Athletic

The Problems With Getting Jacked, Strong, and Athletic

There’s a difference between being jacked, being strong, and being athletic. But in today’s world the terms are used interchangeably. This is a problem. When people think of an athlete, they think of a jacked and strong physique. But there’s a reason powerlifters train differently than bodybuilders and Olympic weightlifters. And there’s a reason why athletes need to train differently than them all.

I’m convinced that 99% of the people in the fitness world want to be jacked. When you see advertisements for getting “that athletic body,” it’s not referencing NFL linemen, sumo wrestlers, and heavyweights. Even athlete’s themselves want to be jacked. So we’re left with this dichotomy of athletic=jacked.

“He asked me to program him in some more time for biceps, what we call ‘TV training.’ ‘I got to look good on TV, too!’ he told me.”

-DeFranco talking about Brian Cushing

LEANGAINS

Martin Berkhan presides over Leangains.com. I love Martin and his no bull-shit attitude. He gets results with his clients that can’t be denied. It’s just too bad that my foreign man crushes are reserved for tricksters like Rasmus Ott.

Martin has a few basic principles. First, he believes in intermittent fasting. Second, he uses reverse pyramid training (RPT), which is sort of like max-effort drop sets. Third, he belives in spending less time in the gym. Fourth, he hates aerobic work. And fifth, he doesn’t like stretching.

This belief system works for Martin and his clients, and he gets a lot of attention. His client waiting list is long, and rightfully so. And because Martin is so good at what he does, everyone, even athletes, wants to follow the Leangains principles. This is a problem.

Don’t get me wrong. Berkahn is tops in his field and one of the best coaches for those wanting non-drug physique improvements. If that’s all anyone wanted, I’d refer them to Berkhan and Leangains immediately. He knows what he’s doing. And the advice he gives is excellent for that crowd. You don’t need aerobic work to get shredded. But this is where the wires cross between being jacked and being athletic. For most athletes being jacked is the byproduct, not the main focus.

“ATHLETES”

Because you don’t need aerobic work to lose fat, it gets dismissed on all fronts. But losing fat is apart of the jacked realm, not the athletic realm. I’m as lean and muscular as I’ve ever been, but if I play pick-up basketball or football I’m going to be huffing and puffing. I don’t have the aerobic capacity for it right now. And it is aerobic, meaning that tabata and HIIT aren’t viable “conditioning” options. I touch on that a bit in Can We Stop With the Prowler Suicides?

So here’s what a physique athlete can look like without aerobic work:

Berkhan’s results with his clients.

Ripped. Jacked. Strong. Successful. Everything most average trainees can want. They even have “that athletic look.” But below is what most team sport athletes will look like without aerobic work.

CONCLUSION

The aerobic conundrum is just one piece of the story. Maximal effort strength work is another one. Powerlifters can perform maximal effort work more frequently because the barbell is their sport. They don’t need nervous system reserves for anything else. But this doesn’t mean non-barbell athletes fall under the same umbrella.

The theme here is this: train for your sport, not someone else’s sport. There’s always this debate about whether it’s better for an athlete to train like a powerlifter or an Olympic weightlifter. The answer is neither. Every sport is it’s own entity. Footballers should train like footballers. Bodybuilders, bodybuilders. Etc. As soon as you cross wires and do something like train an athlete like a powerlifter, you’ve gone down the wrong path.

TL;DR

There’s a difference between being athletic, being strong, and being jacked. What makes you jacked doesn’t mean it will be good your athletic ambitions. Train for your sport, not someone else’s.

What Quadrant Athlete Are You?

Athletes don’t need to back squat. Athletes shouldn’t do HIIT. Athletes shouldn’t clean. Athletes shouldn’t do this. Athlete’s shouldn’t do that. I’ve said it all. And I’ve caught flak for it all too because exceptions always exist. Athletes from different sports have different needs. So when I say athlete’s don’t need to back squat, I have to preface with, “well, except powerlifters.” Shouldn’t clean? “Well, except for Olympic weightlifters and, in my opinion, powerlifters.” Shouldn’t do this? “Well, except for that…”

Throwing out general blankets of advice is difficult for me because of these contraindications. Over at Freak Strength there’s a mega-ulta-super-cool dude named David. He’s smarter than I can fathom. (But fathom someday, I will.) Everyone is in a tizz because he’s bashing Joe DeFranco’s WS4SB, citing that it’s “incomplete.”

Alternatives to WS4SB

The Truth, The Whole Truth, and Nothing But the Truth

Re: The Truth, The Whole Truth, and Nothing But the Truth

Continued: The Truth, The Whole Truth, and Nothing But the Truth

And I agree. It lacks energy system work, it over-emphasizes maximal strength, it over-utilizes the maximal effort method, and it has no regard for individuality. Such happens when you make one program for millions of people. Sure, it gets people jacked and strong (to a point). But, for most athletes, there’s more to success that being jacked and strong. And for some, those two things matter little.

USING THE QUADRANTS TO CLEAR CONFUSION

Dan John and Pavel, in Easy Strength, use four quadrants to categorize an athlete’s needs. So there’s no longer “athletes,” there’s “athletes of certain quadrants.” Which quadrant an athlete falls in depends on two things:

1. The number of qualities the athlete needs to master the sport
2. The relationship to the Absolute Maximum of each quality

So with that, we have this (starting at the top left and rotating clockwise):

QI: A bunch of qualities at a low level of maximum

QII: A bunch of qualities at a high level of maximum

QIII: A couple qualities at a decent level of maximum

QIV: Few (or one) qualities at maximum (or near max)

THE FIRST QUADRANT

Dan and Pavel describe the first quadrant as well structured physical education. Being a physical educator, America fails at accommodating this quadrant. But this is about letting children play, teaching them gymnastics and body awareness, having them play as many sports as possible, and soaking up as many motor and movement patterns as possible. Chances are this quadrant has long since passed you. Ever teach a twenty year old how to throw? It’s difficult. First quadrant failure.

THE SECOND QUADRANT

Most team and collision sports are second quadrant. Hockey players need a bit of muscle to protect themselves from hits, they need speed to get to loose pucks, they need aerobic capacity to sustain good effort through out the game, they need lactic capacity to sustain longer shifts, they need strength to battle on the boards, they need skills to play the game, and this list continues. A lot of qualities, most of which need to be well developed. Well. Not maximally. Think of QII as decathlon athletes. They need to be good at a lot of things, not excellent at one thing.

THE THIRD QUADRANT

Most off-season athletes and general trainees (like me) reside here. QIII can get confusing. It’s just trying to better yourself for whatever task you have in queue (if you even have one). This is where the old Robby Robinson saying applies: stimulate, don’t annihilate.

Any idiot can smoke an athlete. But can you make him win?

-Pavel

So, there is only one rule in QIII: Do what you say you need to do.

-Dan

THE FOURTH QUADRANT

Few athletes make it to the fourth quadrant. It’s a highly specialized, highly developed place. These are the 100m sprint athletes. The Olympic weightlifters. The high jumpers. The people that only do one or two thing, but they do them exceptionally well.

I mentioned that QII athletes were decathlon-ers. A decathlon athlete will never throw discus as far as the specific discus athletes. The specific athletes have an advantage: they only need to worry about one thing. If the decathlon athlete only worried about one event, they wouldn’t be much of a decathlon athlete. This is why Olympic weightlifting for QII athletes causes confusion. Sure, Olympic weightlifters are strong and powerful, but they have a narrow focus. A football player, a QII athlete, has more to worry about, more to do. They’ll never be as technically proficient, so they’ll never see the same benefits.

WHICH ONE ARE YOU?

Understanding what quadrant athlete you are is important. And since I like this classification system, I’m guiding my advice by filing my blog posts under specific quadrants. If you scroll to the bottom of this post, you’ll see “filed under…” followed by specific quadrants. For instance, Power Cleans Suck, Here’s Why is filed under QII and QIII because my teaching method was designed for athletes that would never specialize in Olympic weightlifting (QIV).

TL;DR

To better accomidate for each athlete’s needs, Dan John and Pavel in their book, Easy Strength, created a four quadrant system that revolves around two concepts: the number of qualities an athlete needs, and the level to which each quality needs developed.

What do you think about this system? What quadrant athlete are you? Confused? Bring it all to the comments section below.

Power Cleans Suck, Here’s Why

Power cleans: guaranteed to make a kid run faster and jump higher. Oh, no, wait, that’s PF Flyers, right? Jokes and my apparent hatred aside, I love the Olympic lifts. The grace, mobility, and strength displayed during a well performed snatch or clean is inspiring.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with them, and I have no qualms with anyone that does them. Qualms, I have, however, with people that: use them as the answer to everything, see them as the only way to train the lower body for power, think of them as a “must” for athletes, try to teach them in large group athletic settings, and can’t do them correctly (which, sadly, is most people as you will see).

FORM FOLLIES

I used to clean a lot. Looking back, my form sucked. If all you care about is hoisting as much weight from the ground to your shoulders, your form probably sucks too.

Buddy Morris once said that everyone in America pulls from the lower back. Professional weightlifters, however, use their hips. Here’s what Bret Contreras said in a recent article on T-Nation:

While most individuals bend with a blend of spinal, pelvic, and hip motion, weightlifters possess unique movement patterns at the hip. Stu (McGill) states that:

“Olympic Weightlifters attempt to do the opposite – they lock the lumbar spine close to the neutral position and rotate almost entirely about the hips.”

Of course, Olympic weightlifters are better at hip hinging than normal individuals, but the importance of this information is that the movement patterns developed in the weight room transfer over to everyday life. Master the hip hinge first and everything else seems to fall into place.

This is hard to conceptualize, so look at the pictures below. The first two are random YouTube guys.The third is Taner Sagir. The fourth, Pyyros Dimas.

Compare the YouTubers to the professionals. The YouTubers have bent knees, bent hips, and the bar is away from their body. The pros, however, have straight legs, fully extended hips, and the bar close to their body.

GUTSY GOALS

If you look like the YouTubers, your clean isn’t delivering the PF Flyer promise. This is normal, as hinging takes time to learn. A lot of time. It also means stripping weight from the bar. A lot of weight. People don’t like sacrificing a lot of time and a lot of weight. So they don’t. But they should.

Serious athlete aside, you’re better off for learning how to power clean. It’s a complex movement, and learning how to do complex things is a good thing. And if you perform it using the technique I describe below, it’s indicative of a solid hip hinge—something everyone should have.

AN ATHLETE’S POWER CLEAN

The problem most people have with the power clean starts with the double knee bend, which is usually accepted as a must. The double knee bend happens after the legs initially straighten. After the bar clears the knees, they re-bend back underneath the bar for one last upward heave.

For most people, the hips never snap forward after this happens, meaning the lower back and shoulder jerk combined with a quad push is really what propels the weight in the air. Its turns the movement into a vertically loaded exercise, much like a jump squat.

But we care about the hips. We need the hips. Hip extension and the glutes are where power is cooked up. And the double knee bend, used ignorantly, turns the oven off. It turns hip extension into knee extension.

Luckily there’s another way to do cleans and snatches in the single knee bend technique. Once the legs straighten initially, they don’t re-bend under the bar. So using our romanian deadlift position for reference, the hips snap forward without a second knee bend—similar to a kettlebell swing.

Since there is no “jump” portion of the lift, the quads and patellar tendon are saved extra stress. There’s no aggressive stomp with the barbell crashing down on the clavicles.

Not as much weight can be handled with this technique, especially when learning it. But that doesn’t matter. It’s like dismissing the front squat as a useful exercise because the back squat can be loaded more. More weight is arbitrary and progress is relative. Getting stronger is different than lifting more weight.

THE HINGE, DECONSTRUCTED

Before venturing into power cleaning this way, you have to learn how to hinge. My go-to exercise for teaching this is the romanian deadlift (RDL). There are other hip exercises out there, but none teach standing hip extension quite like the RDL. If you hinge correctly, I’d guess that 90% of your problems would go away, chronic knee pain included. It’s a fundamental aspect of my book, An Athlete’s Guide to Chronic Knee Pain. Learning it is critical.

So if you want to quest towards an athletic power clean, here is a rundown

Learn how to hinge with the hips coming to a strong lockout with the glutes squeezed, especially from a RDL
Incorporate this into the power clean by foregoing the double knee bend and stomp
The feet stay planted on the ground the entire time, simply shoot the hips forward and whip the weight in the air once you hit the RDL position
After some practice, you can come up on your toes and do this
Even then, there’s no need to stomp or reposition the feet.

TL;DR

The power clean has limited application for large group athletic settings. But if you’re going to use it, learn how to hinge with your hips to make it more effective and save your body wear and tear.

Photo Credit: Flickr, Crossfit

Can We Stop With the Prowler Suicides?

“So you want me to push this thing up and down the runway a dozen times?”

“Yeah.”

“How is that going to better prepare me for my sport?”

“It’s not, but watching you throw up is going to be awesome.”

Sometimes I think that conversation happens, silently, between coach and athlete upon programming prowler suicides. But coach always wins out because the general consensus says anything that makes us puke or pass out must be good, and hard gut-wrenching work that makes us better.

But it doesn’t.

Now, I have nothing against pushing a prowler around to raise the heart rate a bit. I think it’s a great tool. But prowler suicides in the name of prowler suicides is asinine.

“But it’s conditioning!”

I’m sure that’s the rebuttal I’ll hear. Upon wherein I’ll ask, “what does conditioning mean?” I probably won’t get a response, but if I did, I’m sure it would be something along the lines of “working until the vomiting sensation creeps into the back of the throat.” But here’s why that’s wrong.

Not many sports involve a few minutes of effort followed by a monumental mental and physical collapse. Sidney Crosby doesn’t play one long shift until utter exhaustion and call it quits. Larry Fitzgerald doesn’t run one route and collapse on the sideline. Ronaldo doesn’t make one run and pull himself from the game. Pujols doesn’t take one at bat and then lounge in the dugout eating sunflower seeds for the rest of the game.

Most athletes can’t afford to blow their load in a game, let alone during one play. And yet this is what prowler suicides teach us to do. More troubling is that they have no specificity to the energy systems involved in sports. They aren’t conditioning. Maybe they are shampoo?

I’ll estimate the average prowler suicide to last one minute. Just an estimate. And I’ll also assume no rest. So let’s look at why this sucks.

Not many sports involve one minute of a continued near-maximal effort. Larry Fitzgerald goes all out for about five or six seconds before he can relax a bit. Ronaldo, although jogging around a lot, only goes all out when he’s making a run. Pujols, well, he swings a bat and runs when he has to, which is very sporadic—never lasting more than a few seconds. Sidney Crosby may benefit the most, considering hockey shifts average 45 seconds. But even then, the intensity of that 45 second shift is one that needs to be repeated over the length of the game.

So tell me how prowler suicides prepare any of those athlete’s for the energy demands they encounter in their sport.

You can’t.

The prowler suicides, as far as I’m concerned, is about as sensible as CrossFit. Yes, I went there. It’s a little safer, for all intents and purposes, but the same logic. The only reason I’d use prowler suicides is to develop an athlete’s mentality. Or for punishment.

That’s not to say the prowler is bad. It isn’t as long as you respect the specifics of the sport. But most don’t. And if you’re an everyday guy training for the fun of it, then go ahead and push that thing across town and have fun doing it. There’s nothing wrong with that. Absolutely nothing. But when people start using it for “conditioning” purposes without regard for specific energy systems that need developed, we have problems.

So can we stop admiring prowler suicides? Can we realize that “conditioning” is, perhaps, the worst concept in existence? Can we honestly evaluate what an athlete needs and tailor their training in a sensible, logical, and planned manner?

My guess is no. But it’s worth a shot.

Share your hatred below.

TL;DR

Athletes that do prowler suicides without regard for specific energy system development are jackasses.

Photo Credit: Alliance Training Center, T-Nation

Lessons From Mike Webster

If you don’t know who Mike Webster is, you owe it to yourself to stick around. Sadly, I was too young to grow up watching Mike play. And, truthfully, if I didn’t grow up in Pittsburgh, I probably wouldn’t know who he was. So before getting into his training methods, here’s a quick biography.

Mike was an American Football player who played the center position until 1990. Sadly, his life was cut short by brain injuries—a result of many concussions over the span of his career. His most notable stint was with the Pittsburgh Steelers in the 70’s, a team now known for being one of the toughest in the history of the NFL. Just watch some old footage if you’re in doubt. But Mike’s beauty, for us at least, is his off-the-field training.

His son, Colin Webster, wrote two interesting articles for Mark Rippetoe and StartingStrength.com. The first one is, Reflections in Iron: Mike Webster’s Training Methods. The second, Quotes from Iron Mike Webster. Both explain Mike’s old school philosophy and training methods. And after reading them, it’s no surprise that the Steelers of the 70’s dominated their opponents.

His methods were old school, similar to Bill Starr’s. I can’t confidently say there is any influence there, but Starr was with the Colts in 1970. His methods could have spread after their Super Bowl win.

From the exterior it looks like another meathead, powerlifting influenced, non-specific “strength and conditioning” program. But if you really read the articles, there’s a lot of beauty in Mike’s training methods. I don’t know the extent of how Mike knew what he knew, but it seems he learned mostly from experience. And if that’s true, he was an astute gentleman that was very “in tune” with his body. So read the articles, but take note of what makes Mike’s training special.

Here are my notes.

The training equipment is that of a minimalist—barbells, racks, benches.
He noted that a closer grip on the bench press was more applicable because he needed tricep strength.
He took exhaustive training notes.
Although he used different schemes, he recommended 5×5 on the classic lifts.
He performed all types of speed and speed-endurance work – 40’s, 100’s, 400’s, and 800’s
The training atmosphere was business like. You didn’t play around.
He used higher reps to build “body armor” and train different areas of the strength continuum. He felt higher repetitions helped him maintain his strength throughout the game.
He did drills specific to his position to make him a better snapper and to get off the ball faster. This is the whole specific physical preparedness (SPP) I talk about. So while he was a squat freak, he also knew that he needed specific practice to get better at his position.
He ran long distances, developing the aerobic system (something most coaches would gag and die over today).
He ran the stadium steps. Again, aerobic development. He felt this helped his legs remain fresh throughout the game.
He sought technical mastery for his position. He trained to get off the ball faster and snap more accurately.
He used higher repetitions at points if he felt beat up.
On par with Bill Starr, he took outrageous supplements.
Didn’t train just to train. He understood what would make him a better snapper, and trained for it. “In fact, in later years he tried to drop a few pounds every season, he said it was necessary for an older player to stay quick off the ball.”
He ate three meals per day.
He had a low resting heart rate for a strength and power athlete. (Hello aerobic training.)
He sought refuge in nature after the season. An extreme deload? Or perhaps the ideal deload?
He realized that maintaining a high level of performance throughout the game was most important. (Hello again aerobic development.)
He realize the importance of slow progress over time. This is what I call “crock pot strength.” Slow cook it. “Even at five pounds a month, that’s still 60 pounds in a year, so if you keep going and don’t quit, in two years you have added more than a hundred pounds to your lifts, and that’s how you get great as a powerlifter. Just take it slow, be patient and don’t get hurt, and you’ll get there.”

While the above information is interesting, Mike’s greatest source of insight comes from one paragraph inside of Quotes from Iron Mike Webster. If I had the resources, I’d print it out all fancy like and put it on my wall.

“So you have to tinker with it, lift enough to stimulate growth and strength gains, and do it in such a way that you can recover and adapt before your nerves forget all about the fact that they had to lift something heavy a few days ago. You can try and track every little thing, or you can just work hard, lift in an appropriate rep range with a weight appropriate to that rep range, and let your body figure it out, because it’s smarter than you anyway, and we’re still trying to figure out how it all works. You just need to put together a reasonable schedule, be consistent with it, and accept that some days you will feel like crap and feel weaker and still blow it out of the water, and some days you will feel great and miss lifts you got last time with ease. Don’t stress over it, just stick with the weights, eat and sleep good, and you will get stronger. It’s a process, and it takes weeks, months, and years rather than days and hours. So consistency, rather than training to the point where you have failed with a given weight, and rather than gotten one more rep with five pounds less, is what will make you grow. Go to failure or don’t. Just make sure you leave the weight room knowing you’ve done something in there, and chances are you’ve done enough.”

RIP “Iron Mike”

How to Bench 400 Pounds (Not What You Think)

What if I told you that benching 400 pounds was more than strengthening the upper body? In October, I posted the original How to Bench 400 Pounds (Not What You May Think) over at Freak Strength. Consider this an update.

My background in tricking, which is rooted in gymnastics, makes me think that I have a certain appreciation for movement. I was by no means a “good” trickster, but I feel that flipping, twisting, and contorting in mid-air has given me a certain kinesthetic sense that I wouldn’t otherwise have. That, and the fact that I’ve been training both outside and barefoot since 2001. (Yes, I was a pioneer of these cool ideas.)

I was taken aback when Dan John centered an entire article around graceful movement. It just made sense to me, especially after observing so many athletes. But movement, let alone graceful movement, isn’t something modern “strength and conditioning” coaches emphasize. How do I know this? Because I would be seeing a lot less stock put into barbells, and a lot more focus put into movement. What kind of movement? All of it, really. But mainly gymnastics.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2SURPu41Wao

Luckily I don’t have to spew this out because Andreas Thorkildsen showcases my ideas for me. There was a video recently released video highlighting more of Thorkildsen’s training. After watching, you would think Thorkildsen was a gymnast. Nope, he’s a javelin thrower. And to reiterate the point I made in the first version of this article, which is a quote from Carl Valle

Clearly a 400 pound bench press is impressive for his frame, but I think he gets a lot out of that lift because of his total body coordination.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJzJjIMna5E

There’s more to “strength and conditioning” than traditional barbell work. The question remains: what can be done to make you a better athlete? This isn’t always the same thing that will make you a better weightlifter. Start the movement of moving. Cartwheels? Why not. Forward and backward rolls? Absolutely. If it teaches you where your body is in space it can’t be a bad thing.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X8h7nVUQTf4&feature=related

Easy Strength: A Review

There’s a guy that roams about my blog, and I’m thankful he’s here. He goes by the name of Coach Stevo and has a website of his own that’s pretty nifty. After some blog post of mine, he told me that my ideas were similar to what was in Easy Strength, written by Dan John and Pavel Tsatsouline, and that I needed to read it. So, I did.

I’m a pretty critical guy when it comes to training materials. When I heard Dan and Pavel were the authors, I prepared for a marmalade of RKC talk. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that [Seinfeld moment].) But when I read about training, I want the madness and not necessarily the methods. I don’t care so much about “programs,” as I do about rationale behind them.

But I have to say that Easy Strength could very well be the best book for a general trainee wondering how to organize their physical preparation for a sport. As usual, Dan John finds a way to incorporate the “easy” into the scientific. Pavel cites many notables through out the book, such as Verkoshansky, Siff, Francis, and other overseas coaches. The book is a bridge between Western coaches and Eastern coaches. Dan John quips from a more anecdotal perspective. Pavel, on the other hand, uses many examples from other athletes and coaches.

Harking back to a series I wrote, How to Prepare Yourself for a Strength and Conditioning Job Without Going to College, this book is a nice fit in stage five. It distinguishes between barbell athletes and non-barbell athletes, and how each of them have different needs. It assures you that there is a “strong enough,” and that barbells don’t create athletes.

As alluded to, however, there is an RKC vibe to it. But if you can comprehend this book, you’re better off than most. That’s not to say that the programs within its pages are the end of all things, but if you keep your mind open and your feelers going, you will be better off after having read this book. With the season of giving right around the corner, consider this for your list.

Look Badass, Play Badass

Earlier this year, Maryland’s football program debuted unique uniforms. Most of the people I follow on Twitter and Facebook hated them.

I loved them.

I’m a fan of unconformity, and I think a lot of Universities—even professional teams—are going to alter their uniforms to make them “cooler,” in hopes of better recruiting. It only makes sense. Youngsters and soft-core sports fans like the teams with cooler uniforms and colors.

Anytime I’m watching a football game with my mom, she asks why people wear “those little bands around their arm.” She doesn’t understand that athletes do things solely for aesthetic appeal. But it’s the same reason people wearing the Maryland uniform have a competitive advantage. The same reason people buy earrings, shoes, and belts to match an outfit. The same reason you don’t often see people wearing a green shirt with red pants.

Style matters.

The better you think you look, the better you feel. And the better you feel, the better you perform. Take advantage of this.

Find your style. It could be special jewelry, knee high socks, or Under Armor. You can borrow it from your idols too. Lacing up Jordan’s prior to a game will have a different feeling as compared to lacing up the generic brand from Wal-Mart.

So if you’re aiming to hit a squat PR, deck yourself out. Sport the high socks, tie the Romaleos, get the Under Armor, and wear the knit beanie toque. If you’re having trouble finding the motivation for your sprint or field work, put on the bicep bands, the nicest pair of athletic shorts you have, and your “special” necklace.

Everyone says, “everything else being equal, the stronger one will win.” Well, everything else being equal, the one that’s wearing clothes that they think they look badass in will win. Silly, but true.

Is The Functional Movement Screening Worthless?

Every year there are new methods, new programs, and new screenings designed to “protect” athletes from injuries. Take the Functional Movement Screening (FMS) for example. It consists of seven mobility screens used to identify incorrect, imbalanced, and compensatory movement patterns throughout the body. The theory being that proficiency in all seven tests lessens your chance for injury. But since when have sports become so predictable?

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KDxeJVIc7iM

The video above showcases a group of NFL guys being taken through the FMS. I know they didn’t work with the athletes long enough to develop proficiency in all seven areas. At the least, they were educated about it. But it is interesting to see how the season is panning out for these guys. Here’s the injury list: Steven Jackson (quad), Greg Jennings (hamstring), Jahvid Best (concussion), Jonathan Stewart (possible ankle), Hakeem Nicks (hamstring), Leon Hall (ruptured achilles), and Patrick Chung (foot). Insane, isn’t it? Only three of the athletes featured have yet to have an injury. Two of which aren’t regular players (Dennis Dixon is second stringer, Aaron Curry has been traded).

Maybe—just maybe—the fancy things we do to prevent injuries don’t do a damn thing. Maybe they contribute to the problem. Here’s what Carl Valle of Elite Track has to say:

The Posture Police coach that is overzealous tends to get athletes bracing too much and living in a tight world instead of a balanced relaxation and contraction environment. Interesting to note the increase in hip tears, sports hernias, and lumbar injuries with “Modern Core Training Performance”. Coaches need to guide the trail not blaze it for the athlete.

The “core” transmits force, no doubt. But rotational athletes flirt with fluidity, grace, and relaxation. They can’t always assume a neutral spine.

If I can remember, Dr. Yessis once said something like, “injuries are more likely caused by improper programming, not muscular imbalances.” It all stems back to adaptation. If adapting is necessary for the good of the organism, it will adapt. A martial artist and a baseball pitcher will surely score differently on the FMS. Shouldn’t we expect that? Shouldn’t we allow individual variances between sports and athletes? Or, should I say, how can’t we allow for variances between sports and athletes?

Edit: In light of the responses this post has been getting, I posted an informal follow up here.

One Exercise You HAVE to Be Doing

You’ve seen claims like this before: this is one exercise you HAVE to be doing. There’s a good chance that you actually started doing it too because, well, you have to.

But realistically, there are few exercises that HAVE to be done—especially when dealing with athletics. An olympic weightlifter has to clean & jerk and snatch. A powerlifter has to squat, bench press, and deadlift. But in soccer, the only thing a midfielder has to do is run, control the soccer ball, and kick the soccer ball. There’s nothing in that job description that also says, “must back squat.”

So the next time you hear, “this is one exercise you HAVE to be doing,” put it into context. If we’re talking about an exercise that implies getting jacked or healthy, then it may have some merit. It’s possible that there are some exercises out there better than the rest for getting your biceps to bulge from your arm. From a flexibility standpoint, for instance, the quad-hip flexor combination stretch—seen at the end of this article—is a must (in my opinion).

But when we talk about exercises for athletic purposes, it gets fuzzy. Arguments can start about what exercise is the best overall, let alone good in general. So it goes from “one exercise you HAVE to be doing,” to “this is the BEST exercise, period.”

This is usually where the dogmatic view of training appears, and usually—although not always—the powerlifting and olympic weightlifting methods intermingle with athletic preparation. Where the guy that trains solo reads about all of these special methods on the internet and begins to implement them into his training to take him the next level. So then we have guys that can’t do one pull-up, can’t squat their own body weight, and yet are doing dynamic effort box squats with 50% 1RM, which probably looks like a seizure with two nickels on the bar.

Don’t get me wrong. All exercise techniques and methods, at some point, have uses. (Well, most, I should say to protect myself from this.) But when it comes to a sport that doesn’t involve barbells, there isn’t One Ring to rule them all.

To better understand why, you have to take a look back at this continuum: general | general-specific | specific. James Smith in, Classification of the Means, does a better job explaining this than I ever could, so check out the article here. But James also tends to sound confusing, so let me translate it for you.

First, understand that this classification system is premised around skills. Every skill needs to be classified differently, and every sport is a combination of different skills. Baseball, for example, is a combination of throwing and catching. But since catching is usually developed throughout the life span, I’ll use the example of throwing, specifically with the position of a pitcher.

General exercises are those exercises that indirectly help in the execution of a movement. Nowhere in a pitch does a pitcher squat with a barbell on their back, yet squats can be used to improve leg strength which can then help someone throw harder. Most anything that can be done with a barbell, or in the weight room, for team sport athletes is general training.

General-specific exercises are the mid-ground. They kind of resemble the skill in question but they don’t quite match up enough to be considered directly specific. For a pitcher, these are things like throwing from the knees or rotational medicine ball throws.

Specific exercises are pretty damn close to being the actual movement, but with slight tweaks. For example: pitching with a slightly weighted ball or a session of long toss (throwing farther than you would during the game, pitching from further than 60′ 6″ away from home plate).

In any sport, the best athletes are the ones that have highly developed specific physical preparedness (SPP). Yet, ironically enough, all most of us care about are the general exercises that develop general physical preparedness (GPP). That’s not to say, however, that GPP is useless—because it isn’t—but rather that you need to focus on both for best results. You can’t rely on your general capacity to carry you through a skilled activity.

So the next time someone tells you that there is one exercise you HAVE to be doing in relation to a skill, there’s a good chance it isn’t true. And it’s exactly why we see high level athletes training their general capacities like shit—what James called “abortions”—and yet still somehow prosper. Their SPP is developed enough that it covers for their lack of GPP.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KOC7O9JOY3Y&feature=related