Nemesis

Hubris. I've come to understand that word intimately over the last year, and in understanding it, I've managed to un-fuck most of my training practices. Before I get into how that worked out, I have a history lesson to share with you. 

When I started writing this blog post, I was hoping to come up with a fictitious character to represent my inner hubris, much like the Oatmeal's Blerch:

I loved this comic, and I straight up HATE running, runners and all they hold dear. 

Then, I made the mistake of reading, and, as is often the case, I discovered my bright-ass idea had not only been done, but was done better by the classical antiquity millennia ago. Hubris, to the Greeks and Romans, had a slightly different meaning. It involved more buggery than we're used to nowadays. However, the concept was still bound to the idea of offending the gods with an expectation of impunity. The classic gods would do things like turning you into a stag and having you ripped apart by your own hounds for looking at them the wrong way, so finding someone with the brazen cojones to piss them off on purpose had their own category of stupid. Anyway, over time, hubris came to represent extreme arrogance, particularly the self-defeating kind. The classics had no specific deity or little monster to represent hubris itself, but they did have a horrific winged enforcer whose job it was to punish those who succumbed to it.

Much cooler than what I was thinking.

That would be Nemesis. This is roughly how antiquity envisioned her: you commit the sin of hubris, and Nemesis smacks you down like a bitch.

Okay. That's the history bit done.

If I had to pick a single flaw in my early programming, it would have to be hubris. I had the belief, as many do, that I had some bit of insight or knowledge that meant I could willfully alter the content of someone's program and have better results. I know you've seen it happen, if you haven't done it yourself.

"I'm going to do Wendler's 5-3-1, but I'm only going to use Olympic lifts because Louie Simmons said I should include speed work and Greg Everett says that Olympic lifts are second to none for force development... AndI'mgoingtodo30minuteconditioningworkoutsfivedaysaweekBECAUSECROSSFIT."

What ends up happening is a shitshow that offends the gods. Nemesis will descend upon the trainee with the fury of a thousand Rippetoes. The trainee will get few or no benefits, and then, depending on what they've been exposed to, they either think they're a fitness guru because their squat went from 205 to 210, or they go straight to internet forums and comment threads to throw in their 2 cents about how Westside programming only works if you're on steroids.

A year ago, give or take a few months, I abandoned my hubris. I committed myself to using the Texas Method. I stopped listening to the little voice inside my head that whispered things like 'You should do your light day reps in the form of a metcon' and just obeyed the program.

And I grew stronger. Exactly as as the programs chief proponents (Lascek, Rippetoe and Pendlay, or the Wichita Falls crew) said I would. My deadlift and presses slowly ratcheted upwards. My squat went up 70lbs. People started asking if I was on steroids. My beard grew more lush and thick.

Occasionally, I'd wander off the path. I wouldn't get enough rest, I'd skip assistance work, or life in general would screw with the entire schedule. Every single time that happened, Nemesis would visit me on Intensity Day and would crush me under a pile of 45lb plates.

The program was designed to work a specific way. Volume, assistance and light work are in their weekly places because to put them anywhere else would invite poor recovery, frustration, and probably brain damage.

Now, Texas Method is just one of many intermediate training programs. Others handle progression, stimulus and recovery in different ways. They they may have slightly different goals. The core of hubris in programming is thinking that you can violate the central premise of a program and still get benefits from it. Once you've carefully selected a program, the wisest path is to shut your fool mouth and listen to what its makers are telling you.

That's what I learned. I learned that the Wichita Falls crew knows more than I do, and that until I push beyond the results they promised me, I should just shut my mouth and obey the program.

Every Sunday is Super

The only reason this is here is because it's semi-topical,
and it needs to be seen.

For me, every Sunday is Super. It's my Intensity Day in Texas Method training, and Sundays the gym is usually full of people who I can trust to spot. Also, perhaps just as important, those people bring their Harbaugh to the table. Every lift matters to them. I'm not suggesting everyone does their best stork-in-a-moshpit dance every time something goes off the rails, but I've been lucky enough to find a group of people who put their heart and soul into training. I'm thankful I walk into a gym where results matter, and that I'm spared the hair-gel, zero chalk, and bad music I'd have had to put up with almost anywhere else.

I hit two PR's today, after cocking up a 333lb squat and a 260lb bench.

Squat: 333lbs x 1
Bench: 238lbs x 3

If you're wondering why the numbers are so very odd, it's because all of our bars seem to come in at different weights. Initially, I thought this was because some were for metric and some were for imperial weights, but since we now have a 42, a 45, a 48 and now a 46lb bar, I've concluded it's because China just straight up hates us.

I also did some speed deadlifts on the minute for 10 minutes. That was a first.

Now, it's time to park myself in front of the idiot box and watch well-paid men destroy their bodies for my amusement.

Quickly, There's No Time To Explain!

We've acquired a few new athletes at Oliphant's, and I'm suddenly forced to explain, between sets, the basic concepts behind a beginners lifting program. Between the effects of volume work and what I'm sure is the early onset of Clint Eastwood Syndrome, my explanations probably fall short in the coherency department.

Lower! 

In the interests of maintaining my own sanity, I've decided to put together a quick primer on strength training. That way, when someone is interested in working in with the lifting crew, I can put a finger on their trembling lips and say "Now is not the time for words, my pet. Get in the squat rack.". Once they've finished their sets, changed, and had a good cry in the shower, the primer is something I can put in their grubby little paws to give them guidance to life beyond the first workout. This would alleviate me having to hang around in my post-workout fugue state trying to jot down most of Starting Strength in their training log.

Below is an excerpt, covering arguably the most important part of the document. Comments encouraged.

So You’re Tired of Being Weak

A Frank Primer on Strength Training

Preface: Do You Need Strength Training?
or 
You’re Probably Weaker Than You Think You Are

Often times, the most influential factor that affects a person’s views towards strength training is their mistaken belief that they are strong. If this applies to you, there is a very simple way to dispel this belief.

Step 1: Figure out how much you can squat with a barbell on your back. Not how much you can push on the hack squat, knee extension, or whatever bulls**t machine: Put a barbell on your back, and squat until the crease of your hip goes below your knees and then stand up. Anything that stops before that critical ‘below parallel’ depth is a lie, and belongs in places where people lovingly gaze at their oiled bodies in the mirror for unhealthy periods of time. Repeat this 5 times: 5 squats without putting the bar back on the rack. Don’t be stupid: if your legs are buckling like a newborn foal before your knees even bend, put that bar back on the rack and revise your plans.

Step 2: Find your Weight and corresponding Max Squat on the Squat Standards charts below. If you squat less than the corresponding 5 rep max for your weight class, you are weak.

Men Body Weight 5 Rep Max 114 149 123 162 132 174 148 196 165 213 181 230 198 242 220 255 242 264 275 272 319 276 320+ 281

Women Body Weight 5 Rep Max 97 85 105 89 114 98 123 102 132 111 148 119 165 128 181 140 198 149 199+ 157

If, through this rigorous testing process, you have determined that you are weak, you now have a choice: you can continue to be weak, or you can adopt a strength training program. If you choose to adopt a strength training program, turn to Part 1: Your First Strength Program. If you do not, your continued non-compliance is unwelcome, and the world of strength training will bid you good day. I said GOOD DAY.

If you discovered you are strong: Congratulations. Give yourself a banana sticker. However, it should be noted that these numbers are minimums in the world of strength. It would behoove you to note that Louie Simmons has squatted 920 pounds. At age 50. After shattering his L-5 vertebra. Compare this with your squat. Contemplate this difference on the Tree of Woe. Most people who wish to get stronger beyond these minimum requirements will adopt an intermediate program, of which there are many. Two of these are addressed in Part 2: Intermediate Strength Programs.

Part 1: Your First Strength Program

or 

Linear Progression for Dummies

Congratulations on deciding to become strong.

Part 2: Intermediate Strength Programs

or 

Welcome to Funtown

You’ve made it this far. Good for you.

Things That Go Squat in the Night

Last weekend's max effort numbers:

Squat: 300x5 Raw

Bench: 225x5 Raw

I actually lost sleep thinking about one rep. Specifically squat rep number 3, because that's where I got pinned twice (kids, invest time in training your spotters). I wonder if Louie Simmons ever lay in bed staring at the ceiling, haunted by visions of his squat going off the rails.

All the other times I can't sleep at night, it's because of stuff like this:

More on where that chart's numbers came from later.

“It is not enough that we do our best; sometimes we must do what is required.”

The Road to 100% RAW

So it's been a few months since putting myself to the grindstone, and there are results to share.

Squat: 315lbs

Bench: 255lbs

Deadlift: 400lbs

Bodyweight: 190lbs

This is after a few months of Texas Method programming, all without a belt or supportive gear. My goal is to break 350lbs of squat completely raw and hopefully lean out to fit into the 181lb weight class before summer. My deadlift hasn't moved because I haven't done singles for quite some time: I'm sticking to 5 reps which are pinned at a magical number I came up with while staring at Lon Kilgore's strength standard tables. Right now I'm doing 325 with a double overhand grip, which I'm actually quite pleased with.

Other Items of Note

My programming helped a girl get her first pull-ups. Joanna banged out some doubles before X-Mas, and was doing strict big-kid push-ups in the 10-rep range. Next step: handstand push-ups.

The methods we used are nothing extraordinary. 3 sets of max reps before our conditioning work, with loading if the max reps climbed above 12. The thing that I noticed helped the most was frequency. Doing push-ups and pull-ups once a week led to stalling numbers, but alternating between push and pull days got everything moving again. Our schedule ended up looking like this:

M Push-ups

W Pull-ups

F Handstand Push-ups

M Supine Ring Pull-ups

W Push-Ups

F Pull-Ups

etc.

Lately, I've been wondering if there are any ways to further refine the system. The decline in reps from the first set is what troubles me the most: I wonder if we're just training too much failure when we could be shrewdly doing more quality reps.