I scream. Lights dance in my eyes with each step, and in this moment of primal agony I am propelled by just one thought: onward. My pounding legs nearly falter as another frenzied wave of fire courses through my legs – and then it’s all over. The tire sled skids to a stop. Clenched hands release as the metal links clatter dully on the concrete, my body following suit just moments later.
“12-6,” I hear the stopwatch reading from somewhere in the distance. “That’s your best so far!” A playful grin flits across my features and, making a valiant attempt to rise, my knees buckle and I’m once again face-to-face with the ground. Rolling over to peel the gloves from my skin I notice one of them is damp with blood, exposing a glistening gash where the chains I’d been grasping had eaten through the fabric. Get up, I tell myself harshly, Get up! Struggling to my feet, I remind myself at least it’s not your pitching hand, and with that reassuring thought I grasp the chains once more, gritting my teeth for the fourth and final set of sled drags.
People sometimes ask me why I put myself through this kind of “torture.” Do you want the truth? – Fear. There it is: I’m afraid, afraid of mediocrity. Some would call me naïve or unrealistic to think that my efforts are worthwhile – and in a sense they might be right. My efforts may ultimately amount to nothing concrete or tangible. I hear this sentiment from my critics and I am disgusted, not because it lacks validity, but because I shudder at the alternative: living with the sickening feeling that I knowingly accepted mediocrity in something I loved.
It’s freshman year again, and I’ve been given the first start of my varsity baseball career. Aside from a few butterflies, I’m confident in my ability. Striding up to the mound I bend over and pluck the ball up with my left hand, trying to tune out everything around me. Eight warm-up throws later I’m in the zone, the natural motion I’d practiced from childhood taking control. I use every weapon in my arsenal – I continually pound the strike zone, but something unusual and terrifying happens to me that has never happened before – my efforts are futile, as each successive batter hammers the ball back at me again and again. I’m doing everything right, and yet, I’ve never tasted failure like this before. The sense of inadequateness sickens me, and I vow to come back the following year a changed player.
From that moment, high school has been about testing my boundaries and pushing the limits of what others arbitrarily define as “possible.” Indeed, though I returned the following season to an All-Conference performance, I was still unsatisfied, still afraid that at some point, at some level in the game I may return to the feeling of mediocrity that I felt my freshman year. This pursuit has inevitably carried over to other areas of my life. Academically, I am unwilling to settle for anything less than what I know I am capable of. Now, rather than apply myself in class for my parents and teachers, I do so for myself. I’ve harnessed the fear that my freshman baseball season spawned; I’ve struggled to overcome it, and, in the process, I’ve learned to ignore boundaries, scoff at predetermined limitations and push myself beyond what I’d ever thought possible.

Now that you’ve finished reading my college application essay, post your comments below. Why do you train?

I can run 6 minute miles forever on a treadmill, but I can’t even come close to that on a track; it’s just so much easier to run on a treadmill, for some reason.

Your mile time aside, everyone knows that running on a treadmill is easier; but why is this? It boils down to a few factors, with the main factor as my main source of hatred for the wretched machines:

1. The treadmill paces you. You can’t slow down on a treadmill unless you adjust it’s speed. Thus, it decreases your natural inclination to slow when you tire.
2. There is no wind resistance. Air, innocuous as it may be, creates drag on your body as you run through it; This makes you run slower.
3. The toll on your muscles is altered by the sweeping motion of the treadmill belt. Because it propels your striking leg backward, instead of you propelling your body forward, your glutes, hamstrings, and posterior chain in general don’t have to work very hard.
4. You get to look at fitness hotties at they walk by (OK, that one is sort of made up, but it might motivate you to keep running hard)

Why Run?

It’s great for your heart, legs, body composition, and postural muscles. It becomes hard just to keep your body upright after logging a bunch of miles or sprints. Running is great, as long as it’s tailored to your goals.

What are Your Goals?

Chances are, you run to lose or maintain weight, increase athletic prowess, strengthen one’s heart, and tone up the leg muscles. Fair enough.

But, if you’re going to run to get better legs, you want to get your money’s worth. This is where the treadmill really sucks – because the treadmill does the work for your posterior chain (referring to the posterior muscles of the low back down to the hamstrings), you don’t tire as easily, and you don’t get much of a workout for your butt and hamstrings. Most, if not every woman, wants a more toned butt. If you’re running on the treadmill, guess what? You’re not going to get it.

This sprinter's leg drives backward into extension...

The posterior chain,(remember – butt, low back and hamstrings) assisted by the quads, is what works to propel your body forward while running. Sprinters have incredibly strong posterior chains, and some of the best functioning and looking legs on the planet. They put their feet to the pavement, not the treadmill.

See how the back leg is straight? That's where most of the work in running is done - driving that leg back and the body forward.

As you look at the above photo of Roger Bannister, the first man to break the 4:00 barrier, you can see two things at work: his left leg is extending by action of his strong posterior chain, thus propelling him forward, while the hip flexors in his swing (right) leg are bringing his knee up and into position to take the next stride. If you run on a treadmill, you basically forgo the leg drive that you would get on the earth, and turn running into a repetitive hip-flexor exercise. Hip flexors aren’t that sexy, and aren’t that important in making you a faster running or better athlete. Make your training mirror your goals – if you want better legs and improved athleticism, running on a treadmill is a waste of time.

You would run faster and longer on the moon, too

To summarize, the reason treadmills suck is that they take the load off of your posterior chain, thus making running easier and less beneficial for your body. Plus, if you do all of your training on a treadmill, then try to run a road race, you will be weak in all the most important places. It’s better to maximize your running time by simply doing it on the ground, without the assistance provided by the machine.

Everything in life is a trade off – if you want to make running easier, then you’re going to get less out of it as well. But if you’re dedicated to improving your body or athleticism, you need to start putting your feet down and push some real earth with each stride.

The average person sits in a chair with a resting heart rate of somewhere between 60-70 beats per minute (bpm). The standing heart rate increases slightly from this number, and the heart rate decreases when laying down. Why? The more muscles that have to work to maintain posture, move you around, etc. require the heart to pump more blood.

How do you feel when you’re resting? Do you feel truly relaxed, or do you feel somewhat tense, anxious, or jittery. Chances are, you’re not as relaxed as you think you are.

Invest in a Heart Rate Monitor, if you haven't already

The result of my recent focus on increased conditioning has dropped my heart rate significantly. Now, my Dad is a world class runner and from him I inherited good genetics, but nonetheless, my increased workload has yielded me a very noticeable benefit just sitting around my house. What is this benefit? I can barely tell I’m alive at times.

Let me explain. My heart rate laying down ranges from 47-49. Sitting from 51-55. Standing from 54-60 (standing is highly variable, as virtually any movement makes your heart rate rise). When I reach these levels, as I do when I get into shape, everything in my body feels calm, relaxed, and barely moving. I barely breathe, my heart barely beats, and everything in my body just feels relaxed in a way that almost seems unnatural. It feels great, like the way you feel when you just get out of a cold pool. But why does this wonderful side effect occur?

When your heart gets stronger via an increase in conditioning (this DOES NOT have to mean sustained cardio, which I DO NOT recommend), stroke volume increases, meaning your heart pumps more blood with each beat. This means that while running, lifting, sleeping, or cooking eggs, your heart doesn’t have to work as hard to do the same job. This means you don’t get that out of breath feeling, muscle tension, or a need to take deep breaths (your lungs also become more efficient at extraction oxygen from each breath).

Would anyone covet your heart?

So, you stand around and your body gets everything it needs from tiny, shallow, intermittent breaths (just like you practice at the end of yoga classes when you get 5 minutes to relax) with a heart that barely beats, and shoulders that sit comfortably back. It’s really a nice feeling to not have that muscle tension that accompanies a heart that is working overtime just to maintain life.

Get out and work hard and see how you feel. If you’re just starting out, then 2-3 days per week will make a big dent in lower that heart rate. If you’re already in good shape, then you will need to either up your intensity, volume, or both to keep moving toward your best heart rate. And don’t forget! High intensity interval training is the BEST way to shed fat and increase cardiovascular capacity – not sustained cardio done on those (worthless) elliptical machines, treadmills and the like. If you need a refresher on my views of machines, check back later on this week for my rant on why treadmill running is a waste of time, especially if you want a better butt.

The most important strategy for me is to get cocky. I’m normally a pretty laid back guy, but when it comes to baseball, and especially pitching, I become arrogant, and an a-hole, kind of like these guys:

Seriously though, I get it, not all pitchers have the same style. A finesse pitcher like Maddux is not going to be trying to blow his fastball by hitters the same way a power pitcher like Zumaya would. But they both have confidence in their stuff, and approach each batter with the mindset that they will get him out.

But all I need to do is execute my pitches. True, you need to execute your pitches, but this is much more difficult when you aren’t convinced that by executing this pitch you are going to be successful. Doubts about the batter, the other team’s jeering dugout and the umpire need to be eliminated. You can’t control what the batter does with the pitch, or what the umpire’s call is, or what the other team is yelling at you.  You have to believe that you are going to succeed if you control everything that is within your control. If you don’t trust your stuff, you are going to have a hell of a time getting batters out. You will hesitate to throw that 3-2 offspeed, or be afraid to come high and inside with a fastball – or whatever else the game situation dictates.

For example, even if I’m facing the top hitter in the league, I genuinely convince myself that he doesn’t stand a chance of touching me. I have to trust in my abilities, my pitches and my preparation in order to succeed.

This guy is a poser. He’s competing on the same field as me pretending to want this at bat, this game, this season as much as I do. Screw that, what the hell was he doing last offseason to prepare for this moment? I bet you he didn’t spend his Thanksgiving or Christmas days training at the school playground with a weight vest and a medicine ball because the weight room was closed. And here he is in the batter’s box pretending to want it as much as I do? He might as well sit back down right now.

nothing wrong with a little death stare...just the pinstripes

I take each batter personally. I want to them to dread walking to the plate to face me. And when a hitter does inevitably get a hit off of me, I tell myself that it’s not because he’s better than me, or that my abilities fell short, but rather, that I had a momentary lapse in concentration and I’ll get him the next time.

Remember, you don’t have to throw perfect games to tell yourself that you’re going to throw a perfect game. Indeed, I am disappointed in myself if I walk just one batter or let up one hit. Of course these things are going to happen, but by setting the bar high, having confidence in my preparation and abilities, and treating each batter as a mini battle to be won, I have seen huge success – and you will too.

Yet, if you’re trying to get in shape, and really want to tackle some tough workouts, here are some tips to keep you with it ’til the end. *PLUS!! As a bonus, read to the end to learn a new word for softness that I just invented!*

A Soft and Delicious Destructor. You're just soft.

1. Go Somewhere

Guess what? That collection of gym equipment in your basement is now a collection of cobwebs and abandoned dreams for a reason: your domicile is too distracting to get real work done. Get a gym membership or go to the local park just because it will specifically dedicate your time to working out – and not answering the phone, playing with the dog, or appeasing the spouse.

2. Go Somewhere

Ever do an interval running workout? It’s hard. So hard that you’ll want to quit about 20% of the way through. How do you prevent this? Get away from your starting (and quitting) point.

When I want to get the most out of my interval running, or locomotive workouts in general, I make them either on a huge, workout-encompassing loop or two separate starting and finishing points. That way, every step you run away is one step you’ll have to run back. If every time you finish an interval you’re right back at your car, it’ll be way too easy to just call it a day. Run away from pansydom!

3. Bring an Equal

Bring someone who is at your level, is equally motivated, and will push you both toward your goals. Accountability to another person is huge, and I always look for a partner when I really want to do something outside the box and difficult. If neither of you wants to be the quitter, then you’ll both avoid sissification and get it all done.

4. Bring a Newbie

This might even be better than having a hardcore equal as a partner. If you can find a newbie who wants to get started on what you have been already doing, then you have a lot to live up to. A motivated (though these can sometimes be difficult to find) newbie will want to work hard both for their own goals and to impress you, oh seasoned vet, which will require you to step up your game. When showing someone the ropes, you are undoubtedly going to want to look impressive and avoid losing face, which will keep you moving at top speed and perfect form, and DEFINITELY not quitting before they do or before you’ve done what you said you would.

5. Change Surroundings

I walked in the newly renovated weight room of my alma mater and left wanting to go back and pump serious iron there. Why? It was new, shiny and fancy. Sure, the equipment I had been using was good, but the change of venue put a little pep in my step.

6. Get Hopped Up

Could be emotion. Could be supplements. Could be caffeine. There are lots of things that can get you feeling amped that won’t put you behind bars, but will get your ass up that hill or under the squat rack rack one more time.  I’m not a big supplement guy or energy drink or drugs guy, but every now and again a big ‘ol dose of caffeine will get me in gear with some extra fight. Just make sure you don’t take so much that you can’t get down from that gear.

7. Chop Your Goals

Reality is, you can take one more step, do one more rep, or keep going for another second. You might not think you can, but you can. Piece together all those individual reps, sets and seconds and you’ll eventually put together a mosaic you can call a decent workout.

So if you’re solo with no one to push you, push yourself by calling yourself out in small increments. Ultimately those 5 more miles you have to run are run one step at a time, so chop it up and tell yourself that. You can do one more of anything.

8. Distract Thyself

Be one of those retards rocking out to music while working out, if it will help you work out. Sometimes tricking ourselves or just having a distraction is the best way to divert attention from the pain we are enduring. Tool (watch singer Maynard choke out an unruly fan in the above video) and Rage Against the Machine are pretty awesome tools for amplifying aggression and suppressing all those feelings of uncookedbiscuitism (yes, that’s the word that you’ve been waiting for!).

We’re all a little Pillsbury on the inside…

but take some preventive measures to ward it off, and get the most from your time in search of improved athletic prowess, health or whole-body hardness. Don’t be soft, and don’t quit.

I was scratching my head at this point. That’s a BAD thing? You see, every high level thrower (yes, this includes outfielders and anyone else who throws at least mid 90s) that I have ever seen, not to mention nearly all amateur players as well (to varying degrees) exhibit this mechanical trait. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me first present you with the definition of “reverse forearm bounce” that the website provided, and explain why it was called a “flaw.”

Logan Verrett

Reportedly coined by Mike Marshall, this “bounce” refers to “the downward motion of the pitching forearm caused by the inertial mass of the ball, pitching hand, and pitching forearm.”

That is, the “forearm layback” that every high level thrower exhibits. I’m not really sure how many examples I need to supply our readers with to prove this point, so I’ll just include some synchronized clips of a diverse assortment of both active and retired high level throwers (some have been flipped to appear as lefties). These throwers range in peak velocity from mid 90s to in excess of 100 mph.

**Note that I did not use photos as evidence for my claim. Although photos are far better than nothing, and in this specific case may have sufficed, when it comes to illustrating a point that has to do with mechanics, photos can be taken way out of context. For example, a player reaches landing position with their hips open, shoulders closed, throwing arm vertical – the classic “high cocked” position…but how did they get to that position? Unless you have a very trained eye, it can be hard to tell much from just a photo of a player at landing position unless you know how to look for subtle cues that give away how they got there (elbows pinched back, back foot turned over, etc.) So to better make a point when it comes to mechanics, do yourself a favor and learn to use clips to illustrate this kind of thing (maybe this will be the topic of a future post if there is sufficient interest).**
So what reasons did the website give as to why “Reverse forearm bounce” was a flaw? And, additionally, is this something that can (or should) be fixed, or is it just an inherent, albeit stressful, part of throwing hard?

This particular website cites various studies showing that the more extreme the “bounce” and the closer the throwing elbow is flexed to 90, the greater the stress will be on the UCL. Is this true? Yes, I have no reason to doubt the studies – in fact, I would have been surprised if this was not what the studies had concluded. My point though, is that high level throwing is inherently stressful on shoulder and elbow – this is apparent from looking at ANY 95 mph thrower, noting the elbow flexed to 90 degrees during acceleration, and the ridiculous amount of external rotation (near 180 degrees) at the glenohumeral joint. To go a step further, I’m asserting that the very mechanical traits that allow a player to hit such high velocities are the same traits that place the most stress on the throwing arm. That is, the “bounce” is necessary because it

1.    increases the range of motion over which force is applied to the baseball.

If we’re trying to maximize velocity (v= distance traveled/time) then one way to do it is increasing distance traveled over which force is applied to the ball while holding time constant. Thus, a player with a full 180 degrees of external rotation is going to throw harder than a player with 160 degrees of ER if all other variables are held constant.

2.    increases the reflexive action and thus strengthens the following concentric contraction of the internal rotators of the shoulder due to the Stretch Shortening Cycle.

The SSC basically says that when you eccentrically lengthen a muscle under tension (in this case all the internal rotators) it will store elastic energy (like a rubber band) which can then be used to strengthen the following concentric contraction. The quicker and more powerful the “Stretch” the more powerful the resulting contraction has the potential to be (provided all of it can be harnessed).

What though, is the significance of this conclusion? What should you do with this knowledge? Should you stunt your potential as a pitcher by focusing solely on reducing the stress to your UCL? (see marshall video) That depends on your goal. If you’re attempting to reach the highest levels of the game, it’s pretty much a given that you need a good fastball. Like it or not, scouts don’t care about 85 mph fastballs unless you’re absolutely flawless in every other aspect of your performance. Even Greg Maddux had a low 90s heater out of high school…without it he may not have ever been given a shot at professional ball. If, however, you just want to have fun, allegedly improve your chances of staying healthy and in all likelihood not make it past high school ball then by all means, reduce your “reverse forearm bounce,” stop trying to throw hard and follow the advice of this scouting report and of Dr. Marshall (see video). Otherwise, keep throwing the crap out of the ball, making sure to manage as best as possible the inherent risk that accompanies these throws. Guys like Eric Cressey have figured this part out pretty damn well.

Dr. Marshall showing how to allegedly reduce UCL wear and tear while simultaneously stunting velocity:

Marshall

I don’t even know where to start on this video, so I’ll leave it to you to decide what to make of it for now. I look forward to hearing your comments and opinions!

This torture is brought to you by my friend Andrew Sacks, who is a one of very few trainers to whom I would entrust my body. Don’t ask him for a “leg workout that will make me vomit”- if you do, you’ll end up doing what I did on Monday night:

1. Speed Squat – 30-40% 1rm – 20 Reps

2. Split Squat Jumps – Bodyweight – 20 Reps

3. Squat Jumps – Bodyweight – 20 Reps

4. Isometric Lunge – w/45lb plate held over head – goal of 45 seconds each leg

Andrew Sacks demonstrating the Iso Lunge (height added to increase peril)

Perform each exercise as fast as possible, with no rest in between. Repeat for 3 total cycles. Rest between cycles until heart rate drops below 130bpm, or breathing becomes easy (usually 2-4 minutes).

This was possibly the most painful, difficult workout I have ever performed. Allow 4-5 business days for normal walking and sitting mechanics to return.

The dip at the end of the graph is April, which is so far 1/3 gone, and the pace is currently for another 25% growth, on top of the biggest month ever!

Word of mouth, very high Google Pagerank on a lot of keywords and social networking have done a lot in helping me branch out further. I appreciate the positive feedback and support that I have gotten from all of you, which is the reason I continue. I enjoy writing, but without a purpose I would just be spitballing.

And, I will be embarking on my first professional season of baseball in about 3 weeks. I’m not sure what direction the blog will take once I become a full-time athlete, but it WILL continue. I’m sure I will learn tons of information from those who have been there, and I’ll be sure to pass it along. I’m journeying out to Illinois with a contract but no duration guarantees whatsoever, and so I’ll be fighting every day to keep my brand new job.

So, I hope you will stick with me as I attempt to stay insightful and fresh while out on the road, putting all of the training to use. After all, if it’s not for something bigger, it’s not “training,” it’s just doing.

Oh, and if you haven’t before, consider subscribing to the “feed” of my blog by clicking on the orange “chicklet” at the bottom-left corner of the page. If you’re not familiar with feeds, read about them here.

My feed "chicklet"

I was recently running with a friend who quit before I did. I also had a solo workout in which I quit before I completed my intended volume. And last week a client of mine told me that he couldn’t do any more [reps]. All of these situations raised in me the question…

What If you HAD to do more?

What if you were forced, FORCED, to keep going? Could you?

I remember the most mentally destitute I have ever been during a workout – this wasn’t my hardest workout physically, but mentally it still sticks out in my mind.

Every year at UMBC we had winter sprint workouts twice a week with Coach Cantor that consisted of agilities, sprints, GPPs and the like. The workouts started out hard and got progressively harder as the weeks went on, peaking in difficulty right before Thanksgiving break.

The most difficult workouts were ladders and “22 22s.” In the latter we ran in 2 or 3 groups, performing 4 baseline touches on the basketball court in 22 seconds. The other group went when 22 seconds elapsed, giving each group 22 seconds of rest (or 44 seconds if we were lucky enough to go in 3 groups). Ladders were baseline sprints that ascended in number, from 1 to 17, with a proportionate rest period, then back down on the even numbers until we ended on a single. A full ladder session would end up with a total volume of 154 baseline-t0-baseline touches.

So in 2008 we ran ladders to 17, and I gave each interval the best I had. I didn’t loaf, and I really went after it. Your prize for working hard is that you get a diminishing number of sprints after the ladder reaches its apex, and the countdown helps you push through til the end.

As we approached the single sprint, having completed 153 sprints, my mind was excited to check out and relax. My legs were exhausted, but their work was done for the day.  Then, after completing sprint 154, we were told that we had another interval to go: 36 touches with a goal time of, I think, 5 minutes. We were all horrified.

This was the exact situation I was thinking about this week – when you’ve given it everything you have, and you’re ready to and feel like you absolutely NEED to quit, could you keep going?

I felt mentally and physically crushed at that point, but I, like the rest of the team, sucked it up and kept going. We did 36 more touches at a time when not one of us would have thought we could have done even a handful more.

Even then, what if it was 36 more after that? And 36 more after that? When do you draw the line and prove to yourself, by walking away, that you really can’t? Ordinary people meet these challenges in Boot Camp, extraordinary people in SEAL and Special Forces training, IronMan triathlons and those crazy adventure races (no, not the Amazing Race).

Here is a great excerpt illustrating my point from “Beyond KettleBells, an Interview with Mike Mahler…”

When Richard [Machowicz, author of Unleashing the Warrior Within] went through Navy Seal training, he saw a lot of physically impressive people give up because they weren’t mentally tough, an example being when his group was ordered to run several miles. Just when everyone thought it was over, the instructor ordered several more miles. Half the class collapsed on the spot.

Were they defeated physically at that point? No, they probably could’ve kept going if they were mentally prepared for it. They were defeated mentally. Richard pushed through not just with great physical conditioning but by giving himself the right messages via self-talk. No matter what was happening to him, he knew that he was going to pass. He burned his bridges with failure and there was nowhere left to go but the other way, to success.

So I thought about this as I chickened out in my running today – I felt like tired garbage while running 4x400m and 4x200m. What If I had to run a ridiculous, outlandish number more, say 50, with my baseball career on the line? If I quit, I would be voluntarily ending my career. Could I meet that challenge? I don’t know, but it’s an interesting question. My Dad, who was and still is a World-Class runner, said his hardest workout was 80 100 meter runs at a 12-13 second pace with 30 seconds rest in between. 80! That’s a volume only fit for an elite runner, but what if you had to rise to that occasion just to prove to someone that you could, or because you would lose something if you didn’t? Your body wouldn’t collapse – that takes hours and hours to happen. Your mind would be the only thing holding you back.

This video is from an IronMan triathlon, and these two women (I think they’re women) completely bonk at the end. It’s not funny at all, but pretty amazing that they actually were able to push themselves to their physiological limits. “Bonking” happens when you have no muscle glycogen left for your body to use as energy, and so you literally run out of gas exactly as a car would. If Phidippides actually died upon running the first “marathon” and yelling “Nike!,” then this bonking phenomenon was probably what did him in.

I also read a great story by a former Navy Special Forces soldier, who described how he pushed himself to the brink of death and learned to run and vomit simultaneously during training. I want that life experience. You can find his account on pages 4-5 of this collaborative  article. It’s worth the read, and it will make you feel like (even more of) a pansy.

I’m not one of those motivational people, but this stuff makes me feel inadequate, and inadequacy motivates me. What motivates you?

It’s a little more complex than the first two articles, but give it a read and let me know what you think!