions using oxygen.

These two systems, collectively known as the anaerobic systems, are not trained during steady-state cardiovascular work. Steady-state work utilizes the aerobic energy system, which is only capable of producing muscle contractions in the presence of oxygen.

Unfortunately, the anaerobic systems are critical for high to moderate power output activities, such as the squat, the clean and jerk, and the 400-meter sprint. If they aren’t properly developed, the corresponding activities suffer.

Road jocks aren’t worth a damn when it comes to performing anaerobic activities, because they haven’t developed the contractile strength that comes with heavy anaerobic training. Primary practitioners of steady-state cardiovascular work are incomplete athletes.

4.) Mental focus is more critical to training success than physical ability.

We are limited by our bodies, but our true limitations exist in the mind. Flat-out lying to an athlete about weight on the bar will often get them to lift a personal best, absence any organic change in the body. I attribute this phenomenon to the power of belief. “Knowing” that you can do something will instantly bring you closer to doing it. Combine an ardent belief with months of training, and you have a recipe for excellence.

On the flip side, God-given ability is easily negated by a poor outlook. I’ve seen otherwise-talented sandbaggers spend a lot of time claiming inability, giving them a ready-made hedge against failure. These folks fail a lot, and they remain in the realm of the novice athlete for years.

5.) There is an inverse relationship between the complexity of a piece of exercise equipment and its effectiveness.

The most effective implements for building lean muscle tissue and shedding fat are heavy, blunt, and simple. They have few or no moving parts, and they don’t plug into the wall. A barbell, some weights, a few dumbbells, and a pull-up bar are all you need to achieve world-class fitness. Everything else just adds variety.

By their nature, these things require effort to use. You’ve got to pick them up off the ground and hoist them around. They don’t give you a place to sit, and they don’t read your heart rate every ten seconds.

If your exercise regimen involves blinking lights, vibrating seats, or imbedded televisions, you’re doing yourself a disservice. Find the stuff that’s cold and heavy and made of metal. It’s the only route to fitness.

There they are—five unalienable truths about training. You could disagree with my assertions, and probably make a good case of it, citing fifteen scientific studies and the extensive knowledge of the over-certified polo shirt-wearing pseudo-trainer down at the local Y.

The problem is you’d have to use an awful lot of caveats.

Go faster!

Picture courtesy of magnetreps.com. Check out our new Gill Athletics site for all the heavy, blunt, cold stuff you could ever need. From now until eternity, we're offering great discounts on all the gear in the Gill Athletics inventory. Email me for details!

2007-01-18T17:03:00.000+00:00

Impulse Control

Virtually all athletic activities involve maximal force development. This may be directed toward starting, stopping, changing direction, or maintaining a vector at top speed. Likewise, it may be directed at throwing, jumping, and hitting. As a general rule, the more force you’re able to develop, the greater your athletic potential.

The fastest sprinter and highest jumper direct the most force toward the ground with the greatest speed, as does the world record holder in the clean and jerk. Each one of these athletes depends on their ability to move a motionless object into motion.

For the track athlete, this object is themselves, while the weightlifter is moving a barbell. For the aspiring Crossfitter, this object could be themselves, a rower handle, a barbell, a kettlebell, a medicine ball, or any other form of resistance. In each instance, we’re looking to move an object from rest to top speed in the shortest amount of time possible.

Moving an object from rest (or in a new direction) requires an impulse. This quantity is equal to the average force applied to an object multiplied by the duration of that force application.

Impulse = Force (avg.) * duration of force application

The greater the overall impulse, the faster the ensuing acceleration will be, all other things being equal. Therefore, to maximize our sprint start, our first pull, and our rowing stroke, we must maximize impulse.

There are two ways to maximize impulse—increase force or increase the duration of force application. Ideally, we won’t separate these quantities. We’ll generate a ton of force for as long as possible.

Maximizing force is intuitively obvious. We want to push hard and fast. Even beginning athletes know that “harder and faster” increases force output. Tell a little leaguer to hit a baseball as hard as he can, and the little guy will swing the bat as fast as he can.

The problem comes when we automatically associate the speed of an action with its force potential. If you were trying to knock out Chuck “The Iceman” Liddell, you would try to hit him as hard as possible as quickly as possible, but you wouldn’t rabbit punch the guy fifteen times. Intuitively, you know that one strike delivered well is more effective that ten strikes delivered poorly, even if both efforts take the same amount of time.

I constantly observe Crossfit athletes trying to “knock out the Iceman” by going too fast. They attempt to speed up their sprinting by increasing stride frequency, speed up their rowing by increasing stroke rate, and clean more weight by pulling on the bar “faster”.

It doesn’t work.

These athletes are sacrificing impulse generation for speed. By blindly pursuing “faster”, they are maximizing force but inadvertently minimizing the duration of force application. Their feet don’t stay in contact with the ground or the rower pedals long enough to generate a meaningful impulse. As our handy-dandy equation shows, maximal force means nothing if the duration of force application approaches zero.

When accelerating an object—self, barbell, rower handle—the athlete must consciously strive for a maximal period of force application. In practice, this means staying in contact with the ground or the foot pedals for as long as possible while applying maximal force. Rather than row “faster”, we need our athletes to row “harder”.

The same principle applies to sprinting. Those who come out of the blocks the fastest generate the largest impulse. They maximize ground contact time for the first twenty meters of a race, pushing “harder” than the competition. Similarly, our Olympic lifters attempt to keep their feet flat on the platform for as long as possible, maximizing contact time and therefore maximizing the impulse to the barbell. Each reaps the benefit of greater acceleration.

Graphically, impulse generation is a parabolic function. For each athlete, there will be a moment of perfect balance between force generation and duration of force application. After this point, force generation drops.

For each athlete, we must find the point where the amount of force and duration of application result in the greatest impulse. Fortunately for the coach and the individual athlete, most athletes are on the early side of the curve, where duration is insufficient to maximize impulse.

Next time you’re going for that personal record, remember to push harder longer. Contact time is essential. You don’t want the Iceman to realize you’re trying to knock him out.

Go faster!

Picture of Chuck Liddell courtesy of plu.edu. "The Iceman" is a Crossfitter, training under John Hackleman at The Pit. Given his recent victory over Tito Ortiz, it must be working!