I didn’t really wish her ill. I just dreaded her class and thought she was mean, though she wasn’t. She made herself available to answer questions and gave substantive and encouraging feedback, like any effective coach.

Also like any effective coach, she was clear about her expectations and our responsibilities: the stated purpose of the course was to teach us about pre-Civil War U.S. history. Another equally important purpose was to teach us critical thinking – how to formulate thesis statements about historical events and support our arguments with credible evidence.

Therein lay the problem: I could not do this, and my initial foray into learning how was about as enjoyable as food poisoning.

Growing Pains

Even today, I get anxious when I think about that course. Up until then, I’d had smooth sailing in school, with lots of smiley-face stickers, check-pluses, and 100 percents. This course was one of the first times I had to face the fact that the level of hard work and intelligence I had employed were not going to get me where I needed to go. I was going to have to step it up or die in the water, and I wasn’t sure if I had what it took. Later on, I would recognize this dynamic in my athletic endeavors.

“I discovered I was able to meet the academic demands of college. In graduate school, the written assignments came more easily to me than they seemed to for some of my peers.“

Some of my classmates and I keened and wailed about how impossible the work was and how frustrating our teacher was. With the benefit of hindsight and, I hope, some accumulated wisdom, I have learned that I did not like her or her course because they stretched me beyond my comfort zone. They made me question myself. Like my best coaches and my toughest athletic pursuits, they exposed my weaknesses and forced me to address them, when I would rather have continued thinking I was doing fine.

But then I would not have grown as a student and a person. I would not have been able to handle subsequent academic and professional demands nearly as well. Don’t get me wrong. I still make plenty of mistakes, have plenty left to learn, and feel plenty of fear and doubt. But the skills I learned in that course created the foundation for the intellectual work I have gone on to do since.

But creating that foundation was not easy; it took effort, mistakes, practice, patience, stick-to-itiveness, humility, and an appreciation for the small victories. All the things it takes to do anything worth doing, including anything athletic. All the things I hate.

Frustration Leads to Insight

During class periods, many of the other students and I had sat, sullen, staring daggers at our teacher. It was not until years later, long after I had put the significance of the Mayflower Compact and the Articles of Confederation out of my mind, that I started to realize what a gift that course had been, and what a gift my teacher had given me by insisting on more from me than I thought I could give and supporting me in giving it.

I discovered I was able to meet the academic demands of college. In graduate school, the written assignments came more easily to me than they seemed to for some of my peers. I started to notice my writing was considered strong and my ability to support my arguments with evidence solid, both in academic and professional settings. I had been well prepared. And I recognized this dynamic as I took on more athletic challenges as well: frustration with self and coach followed by breakthroughs.

“She gave her students spinach when they wanted candy, and they were healthier for it, even though they didn’t yet appreciate the value of health.“

Now I see things much more from my teacher’s perspective. Over time, I have morphed into a professor, an instructor, a coach. A teacher. I care about my students and how I am supporting their learning, whether it is in a classroom or on the mat. I understand it is my job to hold students to expectations and that this will cause frustration. But I also believe I am able to give students enough of what they need to get them to the next step. We are not perfect. But I do what I think is right, and I am confident in that.

Usually. Especially on the mat, there are those days when I am confronted with a sea of inscrutable faces, when the expressions on them could indicate anything from concentration to disgust to constipation. It is during those times, when my confidence is at low tide, that I must trust I am doing right by my students – based on experience and best practice, I am providing the right tools, asking the right questions, and making the right demands. I realize now how challenging it must have been for my teacher to encounter my and my classmates’ reactions – and lack thereof – day after day. Maybe she got used to teaching in a vacuum. I still have not.

The Tables Turn

Probably ten years later, I ran into this teacher. I made a beeline for her, and once I reminded her who I was, I talked so fast I stumbled over my words, wanting to tell her I had learned the importance of what she had taught us. I apologized for being a brat and said that I knew better now.

She laughed, saying she appreciated me approaching her. She said she believed in how she taught, even though she knew it could be painful for her students, because she knew, as I eventually realized, that it created a solid foundation for what came next. And she believed in us. But since most of her students sat through her course in a perpetual snit, like I had, and did not fully appreciate the value of the lessons until years later, like I had not, she did not often get to see transformations like the one I was able to share with her.

Now that I am the one making the instructional and coaching demands, I have become more able to appreciate the challenges she faced. Who doesn’t want to be liked? But that wasn’t her job. If it happened, that was nice. But if it didn’t, that was the price she paid for shepherding people who didn’t know what they didn’t know toward knowing more. She gave her students spinach when they wanted candy, and they were healthier for it, even though they didn’t yet appreciate the value of health. As coaches, we may find ourselves paying a similar price.

Tell Them about It

If there is a coach or teacher from your past whom you now know had a particularly positive influence on you, consider telling that person. She or he probably already knows. But I’m sure I speak for coaches and teachers everywhere when I say it is always nice to hear.

And if you are a coach or a teacher who gets down sometimes about whether you are getting through, keep on keeping on. The frustrated sighs and blank stares may actually signal that we have learning liftoff. Even if all that is registering for the student is panic, you can work with that.

“Now I see things much more from my teacher’s perspective. Over time, I have morphed into a professor, an instructor, a coach.“

Mrs. Anderson, this one’s for you. I’m grateful I got the chance to thank you for all you did for me – all you still do – once I figured out how to value it. (That last part was something I had to teach myself.)

Rest in peace.

Check out these related articles:

• Learning Sucks, But You Should Do It Anyway
• How to Learn From Both Success and Failure
• Don’t Always Take the Green Run: 5 Lessons From the Slopes
• What’s New On Breaking Muscle Today

Photos courtesy of Shutterstock.

The post Tough Lessons From My Teacher: Learning to Value Our Learning appeared first on Breaking Muscle.

This week’s articles are all about what the body needs – and how listening to our minds can sometimes lead us astray.

Editor’s Picks of the Week

Listen to Your Body for Fewer Injuries and Greater Progress

Coach Logan Christopher gives concrete examples of what happens when you don’t listen to your body, versus what can happen when you do. He also gives suggestions on how to check in with yourself just before a workout and then modify according to how you feel.

How to Coach New Clients: Don’t Go Too Far

When you get a new client, you can’t trust that he or she knows how to listen to his or her body. As a coach, you’ve got the be the eyes and ears for what your clients actually need. Coach Andrew Read shares mistakes he made as a beginner trainer and what he knows now.

Take Nothing for Granted: 9/11, CrossFit, and Breath

When you’re dealing with a chronic condition, you have to listen to your body in a whole different way than the average person or athlete. Coach Patrick McCarty shares this touching and impressive story of two athletes who worked Ground Zero and the health issues they now face.

The Modern Male and Body Image: It’s Okay to Talk About It

One of the biggest ways our bodies and minds are not in communication is in relation to our body image. We see ourselves differently than we physically are. We push ourselves or starve ourselves, rather than listening to the true needs of our bodies. Coach Amber Larsen explores this topic in regards to men, something not discussed often enough.

3 Simple Tools for Overcoming First Fight Jitters

When you are new to a sport or competing for the first time, the thoughts in your head can be so loud that you are not connected with your body, technique, and performance. Coach Jonathan Puu gives advice on how to handle your nerves before your first muay Thai match, but this advice would help for just about any athlete and any sport.

A Way to Meditate: For People Really Bad at Meditation

The disconnect between mind and body is there for all of us to some degree. One of the tools we can use to quiet our mind and hear our body is meditation. But if you’re having a hard time tuning in to your body, meditation can be a really hard thing! Coach Bethany Eanes shares some simple instructions on how to get quiet and listen.

Photo courtesy of Shutterstock.

The post 7 Important Lessons on Listening to Your Body appeared first on Breaking Muscle.

Here is the offending video that inspired this article:

First of all this is not a slight against Nike, because overall my experience with the company has been great, but this Turkish get up video demonstrates that even a huge company can get it completely wrong. (Here’s how to do it properly, by the way.) Even more surprisingly, this is part of a video series that includes Shawn Johnson, an Olympian, and plenty of other famous people in the fitness industry. Just because content features high profile coaches or athletes is not a guarantee that the information is legit. There are plenty examples of high-profile mistakes such as Jillian Michaels’ kettlebell video, which features her showing not only bad form, but also potentially risking serious injury.

The purpose of this article is not to slam people who make mistakes, but rather to use this as a learning opportunity and to make sure we don’t fall prey to misinformation. So how do you know if something is legit or you should forget you’ve ever seen it?

1. Look at the bottom of the article or video.

There should be citations.¹ Fitness articles are no different than academic research, and in fact the really good ones are the same. They should be based on valid evidence and ideas should be proven.

2. Compare and contrast.

If you research this topic do others tend to agree or disagree with the ideas and conclusions put forth?² Is high repetition Olympic lifting okay? Search it and find the differing opinions.

3. Reflect on challenges to your beliefs and values.

Did the article make intuitive sense and sit well with your current beliefs? Just because it challenges your thoughts doesn’t mean it’s wrong. In fact, if it challenges you it’s even more important to research the topic. You may just have stumbled upon a hidden gem and you may have to unlearn something you previously thought was correct.

4. Check the source.

Who generated this content? Ask yourself who they are and what their purpose was – both the author and the publisher. People don’t often write fitness articles for the fun of it. Usually the author is a coach looking for more traffic, a paid writer, or some variation of these two. Go to the author’s personal website and see what he or she is all about. Is this coach simply trying to sell you a product? Or does he or she have a genuine interest in helping people?

Critical learning is a skill and something that does not always come easily. It takes more time and effort than simply skimming an article and taking it as fact, but you’ll be pleased with the results. Then, once you employ the practice, the question becomes how you handle when you get bad advice.

If you are in a group setting and the coach or instructor is teaching something you think is wrong, what do you do? The first priority is always safety. If the instructor is putting people at risk, it is your responsibility to prevent this situation from turning bad. The best approach is to ask if you may have a moment of the instructor’s time and get away from the group. Challenging an instructor’s authority in front of the group puts everyone in an awkward position. The coach will respect you more and be more open to criticism or advice if taken aside. If the problem is something minor that doesn’t risk injury, then chances are it can wait until the end of class. If the instructor doesn’t agree with your input, provide him or her with information. At this point if you cannot get on the same wavelength you may want to look for a different place to train.

More often the situation comes up that you find bad information online. An article is written telling you it’s okay for a beginner to perform 500+ impacts in a plyometric session. How do you address this? Usually the more tactful and respectful your approach the better results you will get. Sending a private message or email to the author can be more effective than blasting him or her in the comments section. Let the author know, “Hey, I don’t agree with that article. Here is some research why.” See if the response you get is positive, or better yet, if the author changes what was written. Readers can respect an honest mistake that is corrected, but not one that is covered up. Give the author a chance before you let others know this information isn’t so great.

Together as a fitness community we can make a difference. Comment on posts that you really like, or ones you don’t agree with. Share quality information with your friends. Let writers know what topics you want to hear about. Become a part of the solution and help everyone to become fitter, healthier, and happier.

References:

1. Judy Hunter, “The Importance of Citation,” Grinnell College.

2. “Comparing and Contrasting,” The Writing Center, accessed September 16, 2013.

3. “7 Critical Reading Strategies,” Salisbury University, accessed September 16, 2013.

The post Critical Learning: How to Read and Respond to Fitness Info on the Internet appeared first on Breaking Muscle.

Qualitative research, on the other hand, is considered to be far more interpersonal, providing researchers with the opportunity to understand a phenomenon in-depth from the perspective of the individuals involved with it. There are no correlations or statistical predictions. Rather, qualitative data generally takes the form of words – descriptions, testimony, documents, artifacts. It is reflective. It is important to note that while this type of research tends to be more intimate, it is no less rigorous in terms of methods and safeguards used to maximize credibility and quality. More on that later.

In a way, those of us who train on a sports team, at an academy, or in a club are positioned to participate in qualitative research ourselves. We become involved in the context in question, we enculturate ourselves vis-à-vis appropriate and accepted behavior, and we make connections with others in the group for the purposes of gathering information. (We make these connections for other reasons as well, of course.) Further, we informally use some of the techniques common to qualitative research, including observation, which is the taking in of information with our senses.

Namely, how can we learn to grapple/weightlift/play basketball/ice skate if not by watching, listening, feeling, and so on? We see the hip placement of a triangle choke. We feel the weightlessness of the bar during a clean, specifically that moment when we can pull ourselves underneath. We hear the swish of a nothing-but-net basket. In other words, our senses of sight, hearing, touch, and even taste (ever chomped on your lip so hard you drew blood?) and smell (I like to call it “excellence”) provide us with vital information that helps us improve our technique, our ability to interact appropriately in our chosen athletic context, and our capacity for aha moments.

That being said, one of the things I always counsel my students to do when they practice observation for the course is one of the things they generally find exceedingly difficult. I specifically ask them to try to make observations that are devoid of interpretation, instead allowing their senses to do the work, with the idea that meaning-making comes later. I advise them to note their observations in terms of sense data, rather than in terms of the significance they might assign to them a priori. Perhaps you can see why this could be difficult: we are primed to see what we want to see (“see” used in this case as “comprehend”), and what we want to see is influenced by our prior experiences, particularly if we have an emotional attachment to what we are observing.

Frequently students in my classes report things like, “The woman was sad.” But this is not information taken in with the senses. It is a conclusion. Sense data would be something like, “The woman was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief and hugging the man next to her.” Of course if the observation took place at a funeral, it might be reasonable to interpret the woman’s behavior as indicative of sadness, but emphasis is on the word “might.” After all, perhaps she was having an allergy attack and greeting a relative.

The point is, we run the risk of losing something in skipping straight to interpretation, both in formal observations and also in our athletic contexts. The goal in gathering observational data is to be able to amass enough of it to make accurate conclusions that reasonably rule out other possible conclusions.

In an athletic context, observation without interpretation, and the corresponding increase in our ability to stay dispassionate, can be vital. If we become too emotional, we might chalk up what we observe to negative, persistent attributes about ourselves rather than useful information we can use to improve. Think about these comments, which are, unfortunately, sometimes part of my own self-talk:

• “I f*cked up.”
• “I’ll never get this.”
• “Everyone probably thinks I’m an idiot.”

Not a smidgen of sense data to be found. How much different do these sound:

• “When my partner executed the move on me, I saw that she kept her hips square in a way I didn’t.”
• “I heard the coach tell me again that I need to turn to my side to apply pressure.”
• “I tripped and fell over my gym bag.”

Maybe I’d still rather the second set of examples didn’t happen (especially that third one), but they are a lot easier to process dispassionately if I phrase them this way. And they provide useful information that I can act on. In my case, articulating information in terms of what my senses tell me gives me a buffer between what is happening and my knee-jerk, emotionally-charged reactions about what is happening.

So the next time you enter your gym, school, or academy, commit to withholding judgment until a later time. Rather, take in stimuli with your senses and explain to yourself what you are taking in in terms of your senses. Then, see whether doing so affords you more useful information than automatically applying meaning and interpretation that may not be accurate. And post your experiences to comments.

Photos courtesy of Shutterstock.

The post May I Make an Observation? The Benefit of Letting Our Senses Do the Work appeared first on Breaking Muscle.

I have no doubt that many of you have had similar experiences. Perhaps you have gone into a session feeling good and ready, but when it came to lifting, it felt like you had never snatched before. Or perhaps you have come home from a training session feeling disappointed that you have not hit a personal record?

You have high expectations of yourself, and that is a good thing.

So how do you deal with a training session that is not going according to plan?

Firstly, let’s take a harsh look at your expectations. Is your training session so bad? You’re not going to have an ideal training session day-in, day-out. There are plenty of reasons for that – recovery, sleep, and lifestyle to name a few. And what gives you the right to hit PRs most sessions? Given that this was probably the case when you first started out, you could be forgiven for expecting it to continue in this way. Unfortunately, once this honeymoon period is over, continuous PRs are rarely the case.

So, having realigned our expectations, perhaps what we previously considered a bad session is not actually that bad after all. What does a bad training session actually look like? Let’s flip this for a second and outline what defines a good training session.

The moment of change for me came when I stopped thinking in terms of PRs, and started thinking in terms of progress. Sure, all PRs are progress. But progress is not all about PRs. Hitting a PR through adding weight can be termed an increase in intensity. However, an increase in intensity is only part of the picture. In what other ways do we progress within our training?

I believe in the mantra of “Mechanics, Consistency, and Intensity” – in that order. When learning a new skill or movement, basic mechanics are the foundation upon which everything else is built. An improvement in mechanics from one session to another is the progress that is relevant here. Any related increase in intensity is almost secondary. Progress of a mechanical nature is relatively easy to observe from session to session.

The next step is to dial in these mechanics through their consistent application. We’ve all been there when learning a new skill – one session you have it, and the next session you don’t. Being able to consistently apply an improvement in mechanics is progress. It is more than likely that increases in intensity will happen alongside this naturally as you become more consistent in your proficiency. However, our focus is on this regularity of mechanical improvement. Compared to initial improvements in mechanics, this is not as easy to pick up on from session to session.

Lastly, an improvement in intensity through adding weight, as we have discussed, is perhaps the most obvious form of progress during a session. Progress through going heavier will follow progress in mechanics and consistency – adding significant weight before this foundation has been laid is ill-founded progress. (It is worth noting here that adding weight is only one way of increasing intensity – but that is the subject of another article.)

Therefore, if mechanics, consistency, and intensity improvements are all aspects of progress, and making progress is what defines whether a training session is good, then advancing any of these aspects within your training session is both progress and positive.

Now, let’s revisit our original question – how do you deal with a bad training session? Firstly, having now worked out what a good, progressive training session looks like, the next time you feel like you are in the middle of a bad training session, take a breath and a step back. Assess whether you have actually progressed in any of the above measures. If so, you are winning.

I’m not oblivious to the fact that there are times when none of these hold true and you really are having a bad day at the office. Let’s say you are missing lifts that you would usually make with your eyes closed with unnerving consistency. Hold on a minute, there’s that word again – consistency.

If you are consistently missing these lifts throughout the session, assess if your inconsistency is consistent. Are your missed lifts due to making the same error over and over again? Try to diagnose your fault – ask a coach, video yourself, or whatever you need to do to assess where you are going wrong. Once you have found the cause, work out how to correct the fault and fix your lift. If you don’t manage this within the session, it’s still not a big deal. Go away and research how to improve, so that if and when it happens again you are in a position to deal with it.

BOOM! You have just turned your bad training session into not only a better one, but a good one. Why good? Because you have learnt how to assess and, more importantly, correct your mistakes. Actually, this goes one step further. By learning specific strategies for how to get yourself out of a hole, you are learning how to fight your way through a tough training session and still take something away from it.

Let’s look at one more scenario, the worst case scenario where none of this works. You are unable to make amends within the session and are not able to assess where you are going wrong, even after the event and with the help of others. In these marginal cases, take another step back, and review your recovery, sleep, nutrition, stress levels, and other lifestyle factors. Often, all it takes is a simple review of these things to realize something is out of the ordinary, and this has carried over negatively into your training. If this is the case, get it sorted. If you are not sure what ordinary is, now is a good time to start keeping a log of these things so you can look back on it and learn about how you work best.

I have a confession. I’m afraid I lied to you earlier. For those of you who have made it this far into the article, I will let you in on a secret. The real turning point in coming away from my training sessions like a grinning chimp rather than a scorned silverback was when I understood that progress is just a part of the truth. The whole truth is that learning is the key to getting benefit from almost any session. Is progress learning? Damn straight. Even getting a PR is your body learning how to make that happen.

Learning is valuable. A bad training session is in fact more valuable than a good one.

This article is not meant to serve as an excuse for not hitting PRs or continually train in a mediocre manner. It provides another lens through which to view your training sessions, and a checklist to go through when things are tough to help you continue to progress, learn and be happy.

Photos provided by CrossFit LA.

The post How to Deal with a Bad Training Session appeared first on Breaking Muscle.

The thing is, I don’t think it needs to be modified. (As I say, great collaboration.) So, since he asked, and since I think this is a compelling topic, below is the article this reader wrote about the fist bump/hand slap grapplers usually perform at the beginning of a training round. The reader’s name is John Nygaard, and he is a major in the United States Air Force, currently assigned to the Pentagon. In addition to running the Pentagon Combatives Club, John has been studying BJJ at Fifty/50 BJJ for eleven months.

Thanks for reading, commenting, and writing, John. Here goes:

It’s one of the most common moves in BJJ and submission grappling. Most of us do it every time we roll. And I’d argue it’s also the most overlooked move there is. I’m talking about the handslap/fistbump between two individuals that almost always kicks off a sparring session. I’ve always been curious to know how many of us who practice the art of BJJ and submission grappling have actually taken a few moments to ponder what it means.

My hunch tells me that many people have given it little thought, regarding the handslap/fistbump as nothing more than a universally accepted means of stating, “I’m ready to begin.” It establishes some level of synchronicity between sparring partners so that one does not begin prematurely and catch the other off guard (either by mistake or by intentionally being at least a little deceitful to gain an advantage). For others, it may at times simply mean, “Bring it on.”

But to me, its meaning is much deeper and much more serious than either of those.

In the movie, The Karate Kid, one of the key turning points is the scene when Mr. Miyagi agrees to teach karate to Daniel-san. During this scene, Mr. Miyagi places a headband around Daniel-san’s head and states that they are forming a “sacred pact” between student and teacher. The pact, in essence, was that Mr. Miyagi would fully devote himself to teaching and that Daniel-san must fully devote himself to learning.

I view the handslap/fistbump as a very similar pact between my partner and me. This pact is a statement to my sparring partner where I am conveying to him/her, “I agree to make your safety my top priority, and I also agree to do all I can to facilitate your learning.” First, I don’t think the safety aspect of this pact can be overstated. Whether you’re simply beginning a light flow roll or preparing to test your limitations to the fullest extent over the next few minutes, safety in this art takes on more significance perhaps than in any other unarmed martial art. After all, you and your partner are essentially fighting without strikes.

The physical feedback, as we all know, is immediate and often crushing. Letting your partner know that despite doing your best to break them down, subdue them, and force them to submit or face unconsciousness or injury, you intend on making this experience safe, positive, and productive can place them at ease, earn their trust, and facilitate a mutually beneficial experience. This is critically important to me because my mat time is quite limited. I strive to make the most of each session. And that includes conducting myself in a way that mitigates as much as possible both injury and injuring, which would otherwise translate to days and even weeks of begrudging absence from the mat.

The other aspect of this pact is the learning. I am very eager to learn with each sparring session. And as I’ve already stated, mat time for me is at a premium. I can never seem to get as much as I want. So I’m always looking for ways to maximize the time I spend during each class. And the interesting paradox I have found is that by placing the needs of my partner ahead of my own, instead of taking a purely self-focused approach, I actually seem to improve my learning curve, which, as a white belt, is quite steep. But it’s difficult to remain in this mindset as the adrenaline begins to flood your system.

There are several things I try to recite in my head as I roll. It has to be a very deliberate recitation, too, because I forget them with embarrassing ease. The first is to remember to breathe, preferably in an even, controlled manner. The second is to remember not to go for the tap – the kill, the finish – but to focus on properly executing the technique I’m doing right that second. Whether it’s a guard pass, stripping my opponent’s hooks, or bumping out of side control, focusing intensely on execution rather than the end result of what I’m trying to achieve should be at the forefront. But if I also roll with the mindset of, “What is my partner trying to do? What are they trying to achieve?” then I’ve found I’m able to learn simultaneously with my partner, rather than individually with a singular stream of input and feedback. 

The handslap/fistbump, with its implied agreement, helps me start off a sparring session correctly, enabling me to frame those things as readily accessible in my mind – even in the midst of excitement and, at times, panic.

Hopefully taking this quick little gesture a little more seriously, giving it more thought as to what it means to you and what it can bring to your game (and your partner’s game) will help you achieve what you’re after – efficiently and safely.

Photos provided by David Brown Photography.

The post The Secret Pact of the BJJ Fistbump appeared first on Breaking Muscle.

Many people these days will turn away from adversity. They’ve made themselves too comfortable. Newton’s first law pretty much says that an object at rest will remain at rest unless it has its ass kicked in order to get it moving. Did you know that obesity statistics show that if you are forty or more years old and overweight or obese you are likely to stay that way until you die? I won’t go into all the possible psychological reasons behind many people’s obesity, but being comfortable with having a completely reversible life-threatening condition is, to me, odd. Changing shape – in this case going from being motionless on the couch – will require a special kind of kick in the ass, particularly if that individual has been at rest for some time.

One of the things I like most about training is that the mental strength you get from training – the discipline, the ability to persevere and the ability to withstand hardship – all transfer to the rest of our lives. Like getting up when it’s cold and dark outside and running anyway because your plan says to, or juggling kids, training, and other chores so that you fit them all in. And all this makes managing your time at work seem easy in comparison.

Over the last twelve months I’ve had more fun training than I have had in years. There are two main reasons. Firstly, it’s because training for Ironman Melbourne meant I’ve been training outside. Vitamin D is part of a healthy and happy body, and I’ve found that I really enjoy being outside a lot more than I remembered. Over the last four weeks since Ironman I’ve felt nowhere near as happy or content as I did leading up to it. So the first thing people should do is get outside. Winter in Australia isn’t anywhere near as harsh as some other places, but I managed to train outdoors all last year. I’m a firm believer that training outside prevents colds as well as reduces allergies.

The second reason, the main one, is simple: learning a new thing is awesome. It has been a great journey to be able to focus on learning the ins and outs of a new sport (in my case, triathlon). From training to gear to eating to planning out my weeks to fit it all in the last year has been a great educational experience. Along with the knowledge I’ve gained, which will help my clients enormously, I’ve had great fun seeing my skills in the three triathlon disciplines increase too. Most of my training has been fairly stagnant for years, so being involved in something where I got to see increases regularly again was great.

But now that’s finished and what do I do? While I have plans to do some more racing again over summer, I also want to have a bit of fun in a structured variety kind of way. This transitional period between specific preparation and beginning the same thing again for next summer is typically called the transition phase and it’s useful to let the body and mind freshen up for more training later.

During this period I have some odd sounding goals:

Stretch more. I used to “almost” be able to do the splits. I’m pretty sure I can get back to not just “almost” but actually doing the splits. It’s going to take some work though. Believe it or not, hard stretching, like the kind required to get to the splits as an adult, is every bit as taxing as a hard weight lifting session and can leave you sore for days.

Mastering the way my body moves is a large part of my current goals. It may sound childish but part of this goal is a good cartwheel in both directions. Like many, I can do one side but not the other with any semblance of skill. I’ll be happy when they both look the same.

A freestanding handstand is a good goal. I’ve been working on that for about two months now. One of the reasons I want more flexibility is so that I can hold both a pike and straddle position better. (And a straddle sit to handstand just looks cool).

On top of those three goals I’m going to stick with a pared down outdoor training plan that sees me continue running, swimming, and riding a bit, so I keep getting my precious outdoor fix even during our winter. I noticed today that my esteemed editor, Becca Borawski, has started to experience that when she gets outside and starts her day with a two to three mile walk the rest of the day is better.

What’s the point of all this? To have some fun. I’m writing this a day after teaching a Primal Move certification where we place a lot of emphasis on fun. Coincidentally, it also happens to be the day of the Boston Marathon bombing. Right now the world could use some fun and it could use looking at things from a new perspective. Learning new skills, meeting new people, and seeing things from a fresh perspective could be quite good right now. The long-term gains from learning a new skill will pay off in the long run by leaving you free from burn out, injury, and boredom.

Go have some fun.

Photos courtesy of Shutterstock.

The post Do Cartwheels: Why You Need Learning and Fun in Your Training appeared first on Breaking Muscle.

My parents, in an effort to not have shoelace tying be the thing that would prevent me from access to an education, began what was in essence a shoe-tying boot camp. Every afternoon I would practice with my mother, watching her perform the skill and attempting to replicate it with my soft, puffy, little fingers. Every night my father would come home from work and ask me to demonstrate.

For some reason it always made sense when I watched my mother, but when I tried it myself I could only ever get one loop to form. Like little one-eared rabbits, my shoelaces inevitably turned out unsymmetrical. Being put on the spot by my father invoked a great deal of anxiety as well, so the only knots properly formed each evening were the ones in my stomach.

Night after night I could only make one loop happen, no matter how intently and slowly my father demonstrated. “Like this. See?” he would say after cringing at my failed performance. And I would try again. I remember thinking it was like magic as I bent and wound the laces. I would make that final pull and say a little prayer for two ears. No, only one. Night after night. Again and again.

And then it was the last night. The meeting would be the next morning. My father would go to work. My mother and I would go to the school. I sat on the floor in front of my father, not wanting to start the process. My heart beat in my ears and I stared at the laces. I twisted them, pushing them with my fingers and willing them with my mind. And this time, when I made the final pull a miracle occurred. Two ears. Two loops. A proper knot. Relief and exaltation. I would be allowed into school after all. I went to my room to enjoy a celebratory night of reading.

The next day my mother and I met with the teacher. She spoke to me about my interests. She asked me about my favorite books. And then she asked me to tie my shoe. I was nervous, but I was confident I remembered just how my father showed me. I played it out in my mind. I knelt down for the ultimate execution of the task.

And there was only one ear where the previous night there had been two.

I was struck silent. My mother was still. The teacher stared at my shoe. My final performance was, without question, an utter failure.

The teacher paused, and then smiled. “How about we give kindergarten a test run?” she offered. She suggested I go home and practice my shoe tying a bit more.

When my father came home that night he asked how I did. I told him I hadn’t been able to tie my shoes properly. “But you did it last night!” he exclaimed.

And I have done it at least a million times since. It’s so simple now I don’t even remember to think about it. I have to stop and imagine the process in my head to even recognize there is a process. And so it is with everything we learn.

When you first picked up a barbell, dumbbell, or kettlebell, it felt awkward and strange. You would watch the instructor demonstrate and fail in your replication. It felt alien. It felt impossible. And now you pick it up every day like it’s nothing. It used to be that a kettlebell snatch was hard. Now it’s like reciting the alphabet.

But we forget that once things were hard. We expect that everything should be as easy as it is now. We get mad at ourselves when we don’t understand, when we don’t perform, when we don’t learn instantaneously. So I ask you to remember when it was different. Remember when you didn’t know. Remember when you couldn’t do anything.

Learning is hard. It is uncomfortable, even painful. Learning sucks, but you should do it anyway. You will practice and practice. You will fail. Your nerves will get the better of you and you’ll forget all over again. But I can tell you I gained some valuable things from learning to tie my shoes that have nothing to do with laces:

• Being good at one thing doesn’t make you good at everything.
• New skills require experiencing the learning process all over again.
• The support of others is important in your success.
• The level of artistry in your work says nothing about the value of you.

So I wish you today a day full of funny-looking knots, failed lifts, toppled box jumps, and bungled technique. I wish you a week of failure and a month of misses. And at the end of it all I wish that you forget that you learned, but not what you learned.

Keep working. Keep trying. And in the face of adversity you never know what might come along to save you. As my mother still likes to joke today, “If only we’d had Velcro back then, you’d have been okay.”

Photos courtesy of Shutterstock.

The post Learning Sucks, But You Should Do It Anyway appeared first on Breaking Muscle.

I’m here to tell you that if I’m any indication, there is nothing effortless about the berimbolo. German and I spent maybe an hour and a half drilling the sequence, and as we worked together, I thought about the movements, of course, and about how to get all the details down. As part of that, I also thought at times about tearing my hair out or banging my head against the wall when I wasn’t able to get my body and my brain to synch up. (Sometimes learning sucks.) German has more facility with the movement pattern than I do, and he was kind enough to give me some cues and suggestions for how to think about moving my body.

And while I was contorting, I also thought about the way we were working together and what our learning process was. It occurred to me that over time, as I drilled the move and got feedback from German about how my positioning felt, I became able to execute more and more details of the sequence appropriately.

Back in the day in behavioral research circles, scientists like B. F. Skinner would shape the behavior of pigeons using rewards, such as food pellets. If the desired behavior was that the pigeon would eventually peck at a lever, the scientists would start out by rewarding the pigeon simply for looking in the direction of the lever. Eventually, they would require more specific behaviors, and the pigeon would then receive a reward for walking to the lever, pecking near the lever, and eventually pecking the lever itself. This shaping of behavior resulted in something called “successive approximations,” where, with appropriate motivation, even a pigeon could learn a desired behavior by slowly, over time, engaging in actions that more and more closely resembled that behavior.

When I was drilling the sequence with German, I was tense, whatever the opposite of “crisp” would be in this context, and, as it turns out, only able to nail some of the important elements of the sequence at a time. For instance, as I inverted, I didn’t roll all the way through, which made it more difficult for me to raise German’s hips off the ground so I could get under them. So the next time, I’d make a point of rolling all the way through, but then I’d neglect to keep tension on German’s hip with my knee, something I had actually been doing effectively in previous reps. And then I’d have to try to get the tension back while still rolling through and then adding onto that keeping my head as close to German’s body as possible while inverted. So, slowly but surely, I incorporated more and more of the component movements of the sequence into my execution of the sequence, taking a step or two forward and then a step or two back.

I have experienced this with weight lifting as well. As I back squat, on one rep I may keep my chest up but allow my knees to collapse. And then on the next rep if I am able to keep my chest up and drive my knees out simultaneously, I may not break parallel.

I’m not saying German and I are pigeons, especially because in these cases the motivation is my own intrinsic desire to be able to execute the movements smoothly and effectively. (Though now I keep thinking, “Mmm…pellets.”) For me, the idea of successive approximations provides more fodder for my coaching and learning processes. As an athlete, I can see that the fact it will take me multiple reps (we’re talking thousands) to be able to berimbolo at anything even slightly approaching a Mendes level is part of the process, not some kind of shortcoming on my part. I may never execute nearly as well as Mendes, but over time, with work, I can become a lot better at it than I am now, and I’m already better at it than I was before I worked with German.

As a coach, the idea of successive approximations does a couple things for me. First, it requires that I have and can communicate a clear understanding of what the desired end behavior is. Second, it requires that I have and can communicate a clear understanding of the component parts of that desired end behavior. And finally, it gives me information on individuals and in the aggregate about which elements of that end behavior might be the most difficult to execute and require the most additional support.

So the next time you find yourself taking two steps forward and one step back while learning a new sequence or even trying to refine a familiar one, try to think about this as part of the process rather than a failing. And as a coach, if you see your athlete executing only some of the cues you have given, remember that this is the first step – the first approximation – which will eventually lead to a reasonable execution of the desired behavior.

Photo courtesy of Shutterstock.

The post Successive Approximations: What the Berimbolo Taught Me About Learning appeared first on Breaking Muscle.

The study consisted of 48 young subjects who were randomly placed into 3 groups: a PRE group (exercise before motor practice), a POST group (exercise after motor practice), and rest group (the control). Each group practiced a visuomotor accuracy-tracking task (AT) either before or after an intense bout of cycling or after rest. Motor skill acquisition was assessed for each subject during practice and retention of those skills was measured 1 hour, 24 hours, and 7 days after practice.¹

On their first day subjects performed 10 trials of the AT to measure their baseline performance. After the baseline measurements were taken, the rest group members rested in bed for 20 minutes, whereas subjects in the PRE group completed a rigorous 20-minute cycling exercise protocol. After the resting period (control) or the performance of the exercise bout subjects practiced the AT.²

The POST group practiced the AT first then performed 20 minutes of intense cycling. After practice, the control and PRE group subjects were placed in a hospital bed to rest for 1 hour. The POST group had a 40 minute rest period, which resulted in 1 hour of rest since it took place at the end of practice and the first test of motor skills retention. Each subject was not allowed to listen to music nor sleep during the rest period.³

To evaluate the impact of exercise on the short-term retention of the motor skill, a retention test of the AT was performed after the rest period. The impact of exercise on the long-term retention was assessed with a retention test of 24 hours and 7 days after practicing the AT.⁴

Just what was the AT? The AT was a test performed by each subject, while sitting in front of two computer screens, with a device in their right hand. The main screen displayed a target consisting of a fixed double sine wave curve that the subject had to track with the device they were holding. The second screen displayed visual feedback by showing a series of white dots in a coordinate axis.⁵

The results of the study did not show any significant differences in the rate of motor skill acquisition. However, both groups that performed exercise showed a significantly better retention of the motor skill 24 hours and 7 days after practice. Compared to the subjects who exercised before practice, the subjects who exercised afterwards showed a better retention of the motor skill 7 days after practice.⁶

What these findings indicate is that one bout of intense exercise performed immediately before or after practicing a motor task is sufficient to improve the long-term retention of a motor skill. The positive effect of exercise on motor memory is further increased when it is performed immediately after practice, which is during the early stages of memory consolidation.

Can you relate this information to your workouts? How could this information be useful in helping you become a better athlete?

Photo courtesy of Shutterstock.

The post Exercise Aids in Retention of New Motor Skills appeared first on Breaking Muscle.

Sticking your finger down your throat yet?

I know, I know. These old saws have been thrown around and placed on bumper stickers so often they sound like the kind of thing a waitress with a heart of gold or a self-styled religious guru would say. They’ve lost all meaning. (Kind of like the word “tartlets” in that episode of Friends where Jon Lovitz guest starred as a food critic.) But this is sad, because the message is a good one.

The takeaway from all of these somewhat tired adages is that we have to bite off – and devote time to – a manageable chunk if we want to make progress. And over time, enough manageable chunks will take us farther than we ever thought possible. In anything.

When starting to put together a 1000-piece puzzle, chances are you employ a strategy for making incremental progress. Maybe you find all the edge pieces. Or maybe you look for a part of the puzzle that has a notable color scheme. You don’t just try to blast through the entire puzzle all at once, randomly choosing pieces and trying to force them together. The more effective strategy is to break the task down into sections, enabling you to see where you can make small connections that lead to larger ones. Further, you aren’t likely to make straight-line progress. Instead, sometimes you’ll try a piece here and there, until you find where it fits. Other times, after some work, you’ll be able to put big chunks of the puzzle together; but then still other times you’ll struggle – and even fail – to fit one piece before you pack it in for the day.

Okay, I’m running the risk of becoming hackneyed myself. If you train Brazilian jiu-jitsu and have ever answered “EVERYTHING” to the question from your instructor of “What do you need to work on?” you probably know what I’m driving at with this analogy and these sayings. Claiming you need to work on everything results in you working on nothing. So, in anticipation of that question from your instructor, think about where you like to play from. Think about the difficulties you have when you play from there. Construct a list of 2-4 things you could work on, and then commit to working on them.

This means drilling. It means positional sparring. It means taking notes and refining details. It means the unglamorous side of BJJ – the repetition and the commitment of those reps to muscle memory. But it’s that unglamorous stuff that leads to the slo-mo Neo-in-the-Matrix dodging the bullets stuff – once in a great while – where in a rolling session or a tournament match you see your opening a mile away and seem to be unable to fail, no matter what you do. In those cases, the only thing missing is the sunglasses and the rad black trench coat – you look that badass.

If that’s not enough motivation to start small and work from there, I’ll leave you with another adage. I won’t say it’s hackneyed, because then the source’s ghost will come back and kick my ass. But just remember it was a wise man who said, “I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times.”

Thank you in advance, ghost of Bruce Lee, for not dropping me like a ton of bricks.

The post Start Small to Learn Big: Learning in Manageable Pieces appeared first on Breaking Muscle.

For instance, I teach the snatch pull as a combination of only three component parts or positions. You have to master these three positions before we go anywhere else. It does you no good to try and get to the next step if you can’t even do these right!

The basic moves are not complicated to understand. They are very simple all by themselves. The trouble is our brains can often confuse the word basic with the word easy. If that happens, then you’ll miss the point completely.

To get good at anything, you’ve got to work your tail off on the simplest things.

Knowing Is Easier Than Doing

Anyone can understand WHAT is supposed to happen in a complex motion like the snatch relatively quickly. Snatching is tricky, but it ain’t rocket science. There are a sequence of movements your body has to make, each with its own rules, and so long as you get those about 90% correct, you’ll be golden.

But, it’s the last bit of that line that presents the problem, “so long as you get those about 90% correct …”

You can’t just KNOW what to do, you have to DO it.

Coaches learn pretty quickly that any knowledge they have about the proper way to do things is worthless if they can’t find a way to get their athletes to actually do them. When they first start, they’ll over-explain every little detail, believing accuracy and detail are the keys to understanding.

The opposite is the case. Beginners need complex information filtered down into simple bite-sized pieces at first. And they need this stuff to become intuitive. That takes time and work. There is no other way.

Let me give you a few examples of this for people who are first learning the snatch.

Example One: Getting the Knees Back

In both the snatch and the clean, when the bar is at your knees (literally touching the knee cap), your shins should be perpendicular to the ground. If you don’t do this, the bar will have to zigzag around the knees on the way up.

I always explain this carefully to new lifters. “The bar needs a nice easy path from the floor to the hip,” I say. “Don’t get in its way!”

Inevitably, within a few attempts, they will fail to get the knees back … They understood me completely. But, their body hasn’t caught up yet.

Example Two: Finishing the Pull

A good finish on the pull requires you to get your hips “through.” That means your hips get to a point where they are hyperextending just a bit. That look of “back bending” that you see Olympic weightlifters doing is misleading. They are not extending with the lower back, they are pushing the hips forward which looks awfully similar.

If you don’t finish your pull, at least two things could happen that are bad. First, you’ll not put as much power on the bar as you could have. You’ll lift less weight. Second, you’ll likely leave the bar out front – it won’t get back far enough. You’ll miss weights you could have made because they are way too far forward.

You have to finish your pull on every lift. That is a concept that is remarkably easy to understand. And yet, nearly every lifter suffers from NOT finishing their pull when the weights get heavy. Get up to a heavy weight, and you’ll probably freak out and not finish. It happens to everyone.

Example Three: Getting a Good Start

There is a high correlation of a strong finish with a strong start. If you don’t pull the bar off the floor in the right way, and like clockwork on every lift, then you will never develop a good finish either.

The big issue for most lifters is starting with the shoulders out in front of the bar. You want the shoulders back behind the bar – or at least right above it. If you can do that, then you’ll be setting yourself up to pull the bar right up over your ‘base’ (which is what I think of as the center of gravity of you and the bar combined.)

Start wrong, and your entire pull will suffer. Finishing the pull is hard enough to do correctly as it is. Imagine how much harder it is when the bar is way out in front of your center of gravity.

This start position needs to become absolutely locked in. You should start the same way every time, every lift, no matter what is on the bar. But, being this robotic about something doesn’t come natural to a dynamic animal like a human. Every little movement of the snatch should look exactly the same on every lift at all times. Sounds good, but holy heavens is that hard to do!

Bottom Line

It doesn’t matter what the task or skill is that you are trying to learn, the way to bridge the gap between KNOWING and DOING is the same:

1. Discover what the basics are.
2. Figure out the simplest way to break those down into simple bites.
3. Hammer the living heck out of those until you can do them without thinking anymore.

I told you to stay simple and basic, not to take it easy. There’s a difference!

The post Simple Don’t Mean Easy – Knowing vs. Doing appeared first on Breaking Muscle.