I don’t do a lot of videos, partly because I don’t have an omnipresent assistant and partly because I prefer to lay things out in writing. But, my friend and strength coach Nick Tumminello and I made a little how-to before I left the city for my flatter, more opportunistic midwestern town.

So check this out, and hopefully you learn a few things about the sleeper stretch, hip mobility, thoracic mobility and a few things you might have been doing incorrectly.

Step 1: Figure Out What You Do Have

You need to use all of your pitches to figure out what’s working and what isn’t. This means looking at how the hitters react to your offerings, as well as your ability to throw strikes with them. Maybe your curve is only effective in the dirt; maybe your changeup only works away to lefties, and you can’t throw it for a called strike; maybe you can get your fastball in to a righty but not a lefty. Whatever it is, you need to figure it out so you can plan your attack. You should never throw everything you’ve got early on, but you should be able to have an idea once you get through the lineup.

I’ll use myself as an example. My last time out, I walked a career-high 5 batters, and issued an additional two free passes by hitting batters on a pair of 0-2 counts. Terrible, I know. My curveball was trash, and I was choking my changeup to death. All I was left with was a fastball that I could locate some of the time, mostly to my arm side.  Yet, that fastball was better than most of their hitters, so my plan was going to center around that pitch.

Sometimes your stuff just won't behave

Step 2: Make or Revise Your Plan

What can you do to get hitters out with the stuff you have? If you can’t throw a pitch for a strike, can you still use it as an out pitch when you’re way ahead? Is there a certain location that you can hit more reliably than others? What’s good about your stuff, that you can use to scratch out a quality start?

I realized early on that my curve wasn’t there, and as I was falling behind with my fastball, it was getting shelved. My change, which had been great for me last time out, was proving difficult to throw where I wanted. The one pitch I had that I knew I could get outs with? Well, it was the pitch that I used to get out of a jam in the first: a hard fastball on the inner third.

They just weren’t getting around on it, and thankfully, I didn’t have to get it onto the black (a tall order with crappy control) to get a good result. I could get ahead away, and then pound it in as hard as I could. It became my go-to pitch, and I induced jam-job grounders and flares for the rest of the game. I’m pretty sure they knew that I wasn’t going to throw a curve for a strike, and my changeup was a non-factor. But on my fastball, they were swinging, just without enough speed to get the head of the bat out.

So what was my plan? Throw it hard at their fists, and see what happens. Sure, I continued to miss, walking and hitting batters to create trouble for myself, but I made quality pitches when I had to. I got by, we got a win, and I learned a little more about pitching.

Step 3: Figure It Out

Step 3 actually takes place after you leave the game. In this step, you try to put your finger on why you sucked so hard, and then go back to work to make sure it doesn’t happen the next time out. Sometimes you can pitch your way out of the trouble you make for yourself, but if you’re routinely taking subpar stuff to the mound, then you might actually just be a subpar pitcher. It’s great to learn how to pitch without your best, but use your preparation time to make sure your best does indeed show up. If you can get a win without anything in the tank, then pitching will be easy when you put it all together.

But it doesn’t just stop there. Aside from being provided with multiple loaves of bread, plastic silverware and two orphanage-sized jars of Skippy and Smuckers to stave off the pregame hunger, players are typically provided with a big spread of concession-stand hotdogs, hamburgers, corndogs, soda, popcorn, or whatever the ballpark was selling that night. 10 pizzas from Papa Johns after the game?

Absolutely.

Sure, the pasta and other catered meals sometimes find their way into the clubhouse after games, but those meals appear with less frequency and certainty.

Plus, it’s the little things. There’s actual Gatorade in the cooler, a big tub of Dubble Bubble, and all the free bags of David sunflower seeds you can spit. And yes, I know Dubble Bubble tastes like soggy newspaper roughly 25 seconds after your first chew, but hell, just spit it out and grab another piece – it’s free, after all.

Dubble Bubble is to Gum as White Castle is to Restaurants

I just find it ironic that the high level athletes, besides playing a kids’ game, largely get fed kid food, and they love it. I’d be lying if I told you that my first peanut butter and jelly sandwich wasn’t awesome – it was. I eat super healthy when I can buy and cook my own food, so I never eat the stuff that I’ve been eating, mostly because if I don’t, I’ll go hungry. The travel schedule and energy demands of being on the road and at the ballpark all day are high, making packing all of one’s food pretty much a non-option. Sure, you can plan ahead and bring some healthy stuff with you, but overall, you eat what they give you. You can cringe at the options, or allow your smiling inner-child a summer in the sun.

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.

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.

A friend of mine had a client a while back who was just as big, and screamed WOO! just as loud during their sessions-except he did it between sets in the middle of a quiet room while having a conversation with himself.

Why, you might ask, did this client yell out loud? Good question. It appeared that he had motivational conversations with fictional people while he trained. If his trainer didn’t butt in here and there to try to interact with him, the only words exchanged during their hour-long sessions would between himself and himself.

And it wasn’t just the woo-ing. It was the curse words, shouted into the air at random. It was the salute to the rafters, given with a slight, rhythmic head nod.

I-Beams in the ceiling, we salute you!

And it was the cackling laugh, elicited by phantasmic comedians unknown. Ever seen a 5’10, 230 pound dude cackle into the air with no intended target? It’s unnerving, to say the least, especially when you know that it would take at least 3 strong guys and a taser to subdue said cackler, if said cackler were to snap and go on a rampage.

Though he was not all there, he was still really nice-when he came out of his trance.  He and his trainer parted ways, amicably I think, after a disagreement, however his legend still lives on. Was he higher than Buzz Lightyear during his training sessions, or was it schizophrenia, or was he just that amped up? Hard to know. But, if you ever find yourself in such a situation, step back and enjoy the show. Just make sure you have an exit handy and your lightest sprinting shoes on.

PCP is a hell of a drug.

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?

Now, don’t be too critical of us, because neither of our mechanics are picture-perfect. Andrew is working on getting his arm up sooner, as his arm reaches way behind and drags. I have numerous kinks that I am working on as well, so be kind to us both. Nonetheless, what is salient here is whether or not our mechanics change when we put on the weighted sleeves.

Everyone around me who has thrown with the Phantom sleeves so far has remarked that they don’t seem to affect their throwing motion. But, what does the high-speed videography say?

Now, I don’t have the multi-thousand dollar equipment that the video labs do, but my camera gets a decent job done at 420 frames per second. And, with some good natural light, I think the video shows us what we need to see.

The following videos are of both of us making a throw to a net at about 120 feet, after we had just come in from long tossing. These were close to max effort throws, but I would say not quite maximal. These first two are of Andrew, who is a good high school pitcher at Old Mill.

I didn’t edit these videos, so I apologize for the delay in a few of them. An extra second pause before the throw turns out to be a REALLY long pause because of the slow-motion. These last two are of me…

What Do You See?

Did you find a difference? I found one.

Look at the elbow in these two photos - there is a slight difference

It appears that there is about a 2-3 inch difference in elbow height at the same point in the delivery. Without the sleeve, you can see that my elbow almost eclipses my ear, whereas with it on, it is at about jaw-height.

Now, what does this mean? I’m not exactly sure. The elbow isn’t low at release, just lower. And, if you watch the path of the elbow, it fights to stay high and doesn’t get quite as high as without the sleeve. Other than that, I don’t see a whole of difference.

So, is this difference in elbow path significant? Again, I’m not sure. Now, with Andrew the difference is even more slight than with me. His elbow is only lower by about an inch, if that.

The elbow difference in Andrew Connors is slight

Now, Andrew has been throwing regularly with the sleeve. Has he adapted to it, explaining how he can get his elbow higher than I can? It’s plausible.

I don’t have access to the biomechanical-stress analyzing software that exists in expensive facilities around the country, so I can only give the play-by-play and hypothesize about what is going on.

So, here’s my summary of what these throws are telling us:

1. Overall mechanics are VERY SLIGHTLY affected.
2. The elbow has difficulty gaining its natural height when the weighted sleeve is worn. Yet, keeping one’s elbow up with the sleeve on might be coachable and height restored with conscious attention paid to it.
3. Continued use of the sleeve may result in an increase in elbow height, as the wearing gets stronger. If this is true, then throwers with low elbows might benefit from wearing these, as they would be forced even more to get their elbows up. Yet, this is just speculation and I have no data on this as of now.

Do You See Something I Don’t?

If you do, leave a comment and let’s hear it.

Let’s take running as an example. Baseball is an anaerobic sport-requiring many short bursts of intense physical movement. Knowledgeable trainers, for this reason, are shifting their baseball players’ training away from the traditional long distance runs to more sprint training. Pitchers, who since the beginning of time have run long distance for conditioning, are also switching to and benefitting from this change in methodology.

So, as a baseball player, we should all run only short sprints all the time, right? I’ve written about this before here and Andrew Sacks has here. This way, we would be maximizing our training by not wasting time on superfluous exercise. Not so fast…

Now, I hate to put this out there, but “In-shape” is completely subjective. Great shape to one person might be mediocre to a seasoned athlete. And, where coaches are constantly making judgments of a player’s worth, the player often must bend to the coach’s will to insure he is held in good standing.

So, imagine doing nothing but 30-60yd sprints for an entire offseason, and then showing up to spring training to face a timed 4-mile run. How will you do? How will the coaching staff look at you?

Chances are, you will do OK, and your body composition and strength will be high enough to allow you to handle the run. But, you won’t do nearly as well as you could, had you done a little distance running intermixed with your sprinting.

This situation will be faced by many athletes as they approach spring training. Do you prepare in only the way that is maximally effective, regardless of how it might make you look, or do you train with some compromise to appease a subjective coaching staff?

“Coach, I know I didn’t do well on the timed run, but I promise you, my anaerobic capacity is through the roof.”

Where is that excuse going to get you if you’re trying to make it through a round of cuts, when the other guys looked better than you physically because they trained in an inferior method? It’s a tough question to answer.

I would like some comments with your thoughts on this matter, but I will leave you with mine: Train to make it onto the field first, then train to perform as best you can once on it.

Like I said, it’s all about perception in the coach’s eyes whether or not you are worthy of representing their team on the field. It’s irrelevant what tests they administer to make this conclusion, the bottom line is that you have to live up to them. So, If you need to prove that you’re in shape by running long distance, then you need to include some distance running into your program along with the good stuff like sprints that you know you need to do to improve. Maybe it’s just one distance run per week-who knows-but your first priority should be to make it onto the field by being impressive in whatever task you are asked to perform.

And yes, I am a firm believer that sprints are what a pitcher needs, and distance is counterproductive. But, is one long distance or maybe two short distance runs per week going to decrease your performance? I’m not so sure.

“So when are you leaving?”
“Friday at 3 o’clock in the morning.”
“Oh. So you’re leaving tonight!?”
“Well, uh, I guess. Friday morning I fly out.”

I had this exact conversation with at least 4 people. I claimed that I was departing in the morning, and they were certain that I would be leaving later that night. So all morning I have been wondering,

When does night end and morning begin?

Now, we all know that 12am marks the start of a new day, but midnight, besides obviously describing to us its placement, is always thought of as an extension of the prior day’s evening. The morning doesn’t seemingly start at midnight, and yet we would all agree that it has arrived by 5am. So, where during this mysterious 5-hour window does night give way to morning?

This question seems to depend on two factors:

1. Amount of time until sunrise
2. One’s typical bedtime (this also highly correlates with age)

Any kid who has spent time with friends after his parents retreated to bed has heard this phrase at some
point:

“Damnit, (insert your name here)! It’s 1:30 in the morning! If you wake us up again you’re going to get it!”

Idle threats aside, the point is, 1:30 is often referred to as morning by those who, ravaged by age, go to sleep early.

Yet, consider the following:

“Dude, it’s two o’clock. There is no way you are going to be able to get a haircut this late at night. You’re an idiot to think that.”

The above conversation, uttered by hypothetical college students, is typical of those who regularly spend multiple hours awake past midnight.

Yet, I would pose that while many would argue both ways about the dark hours of 12-3am, 4am, I feel, would be consensually agreed upon to be a morning hour. Only 1 hour away from
daylight, 4 o’clock is an hour in which almost all of us, nightowls or not, are asleep, and our sleeping session is descending. Yet, I still am not convinced that being asleep is the salient difference in categorizing an hour; If 11pm was an hour in which nearly all of us slept, we still would not consider it morning.

One could argue that the “pm” versus “am” distinction makes the difference, but to that I would also disagree. 11:59am, I feel, would not be commonly held as morning, but, rather, afternoon. And, if am vs. pm was truly the issue, the we would need some other means by which to quantify the afternoon. Additionally, one would have a hard time defending the case that we have a full 12 hours of morning each day, especially when 12am is given the title of “mid night.”

So, what is it, then, that provides the distinction between morning and night? I propose that it should be based on whether one is “coming” or “going” at anytime past midnight but before daybreak.

Coming refers to those who are yet to retire past the midnight hour, after being awake all day. Going refers to those who sleep into and awaken past midnight. So, if you’re out at a club and go to sleep at 3:45, you should refer to it as “3:45 at night.” If you were asleep and awakened at 12:15am, for example, then you should refer to your awakening as “12:15 in the morning.”

This solution of mine might not please everyone, but for proper communication’s sake, it allows for a distinction that can be easily referred to and enforced.

And yes, this really is what I contemplated as I stumbled through the airport in a stupor, groggy from arising at 2:45 on this beautiful morning. Gotta love 5:40 flights and a little airport philosophizing!

Thoughts?