Getting used to it

Chris Moore

Posted on May 14th, 2013

It’s silly to feel certain about anything. There is just too much tough, greasy truth out there to chew on. The wise among us simply read and digest what they can, celebrating this stupefying complexity with a smile and a few margaritas alongside curious friends.

In the end that is what’s best in life.

Still, I’m pretty damn confident about one thing – Most of us are operating well below our capability. This immediately sounds bad, but that is not necessarily so. We can’t be expected to maximize everything all the time, right? This is when it helps to be realistic. The ends do not always justify the means, the labor, or the risks. Battles must be picked carefully.

I’m not sure where our characteristic restraint comes from. It must be some mix of calculated laziness and defense, as if holding back is the safe and surefire path towards a stable and injury free future. Who knows? But in any case, this is hardly a guarantee. We need to learn to dismantle this inherent mechanism if we want to achieve our best, whether it’s in business, barbells or all-you-can-eat hot wing competitions. We need to get used to more.

For now, think of your brain as a picky toddler at the dinner table. No matter what is offered, she will turn her head and shout, “No!” Your job as the parent here is to get that food down, with coaxing or trickery where necessary. Sure it’s a bit of a hack, but if you can get just a little bit of food in that mouth, the toddler will quickly realize that this is really something they want. Our minds are no different. Give a taste of something more and the defenses and inhibition will start to come down. At first you start to believe that more is possible, then you will grow to expect it. That’s a big deal.

Let me regress to my meathead ways and share a lifting story with you. I’m terrible at the front squat. Blame it on years and years of assuming a less than ideal bent-over posture during lifting, or simply call it laziness. Say your worst.

One of the best front squatters alive.

I’ve always hated that lift, so I never gave it any measure of focus. That all changed recently. As you might have gathered from my writings, I think it’s a damn good idea to face your goats head on, dismantling the weakness entirely, or at very least, learning to suck less with time! I changed my mind for one simple reason: it’s too easy to keep doing what you are good at. Also, it’s pretty unrewarding. The wiser, more fulfilling, more virtuous path requires that we pick up a fresh chunk of wood and shape it into something new and useful. Here, the wood was my bad posture and the front squat was the razor sharp tool.

The first few sessions were predictable – I hated it. Progress was coming very, very slowly, and worse still, I was not getting any more comfortable with it. I was talking myself out of this pursuit. But that’s when I changed my approach.

First, I started front squatting every day to something heavy. Well, at least five to six days per week. Because I’m such a novice in this lift, I knew my brain was in the way, holding back effort, using dread as a weapon against me. I was completely untrained in the lift, so there was no way I could overdo it! So, I turned this disadvantage around. A shot of frequency gave me time to practice my positions and get used to the activity under an accelerated timetable. To be honest, I started to look forward to the front squats within the first week or so of the change. That’s how quickly things started to shift.

Second, I use overload as my quick and dirty hack. After my heavy work sets I perform an extra three or four rounds, adding about 30-50 pounds per set. Do I try and squat this? No! That would be a terrible idea, for now. No, all I do is pick up the weight, step back, and hold. The focus is on position and my breathing…and maybe not shitting my pants. With an extra 150 pounds on the barbell, this would probably start to happen in just about ten seconds. So, just before the inevitable sets in, I return the bar to the rack and add a bit more weight.

So what’s the point? Simple. If I can show myself that holding extra weight is no big deal, then squatting just a few more pounds above my top work set is surely possible, if not expected by now. That has turned out to be true. While I still have quite a long way to go, I’ve managed to add 50 pounds to this lift in just a few weeks. I need more time to adapt and grow, but my brain is now out of the way. All it needed to know was that there was nothing to be alarmed about, and that this adaptation and expense to the body was worth it.

It’s ok if you’re not always at your best, or if you sometimes do not try to be, really. Pick your battles carefully. But I would encourage you to find your goat. That thing that you really want to improve – that you should improve! Start with two key steps.

First, make it important to you. Elevate the issue, creating a set time to work on it during your daily regimen. And yes, work on it daily.

Second, find a quick and dirty hack that sets this task into perspective. Show yourself that it is possible, and should even be expected.

Let me tell you, expectation is an incredible thing.

The cycle

Chris Moore

Posted on May 10th, 2013

I’ve adjusted my definition of training.

Typically the word triggers thoughts of barbells, diets, pills, powders and 1980‘s Rocky workout montages. That’s all great, but I would like to expand the scope and simplify the idea a bit.

For me, training is simply deliberate practice. It carries a specific intent. It places us on an upward trajectory of progress. And most importantly, it applies to body and mind. One cannot be developed without the other (even though many try).

The more I think of training in these terms the more it seems to fold naturally into four specific phases. They go a little something like this.

The cycle

Your first objective in training is to simply give your body a chance to change and acclimate. That’s all. The flesh must get used to the demands you’re imposing upon it. These new positions and motions. The pain and exertion.

You’re learning.

It’s not always easy to accept, but this is going to take a little time and patience. Oh, and you’re going to need to work very, very hard. Remember, nothing worth having comes easily. I might also add that this stage also comes with some doubt and frustration. Because you are learning, it is impossible to not notice the learned folks all around you – those who have what you are after. Things get tough when progress comes drip by drip, but is will come if you give yourself the chance.

This phase gives way to rhythm, which is probably the most exciting time. Doubt yields to mounting experience and skill. Attention slips a bit from the ultimate goal, towards the daily ritual. The time carved out for training is now sanctuary. Pain is now an addicting sensation. And critically, precious training time accumulates across weeks, months, and years. You are getting good now.

Once you are able to loose yourself in this way something amazing happens. You realize that you have exceed all of the goals of your beginner self. You are now on another level, staring even higher up. This is ascension, and it’s probably the most empowering experience you can have.

Once you know that dreams are not outside of your reach it tends to change you. Trust me on that one.

The final phase is omniscience. Now, that sounds really fancy and all, but it just means that you know a lot. You’ve accumulated wisdom and quite a few lessons. It’s now your turn to share the knowledge with someone who’s just beginning their journey. You are now the learned.

It’s not hard. If rhythm is the most exciting thing, then this final stage is easily the most rewarding. Nothing could be more fulfilling.

What do you do at the end? Where do you go next? Well, you can certainly keep teaching indefinitely. But I want to make a recommendation, one that I hope you take. Start again, this time with a new skill. Become a beginner all over again and obtain a whole new set of experiences.

There’s just too much to learn out there. You cannot afford to stand still.

Addict

Chris Moore

Posted on May 9th, 2013

Addiction is a very common instrument in drama. That’s because it’s effective. To see it across your TV screen is to have a real, visceral experience. I was reminded of that tonight.

I’ve been watching House of Cards on Netflix lately. I must say, it has restored my interest in television. I cannot recall a show that was written or acted any better.

My favorite character is Peter Russo, the addicted, inherently flawed Congressman from Pennsylvania. One scene in particular is fascinating. Peter is being interrogated by one of the specialists on the campaign staff. This guy’s job was to “scrape all the shit off the shoe.” Meaning, he needed to drag out every dirty secret from this Governor candidate’s past.

Peter responded that, yes, there had been plenty of booze, some weed, a bit of coke, maybe a few hookers here and there. But only high dollar, of course!

“Anything else?” the specialist asked.

Peter responds, stating that there was that trip he took to Thailand after the divorce. Something about ten to fifteen girls, a small fortune in heroin, cocaine, speed, and just about every other drug you can think of. Shit, toss in a slippery Thai hotel mattress and you’re in for a hell of a time!

“Powder or needle?” he asks.

“Both.”

Damn. Pay attention kids. Cut Politicians some fucking slack, alright? It’s a stressful job. Sometimes you just need to blow off some steam, or is it suck up some blow? Whatever.

My beef is that addiction is always played as an obvious, poisoned state that destroys the lives of everyone it touches. Sure, that can happen, but the truth is that addiction is not always so obvious. And I might add, it’s a lot more common than you think. In fact, we are all addicts at one time or another.

I just read an interesting take on this in Steven Pressfield’s impressive little book Turning Pro. He lays out a theory. There are essentially two types of people, Amateurs and Professionals. As you might expect, the Professional is someone who has their shit worked out. They are pursuing a passion and getting paid to do so. They represent the ultimate goal, or dream. The Amateur, on the other hand, is lost in the wild. Mistakes and failure come often to them. No path is obvious. There’s a lot of searching and frustration.

Another key characteristic of the amateur is that they are, in fact, an addict. It need not be to drugs, hookers or what have you. Rather, the addiction can be to anything that draws your attention away from pursuing your true profession. Anything that pacifies, encourages inaction, or brings resistance to the party is the stuff of real dependence. It could be something unnecessary, like my penchant for scooping out half the jar of almond butter with a full bar of 88% dark chocolate. Victimless crime, sure, but it’s just a five minute distraction.

Take a look at your habits and ask yourself if you harbor something that’s only working to anchor you down. Carve it out and put it in a cage.

Complimenting Steven’s concept of addiction, I would submit that any habit, behavior or imbibed substance that serves to inspire and encourage forward motion is inherently good. That motion is a characteristic embedded within anything worthwhile, whether it be a training program, learning a craft, whatever. You must be in motion.

Get up every morning ready to enforce the regimen. Sit down and put in the work. You must practice what’s important to you, and you strive for progress. Keep anything that helps.

Oh, and toss out your bullshit.

Strongwoman

Chris Moore

Posted on May 8th, 2013

This week on Barbell Shrugged, we chat with Talia “JuggerNugget” VanDoran – Strongwoman, tattoo enthusiast, business owner and enthusiast of all things bad-ass. She’s our new friend!!!

Enjoy!

So obvious

Chris Moore

Posted on May 8th, 2013

Sometimes the obvious things escape our attention.

Years ago a friend stopped by the gym to train with me. I cannot remember exactly what we did that day, but it was likely some bench pressing and a long list of its derivates. This sort of workout is for two kinds of people; powerlifters who compete in this particular exercise (as I was at the time), and burgeoning meatheads who aspire for little more than being the biggest guy in the room (a fair description of this friend of mine). On second thought the two might be one in the same.

I recall having a good time that day, so I extended another invitation. “Hey man, that was fun. You should come back over tomorrow. We can do some squatting.”

“Oh, no thanks.” My friend replied, somewhat dismissively.

“What, you don’t squat?…Something injured?”

“Well, sometimes I do.” He answered. “But during the semester I spend all morning walking around campus. So, I figure that’s all the leg work I need.” Indeed.

There was a delay in my response as I tamped down the overwhelming urge to laugh at him. The statement is just as vapid now. It never dawned on this guy that hundreds of muscularly deficient students surrounded him at all times, all ambulating about on serviceable but unimpressive legs for several hours a day. As with most answers, this one was hiding right out in plane sight. Walking is walking and training is training. This seems obvious enough, but no.

Before we get ahead of ourselves with the scoffing, let’s be mindful of a simple fact. My friend was unaware. A relative lack of knowledge, coupled with a bias towards not really wanting to do anything terribly hard in the gym was more than enough to skew his behavior in the wrong direction. If that’s the charge then we are all guilty. We are all equally unaware, especially when it comes to training the most precious thing we have.

Let’s make some assumptions, ok? You train hard, never missing a workout and never ignoring your recovery. You pay close attention to your diet, sticking to a strict paleolithic style regime most of the time to great effect. But here’s the problem. While your physical body is transforming day by day, your mind is about as fit as the fat kid in gym class who would just about rather die than attempt that rope climb in front of his classmates.

That fatty mass between your ears is scattered, cluttered, unfocused, easily distracted, and often flustered. Defenseless, it allows text messages, status updates, work deadlines and all manner of life stressors to slam right into your neocortex completely unchecked and unfiltered. How much of your life is slipping by under that fog? How long has it been since you considered your goals?

No one can be fulfilled, happy and successful under such conditions, much less function optimally. We of course want all of those things. So it seems that this shit requires our full attention!

Here’s the challenge. Develop your mental strength as you would any other skill. Take some time daily to sit quietly, keeping the outside world at bay for at least fifteen minutes to start. Practice. Pay close attention when unwelcome thoughts start sneaking in the back door. Acknowledge them one by one and reject them, returning your focus to the rhythm of your breath. Treat this as a prescribed regimen with progressive intent, as tough as any other training session.

Be prepared to work towards a meaningful result.

The fitter our mind becomes, the more effectively we can recognize the flood of emotion and impulse before it overtakes us, warping our reactions, interpretations and decisions. That’s a very good thing. But what’s more, the better our daily focus the more effectively we can sit and consider our goals and methods. No aimlessness. No distraction. Just positive steps. That goes along way.

Call it meditation, hokum, or silly eastern bullshit if you want, but this activity is really no different in aim than any other training. It’s really hard at first, but gets easier with time. As your “fitness” improves day by day you’ll react slower to those rogue stressors and stimuli. You’ll regain control. You’ll improve. You might even find some time to think about something outside of the gym, like where you’d like to go and what’d you’d like to do in this life.

Yeah, that seems like something worth training for.