Yesterday while running hills, I was reminded yet again why this part of OCR training is so important. I ran carrying a 40-pound sandbell up and down the hill. This introduced a number of difficulties that you may be familiar with already: grip strength, endurance, and core power. What you may not be aware of are these two: proper breathing and posture.
We talked about posture last week. I find it best to carry the sandbell right at my waistline. That keeps the center of gravity low and puts nearly zero strain on my lumbar spine. However, if my posture is not right, two things can go wrong. First, the lumbar strain increases if I tend to bend forward at the waist. The cure for that is to tuck the hips and straighten up. Lean into the hill. The other negative effect of this bend is it limits your breathing.
Breathing is critical for endurance, power, and recovery in between obstacles. Many folks tend to inhibit their breathing in two common ways: poor posture and holding their breath. So let's talk about proper breathing.
Suppose you just finished a tough obstacle or a major uphill run. Your breathing is rapid and shallow. Your muscles are screaming for relief. What do you do? Some folks call it "belly breathing" or "yoga breathing". Breath in as deeply as possible through your nose. This is important for two reasons: maximize your intake and maximize the oxygen intake. You want to take in as much air as possible and from that air you want as much of that oxygen to get into your system as possible. The tiny capillaries in your nasal passages are designed to allow that. They do it better than your throat. Inhale through the nose; exhale through the mouth. Your exhale needs to be maximized too. You need to get as much out as possible. You do that not with your chest muscles but with your belly - that big diaphragm muscle. Push out the stale, used air. Force it out. You should see your belly stick out as you breath in. You should see it rapidly collapse as you breathe out. Forced exhalation allows maximum lung capacity to take in fresh oxygen.
This method not only helps you recover more quickly, it helps you endure long runs. After exertion, your breathing is rapid. Notice how your breathing slows down as you belly breathe. To maintain that rate and to keep the maximum oxygen flowing for endurance, keep on belly breathing as you run those long stretches. In the beginning it is hard to do this because it takes concentration. So focus on listening to yourself breathe (don't look down to see if your belly is expanding and contracting as it should. That limits your intake!). Hear that oxygen max into your lungs through your nose. Hear it get forced out of your mouth. Sometimes I do the exhale in three counts. The first exhale is the maximum push. Then I push a little more out on two and three. These are timed with my steps. One push per three steps. Same thing with the long inhale draw - in through the nose for three steps.
Breathing is natural and necessary for survival. So don't forget to breathe. Don't hold your breath on those obstacles! You need oxygen for burst performance here. We usually hold our breath because of fear or poor training. Don't hold your breath during maximum exertion. Pace your breathing in sync with your movement instead. Breath in when your body is most elongated. Exhale when your body folds.
Take crunches for example. Breathe in when your legs are extended and you are laying back. Your lungs have the most space for the most air. Exhale when you crunch. This takes much concentration and practice to get the timing right.
Master's Division Obstacle Course Racers - If you're like me, you joined this sport in its infancy. But we're already in our slide towards the century mark. Find out how to master the world's fastest growing sport, stay fit, and have a ton of fun with the youngsters.
Double Ropes
My favorite obstacle
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Do You Feel Like a Wallenda or a Wallbanger?
Two summers ago I thrilled along with millions of others as we watched Nik Wallenda cross the Grand Canyon on a tightrope. If you didn't see it, watch an excerpt here. Pay close attention and learn how to cross those pesky balance obstacles like logs and beams. These are the keys:
Stand up straight and lock your core. Many elites are required to cross these obstacles standing up. Open class racers sometimes choose to cross by crawling. This may be due to two or more issues. If it's fear of heights, see my last blog for how to overcome that. If it's because of fatigue and a weak core, well, now you know what to work on. A powerful core is critical for just about every obstacle in OCR. More on core training in another post. Elites who attempt to cross by crawling are often penalized.
Why stand up straight with a locked core? Because it keeps your center of gravity (CG) directly above your feet which should be firmly planted on the log or beam. To get a feel for your CG, stand in place on flat ground, preferably wearing your race sneakers. Feet together now. Tighten your core. That means clench your glutes, tuck your hips, let your shoulders down with your hands naturally at your sides. Now check your straightness by placing your open left hand against your belly with your thumb over your bellybutton. Then place your right open hand over your left hand. Slowly raise your right hand up your belly, past your sternum and ribcage, and finally coming to rest with the backside of your hand against your chin.
Notice how your spine straightened, even if slightly? Now keep your right hand in place and place your closed left hand (not a fist, just closed fingers) at the rear base of your neck. Slowly raise your left hand along to the top of your head. Now your neck is aligned with your spine and you are standing perfectly straight. This probably feels really weird the first few times you do it. Practice. This is your best posture.
Now lean ever so slightly in each direction. When you feel yourself tip, you begin to sense where your CG is located. It's that part of your body that feels like it is pulling you down the most. Learn to sense that body part.
Now Wallenda, to walk across that log or beam, keep that CG constantly over your foot target by walking just like the tightrope wonder. Feet straight ahead in the direction you are moving. Place one foot directly in from of the other, landing gently with the ball, heel ever so slightly raised, and firmly coming down onto its target. Repeat by raising the foot as it peeling it from the target like a postage stamp. Hands out wide like that great big rod he carries.
Many people place their feet perpendicular to the log or beam. This is a bad idea. There is actually less target beneath your feet (less surface contact between the target and your foot). This creates more instability, making you work much harder. The back and forth rocking forces your core to oppose the desired direction of travel.
Practice these moves using a 2X4 on the ground. Perfect them, gradually adding height. And don't forget to breathe. More on that next time. Failure to follow these tips could turn you from a Wallenda to a wallbanger (or worse, a ground smacker).
Stand up straight and lock your core. Many elites are required to cross these obstacles standing up. Open class racers sometimes choose to cross by crawling. This may be due to two or more issues. If it's fear of heights, see my last blog for how to overcome that. If it's because of fatigue and a weak core, well, now you know what to work on. A powerful core is critical for just about every obstacle in OCR. More on core training in another post. Elites who attempt to cross by crawling are often penalized.
Why stand up straight with a locked core? Because it keeps your center of gravity (CG) directly above your feet which should be firmly planted on the log or beam. To get a feel for your CG, stand in place on flat ground, preferably wearing your race sneakers. Feet together now. Tighten your core. That means clench your glutes, tuck your hips, let your shoulders down with your hands naturally at your sides. Now check your straightness by placing your open left hand against your belly with your thumb over your bellybutton. Then place your right open hand over your left hand. Slowly raise your right hand up your belly, past your sternum and ribcage, and finally coming to rest with the backside of your hand against your chin.
Notice how your spine straightened, even if slightly? Now keep your right hand in place and place your closed left hand (not a fist, just closed fingers) at the rear base of your neck. Slowly raise your left hand along to the top of your head. Now your neck is aligned with your spine and you are standing perfectly straight. This probably feels really weird the first few times you do it. Practice. This is your best posture.
Now lean ever so slightly in each direction. When you feel yourself tip, you begin to sense where your CG is located. It's that part of your body that feels like it is pulling you down the most. Learn to sense that body part.
Now Wallenda, to walk across that log or beam, keep that CG constantly over your foot target by walking just like the tightrope wonder. Feet straight ahead in the direction you are moving. Place one foot directly in from of the other, landing gently with the ball, heel ever so slightly raised, and firmly coming down onto its target. Repeat by raising the foot as it peeling it from the target like a postage stamp. Hands out wide like that great big rod he carries.
Many people place their feet perpendicular to the log or beam. This is a bad idea. There is actually less target beneath your feet (less surface contact between the target and your foot). This creates more instability, making you work much harder. The back and forth rocking forces your core to oppose the desired direction of travel.
Practice these moves using a 2X4 on the ground. Perfect them, gradually adding height. And don't forget to breathe. More on that next time. Failure to follow these tips could turn you from a Wallenda to a wallbanger (or worse, a ground smacker).
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Obstacle Illusions
Let's move on from recovery to illusions - obstacle illusions.
What is it about obstacles that makes them so tough? Obviously there is the physical aspect. Some require sheer brute strength. But others are just downright scary and intimidating. Usually they involve height or water or both. When the fear factor is introduced, the physical can become almost impossible. How many racers have you seen freeze at the base of an obstacle in absolute fear? Happens all the time. Here's my advice and technique for overcoming one of the most difficult obstacles on the course - the voice of fear in your head.
Fear is very real. I know. I have experienced it. I watch those videos of people who bungee jump from bridges over water. No way. Cold sweat. Great height and water are a no go combo for me. But take one of them away and I am fine. Bungee jump over solid ground? No problem. Swim across great expanses? Sure. Just no high dives thank you. Now I'm sure some devil will put this nasty twosome on a course just to get me.
The first key to getting fear out of the way is to turn this emotional reaction into a physical reality that works in your favor. One common obstacle that racers are afraid of is the stump jump. These are logs stuck in the ground a few feet high, spaced apart. You step or jump from one to the next, landing your feet on a rather small target. It's scary because it's high off the ground. Really? It's only maybe three feet up. Right. That doesn't help.
What's the difference between those stumps and stepping across the same level pavers in your garden? Three vertical feet. Nothing else. But that height factor introduces a threat factor in our brains before we even ascend the first stump. "What if I fall." How do you get rid of that and take the first step up?
Start by practicing on the level garden pavers. Do it just like you would on the course. Stand up straight. Lock your core. Step from one to the next like you are doing lunges. And most important of all, look ahead at your foot target and nothing else. Learn to fix your gaze on where your foot will land. Do not look where your foot will travel during the transition over empty space.
The human eye to brain connection is a fascinating thing. In the darkness, the eyes will always zero in on even the faintest light source. The body will react in turn by automatically following that light. The same holds for heights. The eye/brain, automatically looks for a stable foothold. The head and body follow. "Oh, the firm ground is down there?" Well there you go, straight down to a failed obstacle. Fix your eyes on the little target.
It helps to get in the zone here. For these kinds of obstacles, I can honestly say that my eye training is so good that I literally see nothing else. Call it tunnel vision. It's great in these kinds of situations. Terrible in tactical situations where full-circle awareness is needed. That's a different kind of training altogether. Go to SEAL camp for that.
So start with the pavers on level ground. Then move up to bricks. Gradually increase the height of your footholds until you have perfected your eye to brain to feet coordination. Then you have successfully transformed an emotional obstacle into just another aspect of a physical obstacle. And that my friends you can beat every time.
Here's proof. I'm looking at my next handhold. Nothing else. Twenty feet up.
What is it about obstacles that makes them so tough? Obviously there is the physical aspect. Some require sheer brute strength. But others are just downright scary and intimidating. Usually they involve height or water or both. When the fear factor is introduced, the physical can become almost impossible. How many racers have you seen freeze at the base of an obstacle in absolute fear? Happens all the time. Here's my advice and technique for overcoming one of the most difficult obstacles on the course - the voice of fear in your head.
Fear is very real. I know. I have experienced it. I watch those videos of people who bungee jump from bridges over water. No way. Cold sweat. Great height and water are a no go combo for me. But take one of them away and I am fine. Bungee jump over solid ground? No problem. Swim across great expanses? Sure. Just no high dives thank you. Now I'm sure some devil will put this nasty twosome on a course just to get me.
The first key to getting fear out of the way is to turn this emotional reaction into a physical reality that works in your favor. One common obstacle that racers are afraid of is the stump jump. These are logs stuck in the ground a few feet high, spaced apart. You step or jump from one to the next, landing your feet on a rather small target. It's scary because it's high off the ground. Really? It's only maybe three feet up. Right. That doesn't help.
What's the difference between those stumps and stepping across the same level pavers in your garden? Three vertical feet. Nothing else. But that height factor introduces a threat factor in our brains before we even ascend the first stump. "What if I fall." How do you get rid of that and take the first step up?
Start by practicing on the level garden pavers. Do it just like you would on the course. Stand up straight. Lock your core. Step from one to the next like you are doing lunges. And most important of all, look ahead at your foot target and nothing else. Learn to fix your gaze on where your foot will land. Do not look where your foot will travel during the transition over empty space.
The human eye to brain connection is a fascinating thing. In the darkness, the eyes will always zero in on even the faintest light source. The body will react in turn by automatically following that light. The same holds for heights. The eye/brain, automatically looks for a stable foothold. The head and body follow. "Oh, the firm ground is down there?" Well there you go, straight down to a failed obstacle. Fix your eyes on the little target.
It helps to get in the zone here. For these kinds of obstacles, I can honestly say that my eye training is so good that I literally see nothing else. Call it tunnel vision. It's great in these kinds of situations. Terrible in tactical situations where full-circle awareness is needed. That's a different kind of training altogether. Go to SEAL camp for that.
So start with the pavers on level ground. Then move up to bricks. Gradually increase the height of your footholds until you have perfected your eye to brain to feet coordination. Then you have successfully transformed an emotional obstacle into just another aspect of a physical obstacle. And that my friends you can beat every time.
Here's proof. I'm looking at my next handhold. Nothing else. Twenty feet up.
Saturday, March 14, 2015
Outer Body Experiences
Some say that pain is weakness leaving the body. But what does weakness of mind feel like?
This morning on the course we did bear crawls under the bleachers as our last exercise. We were wet, tired, and beat up. The excuses started flying. But for every excuse, the team let loose with positive encouragement. I love that. But it does very little for my excuse.
I am one month away from my first race of the season. I could run one today but for one small detail. There's this excuse, this weakness of mind that has to be eradicated. I am complacent. I can train at a complacent pace all day long. My endurance capability and tolerance for physical pain is high. And that can be a bad thing too.
Bruce Lee was asked how he trains. "I train like I fight," he said. There is certainly a camp of athletes who train at lower levels, then stoke it up for race time. That's me. But I'm not satisfied with that. Because deep down I believe what Bruce said. My mind creates a lot of excuses why I don't train like that.
I train alone. There's nobody to motivate me. The positive voices in my head only go so far. Here's what works for me.
Get in the zone. Immediately. It's easy on race day. It has to become easy on training days too. When nobody is watching. When nothing is on the line. With one month to go, it's not too late to start to train like I race.
The last guy to get through the bear crawl under the bleachers was really struggling. Not even a quarter of the way through, he stood up and told me he had had enough. I had been watching him all day and many times before during training. He was no where near beat and we both knew it. He just needed to get that weakness out of his mind. I don't know what it felt like for him, but I saw the results. Suddenly he was supercharged. Not only did he finish, but the rest of the team, long finished, came up behind him and finished the rest with him, shouting encouragement all the way. That's what he needed.
What does it take for you to get into the void when nobody is watching? What does it feel like? For me, the void feels exactly like a void should feel. It's a vacuum. Nothingness. My senses shut down completely and I just go in high gear.
Our coach shared an awesome video with the team yesterday. It was all about athletes going to failure. Way past excuses. Into the zone right to shutdown over and over again. No giving up. Like Apollo Creed said in Rocky III, "There is no tomorrow."
Enjoy the feeling.
This morning on the course we did bear crawls under the bleachers as our last exercise. We were wet, tired, and beat up. The excuses started flying. But for every excuse, the team let loose with positive encouragement. I love that. But it does very little for my excuse.
I am one month away from my first race of the season. I could run one today but for one small detail. There's this excuse, this weakness of mind that has to be eradicated. I am complacent. I can train at a complacent pace all day long. My endurance capability and tolerance for physical pain is high. And that can be a bad thing too.
Bruce Lee was asked how he trains. "I train like I fight," he said. There is certainly a camp of athletes who train at lower levels, then stoke it up for race time. That's me. But I'm not satisfied with that. Because deep down I believe what Bruce said. My mind creates a lot of excuses why I don't train like that.
I train alone. There's nobody to motivate me. The positive voices in my head only go so far. Here's what works for me.
Get in the zone. Immediately. It's easy on race day. It has to become easy on training days too. When nobody is watching. When nothing is on the line. With one month to go, it's not too late to start to train like I race.
The last guy to get through the bear crawl under the bleachers was really struggling. Not even a quarter of the way through, he stood up and told me he had had enough. I had been watching him all day and many times before during training. He was no where near beat and we both knew it. He just needed to get that weakness out of his mind. I don't know what it felt like for him, but I saw the results. Suddenly he was supercharged. Not only did he finish, but the rest of the team, long finished, came up behind him and finished the rest with him, shouting encouragement all the way. That's what he needed.
What does it take for you to get into the void when nobody is watching? What does it feel like? For me, the void feels exactly like a void should feel. It's a vacuum. Nothingness. My senses shut down completely and I just go in high gear.
Our coach shared an awesome video with the team yesterday. It was all about athletes going to failure. Way past excuses. Into the zone right to shutdown over and over again. No giving up. Like Apollo Creed said in Rocky III, "There is no tomorrow."
Enjoy the feeling.
Friday, March 13, 2015
Why I Love/Hate OCR
I received an FB post in a Fitness Group from a female from the UK who asked, "I'm aiming for 3 days a week to start with; but wondering how long I should workout for on those days? 1 hour good to start?" She also indicated that she is new to going to the gym. How would you answer her?
Personally, I will not answer the post. I will wait for the other answers to pile up and then perhaps chime in and tell her to ignore them all. Why? Because I hate, absolutely hate this aspect of training.
As I shared before, my estimate is that about 80% of the people I see on an OCR course are there for the first time. Of those, probably 80% are working out for the very first time. For whatever reason.
When I started doing extreme fitness, I used the P90X series. Every DVD starts with a big, bold warning: DO NOT ATTEMPT unless...and it goes on to tell you things like: know your personal health history, see a doctor if you have certain pre-existing conditions, don't even think about it if you have any of the following. You get the idea. But I wonder how many people will answer the girl from the UK like the folks from Beachbody?
When we say OCR is extreme, we're not kidding. As much as I love OCR, love seeing new people get into it, love seeing people overcome all sorts of mental, physical, and emotional obstacles, I hate, hate, hate, seeing them get hurt and never come back again. Taking that all important time out to assess your current abilities prior to engaging in extreme workouts is critical. Once you have done that, get a trainer. That's rule number 2 in P90X - form is everything. Extreme training does not mean reckless abandonment and risk taking. It means learn the form. Don't assume anything. Don't let ego get in the way and cause you injury. I'd hate to see anyone walk away, or worse, due to preventable situations.
Last year at the PA Spartan, my wife and I volunteered at the UOUO obstacle #1. We helped hundreds of newbies conquer the walls. Except one guy. He tried and tried to get over that second wall. He would not accept help. He would not team up with anybody. He would not listen to anything we had to say. And we even spent time asking him how we could help, what he needed, any special limitations. No answer. He just got angry, turned around, and quit. It broke my heart. But at least he walked away unharmed. I can only hope he learned some important lessons in the off-season.
Now what's your advice for a newbie? Sure, just throw them at the warped wall and see what happens? Sorry folks. You gotta be smart. You gotta care. This is such a cool, unique sport the way friendships and teams are formed around it. Don't just encourage, tell each other to take these two vital steps: Get yourselves checked out by a trusted sports physician or your family doc, and; get an OCR trained person to coach you and train you in the right techniques. It's worth your time and investment.
Personally, I will not answer the post. I will wait for the other answers to pile up and then perhaps chime in and tell her to ignore them all. Why? Because I hate, absolutely hate this aspect of training.
As I shared before, my estimate is that about 80% of the people I see on an OCR course are there for the first time. Of those, probably 80% are working out for the very first time. For whatever reason.
When I started doing extreme fitness, I used the P90X series. Every DVD starts with a big, bold warning: DO NOT ATTEMPT unless...and it goes on to tell you things like: know your personal health history, see a doctor if you have certain pre-existing conditions, don't even think about it if you have any of the following. You get the idea. But I wonder how many people will answer the girl from the UK like the folks from Beachbody?
When we say OCR is extreme, we're not kidding. As much as I love OCR, love seeing new people get into it, love seeing people overcome all sorts of mental, physical, and emotional obstacles, I hate, hate, hate, seeing them get hurt and never come back again. Taking that all important time out to assess your current abilities prior to engaging in extreme workouts is critical. Once you have done that, get a trainer. That's rule number 2 in P90X - form is everything. Extreme training does not mean reckless abandonment and risk taking. It means learn the form. Don't assume anything. Don't let ego get in the way and cause you injury. I'd hate to see anyone walk away, or worse, due to preventable situations.
Last year at the PA Spartan, my wife and I volunteered at the UOUO obstacle #1. We helped hundreds of newbies conquer the walls. Except one guy. He tried and tried to get over that second wall. He would not accept help. He would not team up with anybody. He would not listen to anything we had to say. And we even spent time asking him how we could help, what he needed, any special limitations. No answer. He just got angry, turned around, and quit. It broke my heart. But at least he walked away unharmed. I can only hope he learned some important lessons in the off-season.
Now what's your advice for a newbie? Sure, just throw them at the warped wall and see what happens? Sorry folks. You gotta be smart. You gotta care. This is such a cool, unique sport the way friendships and teams are formed around it. Don't just encourage, tell each other to take these two vital steps: Get yourselves checked out by a trusted sports physician or your family doc, and; get an OCR trained person to coach you and train you in the right techniques. It's worth your time and investment.
Sunday, March 8, 2015
Hit the Hay
I hope you watch the Spartan Race series on TV. Watch Steve Austin's Broken Skull Ranch Challenge too. Watch all the videos about OCR that you can on YouTube. Training videos are great for learning good technique as well as unlearning bad technique. The worst failure I see in Spartan is the spear throw. So I'd like to share with you a secret to successfully sticking the spear into the hay bale. It is keyed to your recovery.
The proper grip for throwing the spear is the sword grip that we covered last time. When you hold and release the spear, it should just roll off the middle three fingers. The thumb and little finger do all the control. It's kind of like throwing a football. To get that perfect spiral, the ball has to roll off the fingers touching the laces. You just can't throw a football or a spear if you hold it like you're crushing a grapefruit.
But that's not the secret. I already told you about that. The secret is in how you sleep at night. As I mentioned before, a consistently good nights' sleep is key to recovery. But how do you ensure that? If you're like me, you get pretty hyped up the closer race day comes. I get hyped up at night just thinking about the next day's training. But all those thoughts get my adrenaline going and then I can't get to sleep. Not good.
Usually I don't need to do the sword grip thing to get into the sleep zone. There's another secret. How can you tell that you are totally relaxed when you get into bed? They key is in your tongue. If you are relaxed, your tongue will sort of float freely in your mouth. If you are hyped up, tense, nervous, angry, or whatever, your tongue will be pressed against the roof of your mouth. You aren't even aware of it. How about right now? Check!
This takes practice. Relax your whole body. Relax your mind. Use the tongue technique to ensure everything is ready to slip into la la land.
Now do the same thing on the course. Are you too tensed up about throwing that frickin' spear again? Relax your grip. Now relax your entire body and do a double-check with the tongue. Get in the zone. Direct all the energy into that spear tip. When you release, you'll know you have it right when you see the forefinger of your throwing hand pointing right where that spear will stick in just a moment.. You'll also be smiling, not gritting your teeth with your tongue pressed against the roof of your mouth.
Try it and let me know how it goes for you. This takes practice.
The proper grip for throwing the spear is the sword grip that we covered last time. When you hold and release the spear, it should just roll off the middle three fingers. The thumb and little finger do all the control. It's kind of like throwing a football. To get that perfect spiral, the ball has to roll off the fingers touching the laces. You just can't throw a football or a spear if you hold it like you're crushing a grapefruit.
But that's not the secret. I already told you about that. The secret is in how you sleep at night. As I mentioned before, a consistently good nights' sleep is key to recovery. But how do you ensure that? If you're like me, you get pretty hyped up the closer race day comes. I get hyped up at night just thinking about the next day's training. But all those thoughts get my adrenaline going and then I can't get to sleep. Not good.
Usually I don't need to do the sword grip thing to get into the sleep zone. There's another secret. How can you tell that you are totally relaxed when you get into bed? They key is in your tongue. If you are relaxed, your tongue will sort of float freely in your mouth. If you are hyped up, tense, nervous, angry, or whatever, your tongue will be pressed against the roof of your mouth. You aren't even aware of it. How about right now? Check!
This takes practice. Relax your whole body. Relax your mind. Use the tongue technique to ensure everything is ready to slip into la la land.
Now do the same thing on the course. Are you too tensed up about throwing that frickin' spear again? Relax your grip. Now relax your entire body and do a double-check with the tongue. Get in the zone. Direct all the energy into that spear tip. When you release, you'll know you have it right when you see the forefinger of your throwing hand pointing right where that spear will stick in just a moment.. You'll also be smiling, not gritting your teeth with your tongue pressed against the roof of your mouth.
Try it and let me know how it goes for you. This takes practice.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
Getting Started
A young lady asked me the other day how to start training for her first mud run. I suggested that she spend the next three months working up to doing "the Murph". And then I didn't hear back from her. A few days later I asked her if this was just too intimidating. "Not really. But never getting on a course for practice before the real thing, that scares me," she said. So the question for you all is this, do you need to train on a course before you actually do a mud run?
Well, here's the facts as I know them. There are only a few handfuls of permanent courses in the USA. So the odds of you living near one of them to train on are pretty low. On the other hand, new courses are springing up all the time and there are hundreds of races to choose from around the country. My own estimate is that probably 80% of the people who show up to mud runs have never trained on a course and probably have not trained at all for the event.
So my answer is to those of you who will train before you do an OCR. First things first. Do you need to train on a course? No. You probably don't have one near you. But, even if you live in a city, you probably do have a bunch of playgrounds around. These are perfect training places. Be a kid again and get on the monkey bars. Do pullups, traverses, grip strength work. I do playground runs every week. There are five of them in my town, each spaced about a half mile apart. This is great OCR simulation. Run to a playground, do a few sets of hard exercise, repeat. Have fun with it. Mix up the workouts. I can work every body part on a playground.
I have a friend, an elite OCR runner, who lives up in Brooklyn. This is exactly how he trains. He steps it up with some of his own inventions that he keeps in the trunk of his car. He brings his training with him. A tire, a rope, a big rock, a weighted vest, a sandbell. Most of this stuff he got from a junkyard or the trash. Another buddy of mine built his own mini obstacle course in his backyard. When I was working up in Brooklyn, Fort Greene was my training place. A big hill, a playground, and lots of natural obstacles all over the place. Climb trees, jump over rocks, carry big heavy logs cut by the groundskeepers. Be creative.
The bottom line is you don't need a gym to train in for a mud run. You don't need a course. But you do need a plan and a stick-to-it drive. I suggest a minimum of 90 days training to get prepared. Run. A lot. Do pullups, pushups, muscle-ups, and crunches. A lot. What's a lot?
When I started training my wife, she was intimidated by doing any pushups or pullups. Then one day after a few months, we went outside to my little gym, and we did a simple pushup/pullup routine. A half hour later we were done. She had done over 100 of each. It didn't even register with her until I told her the number. She was shocked. She really could do it. And so can you.
Well, here's the facts as I know them. There are only a few handfuls of permanent courses in the USA. So the odds of you living near one of them to train on are pretty low. On the other hand, new courses are springing up all the time and there are hundreds of races to choose from around the country. My own estimate is that probably 80% of the people who show up to mud runs have never trained on a course and probably have not trained at all for the event.
So my answer is to those of you who will train before you do an OCR. First things first. Do you need to train on a course? No. You probably don't have one near you. But, even if you live in a city, you probably do have a bunch of playgrounds around. These are perfect training places. Be a kid again and get on the monkey bars. Do pullups, traverses, grip strength work. I do playground runs every week. There are five of them in my town, each spaced about a half mile apart. This is great OCR simulation. Run to a playground, do a few sets of hard exercise, repeat. Have fun with it. Mix up the workouts. I can work every body part on a playground.
I have a friend, an elite OCR runner, who lives up in Brooklyn. This is exactly how he trains. He steps it up with some of his own inventions that he keeps in the trunk of his car. He brings his training with him. A tire, a rope, a big rock, a weighted vest, a sandbell. Most of this stuff he got from a junkyard or the trash. Another buddy of mine built his own mini obstacle course in his backyard. When I was working up in Brooklyn, Fort Greene was my training place. A big hill, a playground, and lots of natural obstacles all over the place. Climb trees, jump over rocks, carry big heavy logs cut by the groundskeepers. Be creative.
The bottom line is you don't need a gym to train in for a mud run. You don't need a course. But you do need a plan and a stick-to-it drive. I suggest a minimum of 90 days training to get prepared. Run. A lot. Do pullups, pushups, muscle-ups, and crunches. A lot. What's a lot?
When I started training my wife, she was intimidated by doing any pushups or pullups. Then one day after a few months, we went outside to my little gym, and we did a simple pushup/pullup routine. A half hour later we were done. She had done over 100 of each. It didn't even register with her until I told her the number. She was shocked. She really could do it. And so can you.
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Be the Ball
Danny Noonan lines up the putt. The audience is hushed. A full-ride scholarship is on the line. Danny starts the backswing. Just then, his partner Ty Webb says, "Be the ball Danny. Just be the ball." This classic moment from the film Caddyshack brings to mind Chevy Chase's (Ty Webb) unconventional approach to getting in the zone.
My approach is even more bizarre and sure to elicit some laughs perhaps. But I don't take credit for this method. It is thousands of years old. It comes from Japan, a secret of martial arts rarely shared outside the country. I thank my friend Tanabe-san for showing it to me.
The secret, so he says, to getting into the zone (the void) on command, is simply this: tighten your inner sphincter. This is a small, donut-shaped muscle between the rectum and the small intestine. Imagine you are inconveniently far from a restroom when nature calls for a #2. This is the muscle you squeeze to hold it all in. You know the feeling.
Now, do that and combine it with the sword grip discussed last time. Do this with an empty hand with just the little finger. Relax everything else in the body. Now the combination of this reflexological pressure on the hand and the pucker factor will do something utterly amazing. It keeps the flow of chemicals your body releases during moments of tension from reaching your heart and brain. These are negative chemicals, not including adrenaline, since this crucial zone chemical is produced in the adrenal gland which is above the waistline.
I kind of laughed at this suggestion until two things happened. First, I saw firsthand other Japanese practicing it during a very tense situation we were all involved in at the time of this lesson. So naturally I tried it myself. Sure enough, instant zone. The heart rate went down. The breathing rate went down. The production of lactic acid decreased. The fear and anxiety went away. Seems like the ninjas knew what they were talking about.
Now had Danny Noonan known this and done it, what happened next in the movie would not have happened and it would not have been funny. But poor Danny just couldn't be the ball with all that chatter from Ty going on. "Okay Danny. I'm not talking now, not talking."
What method(s) do you use for getting into the zone? What works for you? What success have you had with controlling this ability on demand? If you try my method, let me know how it works for you.
My approach is even more bizarre and sure to elicit some laughs perhaps. But I don't take credit for this method. It is thousands of years old. It comes from Japan, a secret of martial arts rarely shared outside the country. I thank my friend Tanabe-san for showing it to me.
The secret, so he says, to getting into the zone (the void) on command, is simply this: tighten your inner sphincter. This is a small, donut-shaped muscle between the rectum and the small intestine. Imagine you are inconveniently far from a restroom when nature calls for a #2. This is the muscle you squeeze to hold it all in. You know the feeling.
Now, do that and combine it with the sword grip discussed last time. Do this with an empty hand with just the little finger. Relax everything else in the body. Now the combination of this reflexological pressure on the hand and the pucker factor will do something utterly amazing. It keeps the flow of chemicals your body releases during moments of tension from reaching your heart and brain. These are negative chemicals, not including adrenaline, since this crucial zone chemical is produced in the adrenal gland which is above the waistline.
I kind of laughed at this suggestion until two things happened. First, I saw firsthand other Japanese practicing it during a very tense situation we were all involved in at the time of this lesson. So naturally I tried it myself. Sure enough, instant zone. The heart rate went down. The breathing rate went down. The production of lactic acid decreased. The fear and anxiety went away. Seems like the ninjas knew what they were talking about.
Now had Danny Noonan known this and done it, what happened next in the movie would not have happened and it would not have been funny. But poor Danny just couldn't be the ball with all that chatter from Ty going on. "Okay Danny. I'm not talking now, not talking."
What method(s) do you use for getting into the zone? What works for you? What success have you had with controlling this ability on demand? If you try my method, let me know how it works for you.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
The Ninja Zone
Eric von Lustbader wrote "The Ninja" back in 1980. I would soon graduate from high school that year. Things had been tough. I needed exactly what Lustbader wrote about, "the void". A place to hide, get away from it all, escape.
That's not really what "the void" was in his book. To a ninja, the void is what we today might call the "zone". Getting in the zone on command whether on the course or in training is a necessary tool. What exactly is the void/zone? How do you get into it? We hear people talk about it but, as Lustbader wrote, it is not well understood, difficult to master, more difficult to control. It is worth a lifetime of pursuit.
As a master OCR mudder, I encourage you to start this practice young.
Getting into the zone/void is something you must strive to achieve at any time. It is not just for when you are in pain, sprinting to the finish line, going for that PR. Sometimes being in the void is just for plain fun, for the joy of being there in the midst of whatever it is you are doing.
Yesterday was my long run. It's been a tough winter. I had hoped most of the trail snow was gone, especially on the hills. But it wasn't. As I approached the hill, I slipped into the void, noting just before the sheer aloneness that I was experiencing in the woods. Just me, the trail, the sun, snow, and the snap, crackle, pop of the ice under my feet. It was mesmerizing. Entrancing. Like floating along without effort. I needed that, because I wanted those hills so badly. And they were tough. But I never noticed. I joyfully ran home, still full of juice for the rest of the day.
I'd love to run an entire OCR race just like that. But is it really something that just happens, a perfect moment, an aligning of the planets?
No. Getting in the zone takes practice and skill. A Japanese friend of mine, Tanabe-san, taught me some things he learned from his sensei. I will pass them onto you now.
The primary tool of the ninja is his sword. To get into the zone, you must learn the proper grip of a sword. Imagine that your dumbbell is a sword. All of the grip power, strength, and effort is in the thumb and little finger. Hold your weight like that. You'll have it right when you can easily release your other three fingers from the bar. Notice that the weight is still perfectly balanced and firmly within your hand. Now slowly twist your wrist a little to each side. The weight remains affixed. It is a part of you, like a sword. You can move the weight in any direction and it will not slip.
Using all five fingers does not work as well. The mind and hand will tend to want to hold on with the middle three fingers, gripping and squeezing for dear life. Meanwhile, the thumb and little finger exert less effort. Now the weight is less stable.
Think about this when you are on the course. Consider all the things you must do where grip strength is so critical like monkey bars, cargo nets, the spear throw. Do these things with a ninja grip instead.
Tomorrow I will share with you the most important tool a ninja uses for getting into the void, also courtesy of my friend Tanabe-san. Today's lesson Grasshopper was just one example of the kinds of tools and mental sets that you need to get into and stay in the zone. That is where you achieve maximum effort with the least amount of energy. You will be your absolute best out there when you are in the void.
That's not really what "the void" was in his book. To a ninja, the void is what we today might call the "zone". Getting in the zone on command whether on the course or in training is a necessary tool. What exactly is the void/zone? How do you get into it? We hear people talk about it but, as Lustbader wrote, it is not well understood, difficult to master, more difficult to control. It is worth a lifetime of pursuit.
As a master OCR mudder, I encourage you to start this practice young.
Getting into the zone/void is something you must strive to achieve at any time. It is not just for when you are in pain, sprinting to the finish line, going for that PR. Sometimes being in the void is just for plain fun, for the joy of being there in the midst of whatever it is you are doing.
Yesterday was my long run. It's been a tough winter. I had hoped most of the trail snow was gone, especially on the hills. But it wasn't. As I approached the hill, I slipped into the void, noting just before the sheer aloneness that I was experiencing in the woods. Just me, the trail, the sun, snow, and the snap, crackle, pop of the ice under my feet. It was mesmerizing. Entrancing. Like floating along without effort. I needed that, because I wanted those hills so badly. And they were tough. But I never noticed. I joyfully ran home, still full of juice for the rest of the day.
I'd love to run an entire OCR race just like that. But is it really something that just happens, a perfect moment, an aligning of the planets?
No. Getting in the zone takes practice and skill. A Japanese friend of mine, Tanabe-san, taught me some things he learned from his sensei. I will pass them onto you now.
The primary tool of the ninja is his sword. To get into the zone, you must learn the proper grip of a sword. Imagine that your dumbbell is a sword. All of the grip power, strength, and effort is in the thumb and little finger. Hold your weight like that. You'll have it right when you can easily release your other three fingers from the bar. Notice that the weight is still perfectly balanced and firmly within your hand. Now slowly twist your wrist a little to each side. The weight remains affixed. It is a part of you, like a sword. You can move the weight in any direction and it will not slip.
Using all five fingers does not work as well. The mind and hand will tend to want to hold on with the middle three fingers, gripping and squeezing for dear life. Meanwhile, the thumb and little finger exert less effort. Now the weight is less stable.
Think about this when you are on the course. Consider all the things you must do where grip strength is so critical like monkey bars, cargo nets, the spear throw. Do these things with a ninja grip instead.
Tomorrow I will share with you the most important tool a ninja uses for getting into the void, also courtesy of my friend Tanabe-san. Today's lesson Grasshopper was just one example of the kinds of tools and mental sets that you need to get into and stay in the zone. That is where you achieve maximum effort with the least amount of energy. You will be your absolute best out there when you are in the void.
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