I came across the following video from Mark Bell a few days
ago, and it really struck a chord with me:
Run hills every morning that make others vomit? Catch bricks instead of game balls?
Only if you want to be the next Jerry Rice....
Mark is absolutely correct.
One day we will all need canes and walkers and wheelchairs. One day we will all need assistance. One day we will all be old. But that doesn't mean we need to accept that
reality today. Today we can work
hard. Today we can challenge
ourselves. Today we can, as Mark so
eloquently said, "train like a savage."
People are constantly telling me what will or will not in my
own training. They claim squatting heavy
every workout isn’t possible. They argue
the body will break down under that type of workload. And my all-time favorite, they point to “scientific
research” that “concludes” your central nervous system cannot recover from
heavy, daily squatting. Well, folks, I'm
still standing here, and I am stronger than ever. Have I suffered my fair share of "bad
days?" Hell yes, but I'm not about
to surrender to old age just yet. This
body is capable of much more, and I intend to prove it.
You doubt me, go ahead.
I've always relished the opportunity to serve others a hot plate of
crow. You say my approach to training
isn't sustainable, and you might be right, but I'd rather be as a has-been,
than a never was, you coward. I don't
fear hard work, pain, or fatigue, the only thing I fear is time, because, in
the end, time catches up with us all. However,
until that day, why don't we continue to train like savages, and fight to add
those little .5-kilogram weight plates to our bar?
That little white .5-kilogram weight plate there on the end . . . yeah, the one you almost missed . . . it holds the meaning of life. You just need to be strong enough to accept that reality.
Only fractions of a percentage point separate the
very good from the great and the truly great from the legendary in the world of
competitive athletics. To quote Al Pacino's
epic pregame speech from the movie Any
Given Sunday:
“You know when you get old in
life things get taken from you . . . But, you only learn that when you start
losing stuff. You find out that is just
a game of inches . . . Because in either life or football the margin for error
is so small . . . the inches we need are everywhere around us. They are in every break of the game, every
minute, every second. On this team, we
fight for that inch. On this team, we
tear ourselves, and everyone around us to pieces for that inch. We CLAW with our finger nails for that
inch. Cause we know [that] when you add
up all those inches, that’s going to make the fucking difference between
WINNING and LOSING, between LIVING and DYING . . . And I know that if I am
going to have any life anymore it is because, I am still willing to fight, and
die, for that inch, because that is what LIVING is. The six inches in front of your face.”
Fighting for that inch. That's the name of the game, folks, just ask
Michael Phelps, Jason Lezak, or any other great racer. But it is not enough to fight for that inch
only in competition. The best racers I
knew competed ALL THE TIME. 5 a.m. on
Monday morning or 9 a.m. on News Year Day, it didn't matter. Any final repeat "for time" was
their time. They owned it, and they made
sure everyone else knew it, too.
People often talk about "the will to win,"
but anyone can want to win when the lights come on and everyone is
watching. The real racers, however, want
to win on those cold rainy mornings in June when everyone else is still tucked
away in their warm beds, the spring championship meets just a distance thought. So my message is simple – race to win every day. That's how you come to own that inch. That's how you continue to improve. And that
is something I didn't learn until after I was finished swimming.
A few years older and only slightly wiser, I now
compete every day for one extra kilo. Good days, bad days, it doesn't matter –
try to add just one more kilo to what you think is possible for that day. Here’s the harsh reality – those little white
.5-kilogram plates hold the meaning of life. To paraphrase Al Pacino, "clawing
for that inch... because that's what living is." And I'll tell you
something else, I have never felt more alive than I do today.
"I was never talented and nobody will call me talented, I am just a workaholic."
Dmitry Klokov, 2005 World Champion, 2008 Olympic silver medalist in the 105 kg weight class.
One quickly learns when squatting to a daily maximum that
yesterday's results do not necessarily guarantee greater, or even equal, success today. Now, that's not to say past work isn't
valuable, it is certainly, but progress will not be linear under this type of
training program.. Moreover, you will
inevitably experience what some people call "the dark times." Grappling with these physical and psychological
strains is normal. Push on and accept
each workout's results for what they are – just another day. To quote Rocky Balboa, "that's how winning
is done!"
With respect to my own training, a few changes have produced
positive results (to date):
First and foremost, I quit squatting to an absolute max
every workout, i.e. up a miss, especially in the back squat. I made this change simply because I don't
think "absolute" maxing is sustainable, healthy or terribly productive
over the long-run. I also found that
repeated misses in the back squat left me drained for at least twenty-four
hours (central nervous system recovery may be a factor here).
Second, I reduced both the volume and the intensity of my
back-off sets. Three to four sets, with
5 percent jumps, is usually the order of business, and the final triple is
often between 84-87 percent. Thusly,
most days the work falls between 70 and 85 percent (as a reminder, percentages
are based off that day's best single).
Third, I started front squatting at the beginning of every
workout, usually up to a heavy single – this
is not a one-rep max. This
progression usually takes 11-12 total reps and all of 15 minutes. In the beginning rest periods are sixty
seconds or less, while the final 2-3 intervals are several minutes. A more robust squat workout comes after the
classic lifts or powers.
And finally, I started voodoo flossing my knees before every
workout (see example video below). There is some variation
day-to-day in the wrapping technique, but often I cover the entire joint, then
proceed to do 10-12 squats with just my bodyweight. I now consider this squat progression just
another part of my warm-up, and it really helps open my hips up for snatches or
cleans. My one-rep max front squat has
also gone up 20 pounds over the last three weeks. I’ll take those gains any day of the week.
How much do you think that mullet adds to Chakarov's squat?
Volume Two
In Volume One, I provided a very succinct -- probably too succinct -- explanation of
"adaptation" as well as a primer on Ivan Abadjiev and his so-called
"Bulgarian Method" (I have included a hyperlink at the bottom of today's post that connects to a translated transcript from Abadjiev on this very subject). The purpose of these posts remains to examine
what elements of the Bulgarian Method may be applied to more traditional
"endurance" sports, with swimming serving as the main counterpoint.
When last we left off, I was explaining why I thought
most swim practices fail to produce the optimal adaptation in the athlete for
racing success. However, based on my discussions with former coaches and peers, alike, I feel I may jumped the gun in Volume One. Therefore, I am backtracking a bit in this post to address some of these issues.
For those who may be unfamiliar with swimming and its
training methods, the average collegiate swim practice lasts at least two hours, with
most of the training focused on building aerobic base. In a typical session,
athletes will usually swim anywhere between 6,500-9,000 yards (4 and 5.5 miles,
respectively), depending on the training group, the coach's philosophy, and the goals of that particular workout. Most college programs,
though not all, also require their athletes to train twice a day, so it is not
uncommon for these athletes to swim upwards of ten miles per day, several days
per week.
I want to make one point crystal clear here -- subjecting athletes to this volume of training is absolutely critical at certain points in their careers, most importantly between
the ages of 12 and 17. At this stage in their respective development, neither
boys nor girls possess a great deal muscle mass, meaning their bodies are
capable of handling, and recovering from, a huge amount of work. Coaches need
to capitalize on this window, and lay a strong aerobic foundation upon which the rest of their "career" can be built. Focusing on events like the 500- and 1,000-yard freestyle, as well as the 200-
and 400-yard individual medley are an excellent long-term approach for
developing well-balanced swimmers. Conversely, coaches who fail to adopt this
long-term view often times place a glass ceiling on their athletes' future
development, limiting their range of events to only the shortest distances and to certain
strokes. I cannot reiterate enough that once this window closes it is very
hard, if not impossible, to make up for lost time. During my own career, I
never saw a collegiate athlete successfully swim a longer event than they
completed at the age group level.
Collegiate and master-level swimmers, however, often times
need to be trained differently than their age group peers, as their changing bodies may not allow them to
grind out huge volumes of aerobic week after week. To begin facilitating this transition, coaches should start shepherding their athletes towards competing at, and focusing on, shorter events, such as the 100- and 200-yard
freestyle, the 100- and 200-yard strokes (backstroke, breaststroke and butterfly,
and the 200-yard individual medley, around their sophomore or junior year of high school. While not all swimmers will make this entire transition, even great distance swimmers need speed for the reasons I mentioned in Volume One. This gradual shift towards the shorter distances will also give high school swimmers a chance to show college coaches their future sprinting potential.
With this foundation laid, a switch to a more Bulgarian specific training program will pay dividends.
One further point on this issue, an athlete's best event CANNOT be their longest. Why? Because all athletes, irrespective of ability level, "fear" their longest event. Indeed, when an athlete steps up onto the blocks for their best event they need to know deep down that they can finish the race strong, and not let the field come back on them.
