A few things

1. Most people who suffer from low back pain lack hip and thoracic spine mobility. Typically when a joint causes pain.  The problem isn't in the joint itself, but the joints above and below.  For example, the lumbar spine isn't meant to be very mobile (only about 15deg of rotation and very little flexion/extension).  When a person lacks mobility in the hip and t - spine, the body will compensate by increasing mobility in the lumbar spine.  This is causes undo stress to the joint and it becomes inflamed. 

2. People need more anti rotation and anti extension work.  This is also a major cause of low back and knee pain.  Without a strong "core", the spine will have to bare most of the stress on the body.  This isn't good.  Do more planks, bridges, rollouts, and pallofs.

3. It's all in your head.  I just read this article on Tnation, and it really goes along with the things my training partners talk about all the time.  Mind games.  Many people will quit mentally before they quit physically.  For example, when doing a heavy yoke walk or walking a heavy squat out of a rack, it literally feels like the weight is CRUSHING you.  The trick is, to have that feeling of THAT weight on your back and not care.

4. Bad programs, not bad exercises.  I didn't come up with this term.  I can't member who did.  But, it can be applied to anyone who asks questions like:  Is squatting going to hurt me?  Benching?  Crunches?  Here's how I answer:  If you have poor hip mobility, don't squat.  If you have extremely long legs in relation to your torso (basketball players) don't squat.  If you find your self in the seated position for most of the day, don't bother with bench or crunches.  Simple enough?


There you have it.  Sorry, I know 4 is a weird number.  I'm out of time.  Gotta go make some kids faster!

Iron and the Soul

One of my favorite articles on lifting by Henry Rollins. 

Iron and the Soul

By Henry Rollins

I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself. Completely.

When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me “garbage can” and telling me I’d be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn’t run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.

I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn’t going to get pounded in the hallway between classes.

Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you’ll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn’t think much of them either.

Then came Mr. Pepperman, my adviser. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class. Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard.

Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn’t even drag them to my mom’s car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.

Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.’s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn’t looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing.

In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn’t want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in. Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn’t know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.

Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn’t say **** to me.

It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong. When the Iron doesn’t want to come off the mat, it’s the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn’t teach you anything. That’s the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.

It wasn’t until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can’t be as bad as that workout.

I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn’t ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you’re not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.

I have never met a truly strong person who didn’t have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone’s shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr. Pepperman.

Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.

Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body. Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn’t see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.

I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you’re made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live.

Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it’s some kind of miracle if you’re not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole. I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron mind.

Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind. The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it’s impossible to turn back.

The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you’re a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.

Does "hard" equal effective?

I was recently talking with a perspective client, and they were telling me about how hard the workouts were that their previous trainer put them through.  This person felt that the workouts were effective because they were difficult.  Don't get me wrong, I love hard work.  Let me repeat that - I LOVE hard work.  But, only if it serves a purpose.  For instance, let's take two athletes.  I will spend an hour with athlete one working one his/her sprint technique.  Athlete two will spend the entire hour doing jumping jacks.  By the end of the hour, which one do you think got better?

Sometimes it's best to work smarter, not harder.

^^Trust me it's hard, but not very effective^^

You Can't See the Forest for the Trees

I recently read an article by Dave Tate on Elitefts.com about how simple the rules are for weight loss.  He basically states that people need to EAT LESS AND MOVE MORE.  He basically states that people get so caught up in the minutia of dieting, that they miss the big picture.  Essentially, they cannot see the forest because the trees are in the way.  They get so caught up in low fat, no fat, no carbs, don't eat after 6:03PM, ect.  that they miss the big picture.  Which is STOP EATING SO MUCH.

Reading this article made me think about the fact that people do the same thing with exercise.   They make things way too complicated.  Here's a sample dialogue I recently had:

Lifter:  Should I be looking straight or up when I deadlift?

Me:  Squat down to the bar, pull it in to your shins, arch your back, and stand the weight up.  Just do what feels natural.

L:  But, looking several feet in front of me at the floor feels natural and (insert guru's name here) said I shouldn't do that.

Me:  (Inserts face into palm) Like I said, do what feels natural.

I was trying to be polite with this guy.  What I really wanted to say was, "Just shut up and pick up the stupid bar!"  My point is, don't get so caught up in the little things that you miss the big picture.  I can't remember who said it, but one of my favorite quotes on the matter is "Stop majoring in the minor things"

Funny video from the article: