Friday, January 3, 2014

Huge Mistakes I Made Prior to the Year 2014 – Part II

Picking up where I left off in my last point, please find below some additional huge mistakes I made prior to the Year 2014.

5. Inappropriate Program Selection and “Program Jumping.”   I think just about anyone who “self-programs” their own training has probably been guilty of this at one time or another, and truth be told, there is a good chance they are probably still jumping from one program to the next without any underlying theory.  Regardless, in my opinion, the best, i.e. the most efficient and sustainable, way to get any young athlete or novice lifter strong is through linear progression.  The reason being that without a true one-rep max, a percentage-based approach is superfluous, and the individual would be better served using small, intra-workout jumps.  On the other end of the spectrum, the so-called “Bulgarian Method” is receiving a lot of hype these days, as is the “squat every day” style of training advocated for by John Broz and a few other weightlifting coaches.  I used the latter approach in my own training this past year (for full disclaimer: I added 40 kilos to my back squat in ten months using Nick Horton’s “Squat Nemesis” program), but I am young and have tremendous recovery capacities.  Having experimented with a few different approaches, I have come to believe that there are more efficient ways to skin the proverbial cat, ones that require far less time in the gym, than the squat every day program.

I would also like to point out that there is a key difference between “program jumping” and “program progressing.”  The former comes about after too many visits to online forums, while the latter presents itself only after an athlete has exhausted a particular approach.  Think linear progression to Texas Squat Method, or possibly linear progression to a percentage-based program.  Again, any such progression should only take place once an athlete has exhausted linear progression, as evidenced by repeated stall outs around the same point.  The time it takes for a particular individual to exhaust linear progression depends on a wide range of factors, and it would be inappropriate for me to pose an average due to this high degree of specificity.   

6.  Neglecting Assistance Exercises.  Okay, you got me, the Bulgarian national team under Ivan Abadjiev only performed five lifts – the snatch, clean and jerk, power snatch, power clean, and front squat – during most of their training cycles, but let me tell you this, my man, you are most definitely not Naim Suleymanoglu.  Assistance lifts like push presses, RDLs, glute-ham raises, and Pendlay rows are excellent tools to keep in your toolbox, especially with more underdeveloped athletes.  RDLs and glute-ham raises are also great exercises for stretching and strengthening the hamstrings, something that all “desk jocks” need in spades.  In my experience, push presses carry over very well to the jerk, and Pendlay rows are a great total back exercise (erectors, lats, etc.).

In the past, I, too, have been guilty of neglecting these exercises, a laziness that manifested itself in a lower level of general physical preparedness and often times lower numbers in the competition lifts.  Don’t be lazy.  There are always RDLs.

7.  Living in Fear of Carbs.  Quite recently I heard the expression, “glucose is king,” but unfortunately I cannot give proper credit to its author, because my memory is failing me.  Nonetheless, the underlying idea is simple – eat carbs.  My “go to” choices are sweet potatoes, yams, and yucca, but I will also eat a bowl of oatmeal with sliced apples and a tablespoon-ish amount of raw honey before a morning lift, especially if I plan to squat heavy that day.  Carrots and Yukon gold potatoes also come into play from time to time.  I know a lot of people respond well to waxy maize pre- or post-workout, but I prefer nutrient-dense solid food.

During my excessive metcon days several years back, I ate “squirrel food,” i.e. nuts and berries, for most of my carbohydrate intake, but this strategy was the wrong one because berries produce very little glucose.  I think the low-carb approaches advocated by some Zone and Paleo followers have their place, especially for those individuals who are first learning about better food choices and more appropriate serving sizes, but for a hard charging athlete you need to feed the beast.  Eat some carbs in your pre- and post-workout meals and your performance will most likely improve, thus resulting in positive body composition changes.

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Huge Mistakes I Made Prior to the Year 2014 - Part I

Rather than rolling out a forward-looking, “Goals for 2014” type of post, I decided to go in the opposite direction, and take a look in the rearview mirror.  The carnage I saw, as a result of the past mistakes I had made, was painful to revisit.  Please do not make the same ones, I beg you.

 
1.  An Aversion to Steel.  The No. 1 spot on this list dates back to my swimming career, but it remains the biggest mistake I made as a young athlete.  Strength is the prerequisite to increased power, speed, and endurance, and as Bill Starr would say, a stronger athlete is a better athlete.  Without this vital component in my training regimen, I was unable to compete with the top tier of NCAA athletes in the shorter distances, specifically the 100-yard freestyle and 100-yard backstroke, and my lack of exposure to different movement patterns, specifically squatting and overhead pressing, left me vulnerable to a slew of “overtraining” injuries.  Against the backdrop of my own experiences as well as those of my teammates, I have come to believe that swimmers should perform a healthy dose of squats (back, front, and overhead), and all types of pressing and pulling exercises, assuming there are no limiting preconditions.  In terms of the specific programming, I think “Starting Strength,” would be a good place to start for younger athletes and novices, alike, because Rippetoe emphasizes the development of lower body strength, something almost all swimmers lack.  For the time being, I will not wade out into the quagmire that is the “high bar verse low bar” debate, but I do recommend the former to most athletes simply because of the increased mobility demands.  Regardless of chosen style, increased strength in the squat will invariably help the athlete produce more power off the start and turns, making them dangerous, if not deadly, in the “short course,” 25-yard competition format.  A college teammate of mine was a tremendous squatter, and he was dynamite off the walls.  This was not a coincidence.   

2.  Not Prioritizing Strength in the Offseason.  No. 2 dovetails nicely with the earlier discussion, because it further illustrates how inverted my thinking was “back in the day.”  Rather than focus my offseason (May through August) on gaining strength and improving flexibility, I used that time to build my aerobic base.  While this was certainly not a waste of time, it was not the optimal approach for producing faster times nine or ten months down the road.  If given the chance to do it all over again, I would use the summer months as a time to gain strength, improve general physical preparedness, and perform a maintenance level of aerobic work in the pool.

3.  Failing to Seek Out Expert Advice.  The first two mistakes on this list probably could have been avoided if I had been smart enough to ask the right questions while in high school and college.  Bill Starr – yes, that Bill Starr, the Godfather of 5x5 and the author of Only the Strong Shall Survive – was, for several years, the head strength coach for my university’s varsity athletics teams.  Revisiting his teachings would have been a very worthwhile use of my time, but I was a 20-year-old, know it all so it might not have taken after all.



“The discipline and doing things you don’t enjoy make you a great athlete and give you the ability to stand with the fittest and the strongest.”
-- Bill Starr

4.  Metcon Obsessing.  Like so many others, my first exposure to weightlifting, i.e. the snatch and clean and jerk, came via Crossfit [insert condescending “jump and shrug” or “triple extension” comment].  At that time, however, I was far more concerned with metabolic conditioning than actual strength training, not realizing the latter helps the former far more than the reverse.  In short, I was “WOD Drunk” and most likely metabolically broken.  (If you are unfamiliar with the latter concept, I strongly encourage you to read the following post on, “Confessions of a Crossfit Coach.”).  “AMRAPS” of all kinds – 20-, 30-, and even 40-minute beatdowns were the order of the day, and I was proud of my sweat angels.  The longer, the better.  But here was the rub: my overall fitness was stagnating, though I could run for days without tiring, and my body composition changes had flat-lined.  I really enjoyed reading this post on the Crossfit Amplify page as well as this one over at Greg Everett’s Catalyst Athletics website.

Monday, December 16, 2013

"This is the soup that makes the soldier"

History buffs and my fellow nerds might recognize the title of this post from the French proverb, “C’est la soupe qui fait le soldat."  Attributed to either Napoleon Bonaparte or Frederick the Great, the French aphorism quite literally means “this is the soup that makes the soldier,” though others may know it as “an army marches on its stomach.”  To their credit, Napoleon and Frederick realized that without sufficient food stuffs, a general could keep his army in the field, and Bonaparte, in particular, used unorthodox tactics to group and maneuver his forces while on campaign.  The same can be said for a weightlifter, as he or she must continually fortify their supply line.

 
A weightlifter’s supply line consists of sleep and calories.  While both are vital to facilitating progress in the gym, the former aids recovery in ways the latter cannot, as sleep allows for a resting of the central nervous system and more active secretion of plasma growth hormone (GH).  Such concepts are not revelations.   In fact, in 1968, researches from the Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis, Missouri measured GH, insulin, cortisol, and glucose levels in eight young adults over a 38-night period.  The results of that study are clear.  “In eight of the nine subjects, [researchers] observed an elevated level of plasma GH during the night.  They speculated that since the longest interval between meals occurred at night, the increase secretion of growth hormone was a response to fasting and the associated need for an accelerated mobilization of free fatty acids.”[1]  A more detailed study was carried out some years later, and those researchers once again observed that plasma GH levels were low during light sleep and depressed for several hours following a meal.  Conversely, peaks in plasma GH were routinely observed during “deep sleep;" hence, the genesis of John Welbourn’s statement, “sleeping 8 hours or more a day makes you bullet proof.”  His full post, “42 Things I learned Leading Up to 2013,” can be found here.  It is an excellent read, and I would strongly recommend it.

In terms of calories, keep it simple – eggs, fish, fowl and straight up animal flesh are all excellent sources of dietary protein, while leafy green vegetables, such kale, collards, spinach, broccoli, etc., and roots and tubers provide wonderful health benefits.  Meat for strength, vegetables for health, as they say.  I’ve been quoted as saying, “You can’t get strong eating f*cking hummus.”  For the root and tuber intake, I stick primary with yams and sweet potatoes, because they are simple to prepare, easy to transport, and cheap to buy.  Carrots are another one of my favorites, though less carbohydrate-dense.  Yukon Gold potatoes taste great, especially when mashed, but they tend to give me mild digestive issues.

Keeping it simple will also help to ease ancillary strains on the supply line, such as travel, work, or other familial obligations.  It is not unusual for me to cook several pounds of food before a trip, then pack it all in plastic bags and transport the reserves via cooler.  Do yourself a favor, and call ahead to the hotel to see if they have a refridgerator in your room.  If I am travelling to my grandparent’s house in Ohio, for example, I ask my grandmother to thaw out 5-10 pounds of ground venison the day before my arrival.  Ground red meat allows for quick and flexible meal preparation.  It sounds strange, but it all works.  Remember, weightlifters must fortify their supply line if they wish to continue progressing in the gym.


[1] Y. Takahashi, D. M. Kipnis, and W. H. Daughday, “Growth Hormone Secretion during Sleep,” Washington University School of Medicine, Department of Medicine, Metabolism Division, St. Louis, Missouri, 1968.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

My Walden Pond

 
 
"I learned this, at least, by my experiment [at Walden Pond]; that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.  He will put some things behind, will pass an invisible boundary; new, universal, and more liberal laws will begin to establish themselves around and within him; or the old laws be expanded, and interpreted in his favor in a more liberal sense, and he will live with the license of a higher order of beings.  In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness.  If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be.  Now put the foundations under them.”  (Walden 323-324)
 
In late March 1845, Henry David Thoreau retreated from “civilized” society to escape to Walden Pond, a sixty-two acre body of water located just a few miles from his parents’ home in Concord, Massachusetts.  Thoreau later wrote, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn from what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”  (Walden, 90).  The beauty of Walden, is that from Thoreau’s simple challenge came forth a tremendously complex reflection, complete with examples ranging from ants to antiquity.  Scholars have said, “Walden stubbornly refused to constrain itself to a single genre, a single argument, even a single meaning per word.”[1]  To me, this sounds an awful like weightlifting, i.e. snatch and clean and jerk, a sport that places a doctrine of rugged individualism over all else.  
 
My own retreats to the weightlifting platform and squat rack serve a similar purpose, for they both cleanse my soul and keep me tethered to what is really important in life – hard work, accountability, humility, and a willingness to embrace difficult challenges.  Coming to understand and appreciate these lessons has not only made me a more accomplished weightlifter, but also a better husband, brother, friend and co-worker.  The best advice I can offer anyone – weightlifter or layman, alike – is do not bask in the glow of yesterday’s results; eliminate the past tense from your vocabulary and focus solely on the present.  Strive to make the next rep better than the last.  Tunnel vision.  Horse blinders.  Whatever analogy works for you.  Keep your mind sharp and your feet fast.
 
Let’s retreat now to our wooden shanties, load up a barbell with a 120 kilos, and pull the hell out of it.  We might make it, we might miss it, but in the end, irrespective of the result, we will have learned something new about ourselves.


[1] Henry David Thoreau, Walden and Civil Disobedience, 1.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

You Can't Rush the Harvest



Sorry to bust your bubble, but you can't add 40 kilos to your squat overnight.  It takes time and a lot of small incremental gains to reach a twice bodyweight squat.

When training, several people have approached me and asked the same question, "How did you get strong?"  Now, I would argue that I'm not anything special, although I have squatted double bodyweight for multiple sets of five AFTER an hour of snatches and cleans, but this is child's play compared to the numbers of some other big-time weightlifters.  Nonetheless, my response is always the same, "Patience and stubbornness."
If I were to address the biggest problem that I see holding back these people's strength numbers, it would be their unnecessarily complicated "Secret Squirrel Super Hybrid" training program, as John Welbourn calls it.  These programs often fail to produce results, because they are unable to balance training frequency, intensity and volume.  Quite simply, if someone does not have at least a year of consistent training with linear progression, they are leaving a lot of strength on the table, particularly in the squat.  This is a huge no-no for weightlifting, as all the other lifts – the classic lifts as well as their respective power variations – are derived, at least to some degree, from the squat.  For this reason, I call the squat an individual's "denominator strength," and I have never come across anyone who is too strong.
A basic linear progression in the squat would look very similar to Mark Rippetoe's Starting Strength template, i.e. working up to three sets of five across on three non-consecutive days each week, with two kilo adds between training sessions.  If a person is squatting as part of a larger Olympic weightlifting program, the squatting would occur after any prescribed snatch or clean work.  In my opinion, a beginner should snatch, clean and squat every workout, even if the reps are performed with only an empty barbell or pvc pipe.  Consistency is integral for developing fast and efficient pull lines, end of discussion.
Eventually, every individual will need to reduce their inter-workout jumps to only one kilo, but this is not a big deal.  Successfully adding one kilo every workout for a standard six-week training block (18 training sessions total) would still produce an 18-kilo gain, that's roughly 36 pounds for my American powerlifting friends.
Linear progression is not ideal for the snatch and clean and jerk due to the technical components of these particular lifts, but I would still argue that taking it slow is the most efficient way to skin the cat over the long run.  Donny Shankle recommends never repeating a PR in training, but instead always going for one kilo more.  I've adhered to this philosophy for quite some time now, and I think it's excellent advice.  PRs build confidence, and confidence builds PR. thus this approach is a self-fulfilling prophecy. 
Three sets of five across, three days per week, for at least one year, preferably two.  When a person starts missing reps, they should not get frustrated and scrap the program.  Everyone is human, and everyone runs out of recovery capacity at some point.  Glenn Pendlay recommends dropping 7-8 percent, sometimes more, off the heaviest sets, and then working back up towards that previous PR.  Hopefully, in six weeks or so, that individual is challenging his previous best. Just keep rinsing and repeating this process. It isn't terribly interesting. It isn't terribly sexy. But it does make you strong, and that is the goal of many.
Stay patience, stay the course, and fight like a wounded grizzly bear for those one- and two-kilo adds.

Friday, September 13, 2013

Paleo Diet Nitty Gritty Details Revisited

 
Barbell Shrugged is a really cool podcast.  I strongly recommend people check them out.

In my first post on nutrition, Paleo Diet Nitty Gritty Details, I discussed several of the nuances associated with the Paleolithic Diet, including cost concerns and complications brought on by travel obligations.  This piece continues that discussion with an examination of how a Paleo Diet follower can effectively coexist with a non-Paleo spouse, partner, fiance, or boyfriend/girlfriend.  Admittedly, that sentence is ridiculous, but any major life change can cause significant relationship friction.  Moreover, this is a subject with which I have significant experience, having lived with my non-Paleo wife now for over four years.
First and foremost, don't judge your significant other.  I learned this lesson the hard way earlier on, but it nonetheless stands to be repeated.  Most people don't like to be told what they are doing is wrong, and their resentment towards your "judgy judgy" behavior, as my wife calls it, will only torpedo the rest of your argument, regardless of how well it is formulated.
Second, don't try to convert your significant other.  Results always speak louder than words, so focus on the meals you can control, and let any body composition or performance changes speak for themselves.  For most people, breakfast and lunch are solo acts, with some exceptions. Between these two meals, if you consistently consuming a plentiful amount of high-quality protein and fiber-rich fresh veggies, you are off to a great start.
Dining with your significant other, or your kids (sorry, no experience from this angle just yet, folks), can be a bit tricky, but here are a couple of things you can do.  For starters, be the “first actor” when it comes to grocery shopping.  If it's not in the house, it's all the more difficult to eat. Additionally, on the relationship side, my wife always appreciates it when I take on certain household responsibilities that were once "delegated" to women.  I'm not about to walk through that minefield, but guys need to pitch in as participating partners.  Nuff said.
Planning ahead will also serve you well on those nights when things simply aren't going your way, but you still need to fill up before a tough day of squatting and/or conditioning.  Trimmed meat (center cut pork chops, bone-in chicken breasts, steak, etc.) from the butcher will save you time on the preparation side of things, and certain veggies require little to no additional knife work (asparagus and baby carrots immediately come to mind).  I'm also a huge consumer of sweet potatoes so I tend to buy a dozen or so at one time, but the key here is looking for sizes that will easily cook through in the microwave (medium length, medium thickness, no homo).
Another way to ease into Paleo dinners is taking note of what specific meat or veggies your significant other enjoys.  My wife loves seared skirt steak – rare, of course – with broccolini on the side. I'll microwave a sweet potato as an additional side dish, and I'm off to the squat rack tomorrow morning with belly full of beef.
If you aren't buying into the Paleo diet hook, line and sinker (this is something I would actually recommend to most people), you can always make room for compromises at communal meals. Personally, I've been strict Paleo for so long that lots of foods now irritate my digestive track, including milk, which is unfortunate because it's a very easy and powerful tool for getting big and strong (I've experimented with the grass-fed stuff, but it still makes my face and back breakout. No thanks, I'm too old for zits).  But other people might have different results.  If you start experimenting with non-Paleo carb sources, such as white rice or gluten-free rolled oats, etc., I would strongly, strongly recommend trying new foods alongside fiber-rich veggies, as the fiber will blunt an immediate digestive problem. Grilled pork chops, broccoli and homemade mac and cheese make for a great summer meal (my wife's mac is one of the few foods I make an exception for simply because it's so damn good). Nonetheless, I still load up on the broccoli and keep my mac serving more conservative.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

The Legs Feed the Wolf


Game Over.

My experience with competitive athletics stems primarily from my ten-plus years as a swimmer, during which time I competed at both the national and NCAA championship level.  This pursuit of ever faster times in the pool invariably shaped my personality, but it also taught me many excellent life lessons, one being the importance of bringing up weak points.

Prior to my arrival on campus, I had enjoyed two consecutive "breakout" seasons as a high school junior and senior, respectively; the first thrust me onto the State level in New Jersey (not a major power like California, Texas, or Ohio, but respectable nonetheless in the upper tier), while the second catapulted me onto high school's national stage.  I ended my senior year with automatic All-American times in both my primary events, the 200- and 500-yard freestyle.  Not wanting to rest on my laurels, I spent the summer after my senior year training with a top notch USA Swimming program.  There, my training volume doubled, almost tripled, from a modest 6,000 yards per workout to upwards of two 10,000 yard workouts each day (in fact, during "Hell Week" we swam at least 20,000 meters per day for ten consecutive days while at altitude in Colorado Springs).  All signs pointed to a third straight breakout season for me as a college freshmen.

Funny thing is, that third breakout season didn't materialize, as I expected.  Aside from a huge improvement in a relatively new event, the 200-yard backstroke, my freshmen year was by all accounts quite pedestrian.  I qualified for the NCAA championship early in the season, but I failed to put it all together when it counted the most.  At the championship meet, I took both of my freestyle events out fast, in keeping with my past racing style, but each time the field passed me midway through the second half.  Swimming as the unofficial "rabbit," I failed to advance out of the preliminary heats.  Not accustomed to laying eggs on the biggest stage, I was befuddled, frustrated and later angry.  At that same championship meet most of my other training partners also performed below expectations, all but one. Jonny, a junior and one of my best friends on the team, swam great, achieving All-American times in all three of his individual events.

In a later conversation with Jonny, I vented my feelings over my sub-par performances.  I'll never forget his response: "Dick, you need to learn how to kick. Your kick sucks."  You gotta respect brutal honesty.  None of my other coaches had described my weakness in such blunt terms.  A few days later, I was ready to leave the pool after another average when Jonny said the words that would change my swimming career at the collegiate level, "Dick, go get a kickboard."

The kickboard looks humble enough, it's a simple foam flotation device that swimmers can use to immobilize their arms while relying solely on their legs for forward propulsion.  Most swimmers hold it with their hands atop the foam, their arms fully extended, and the bottom of the board resting against their chest.  While it may have been a device originally crafted for old ladies, I can assure you that it's a gnarly, yet indispensable, piece of training gear.

"I don't care how slow you go," Jonny said as we began, "but you can't stop kicking for twenty minutes."  True to his words, after a 100 yards or so, I was indeed moving quite slowly.  Meanwhile, Jonny, by far the fastest kicker on our college team, was buzzing back and forth.  In fact, now that I think about it, he may have lapped me twice that first day.  Afterwards, we loosened up with some easy swimming.  We left the pool that day long after our teammates had already departed for the dining hall.

We repeated this mini kicking workout at the end of every other practice, usually three to four times per week, never using more than just the kickboard.  Back and forth, back and forth. Away from the pool, Jonny showed me how to subtly stretch my ankles while sitting in class.  I was very diligent about doing this whenever possible.  Slowly, yet surely, I started to keep it closer with Jonny, and after a few months I was unquestionably faster.  Prior to swimming the 200-yard freestyle in an otherwise meaningless dual meet that fall, Jonny pulled me aside and said, "Dick, swim as easy as you can for the first 100 yards while staying within striking distance of the field, then, at the halfway point, go to your legs."  Respecting his opinion now more than ever, I did exactly that -- swam even with the field for 100 yards, then went to my legs, switching from the distance swimmer’s two-beat kick to the sprinter’s six-beat kick.  After 75 yards, there was significant daylight between myself and the rest of the field.  The rabbit had now become the wolf.

Over the next few months, Jonny and I continued to kick together after practice for longer and longer sessions, sometimes we ended up staying an extra forty minutes (racing the last 25-50 yards, of course).  But I didn't complain, because I was slowly learning how to use my new weapon when racing in practice.  The confidence of knowing that I owned the second half of races was probably an even more powerful psychological weapon for me.  About three weeks before the NCAA championship meet, Jonny took his old ratty kickboard and flung it towards the cabinet where we all stored our training gear.  "No more kicking, Dick, the hay is in the barn."  (Farm kids and their folksy sayings . . . ).  I continued to stick to Jonny like glue for the next three weeks, attempting to absorb everything he said about tapering, warming up, resting, and racing.  Surprise, surprise, a few weeks later at the NCAA championship meet, I swam lifetime bests in all three of my individual events, and earned several All-American honors.

Over that offseason, I continued the kicking regiment Jonny had taught me, pushing myself to hold faster and faster paces.  Even without a terribly high volume of aerobic work, I knew I was getting much, much faster, especially in the sprints.  Why?  Because I was now single-mindedly focused on bringing up my biggest weakness.  Over the next season, I did nothing to change the kicking ritual.  Fast forward to the NCAA championship meet that March, and I swam three more lifetime bests, times that put me on the map at the collegiate level.  People even came to fear me in the back half of races solely because of my closing speed.  It even got to the point where I started to use my kick as a psychological weapon of mass destruction, "Start looking over your shoulders at 75-yard mark," I would joke with our team’s best sprinters, "because if you look for me at the 100-yard mark you might get whiplash." 

The point of this long, drawn-out story is that all athletes must be honest with themselves when assessing their own performances, and they must come to recognize their own weaknesses.  At this point, sufficient time must be dedicated to turning these weaknesses into strengths.  In the world of competitive powerlifting, Louie Simmons of Westside Barbell preaches a similar philosophy: performance assessment – weakness recognition – tailored training programs.  I never could have made the same improvements without Jonny's help, and I always attribute a large degree of my collegiate success to his tutoring.  I tried in vain to pass on these same lessons to my younger teammates, but sadly only one ever listened (for reference, he, too went on to earn multiple NCAA All-American honors).

Be humble enough to admit that you suck at something, then be strong enough to do something about it.  People don’t often like working on their weaknesses, but this must be done in order to continue progressing.