I have been working with Whitney for six years now, since she was a junior in high school. She is now getting ready for her senior year in college, and last competitive season as a field hockey player. We have spent numerous hours together in the weight room, and hundreds more on the track, getting her ready for competition.
For five summers she has had a difficult time hitting her target run times until the last week of the summer, and even then, those have been a struggle. In short, she hates to run, and it often psychs her out.
This year, I decided to cut her running down to a minimum, and concentrate on her kettlebell work. Admittedly it was a little risky, but I felt it was worth the try. (Last summer, she stayed at school most of the time, trained with me minimally, and struggled to get playing time in the fall -- it was now time to try and regain her sophomore form, and try and improve it!)
Whit has been very willing to try the new approach, and has been one of our best kettlebell students this summer. She has come for extra time, focusing on gaining the strength and cardiovascular endurance she will need.
She has pressed more weight, for more repetitions than she has ever been able to before.
She has conditioned herself like a "Viking", following Kenneth Jay's Viking Conditioning plan. (Ironically, her high school's nickname is the Vikings...go figure).
She has ran minimally, focusing only on sprints, with few long runs. I felt she has paid the Pavement Gods enough in terms of time and energy.
We have, however, followed her summer conditioning protocol for testing, which calls for specific times to be met on specific days.
This was a testing week.
Yesterday, she hit her target time in all 12 of her 100 yard sprints. In fact, I "cheated" and marked off 100 meters, instead of yards, so her runs were actually farther, yet still within the required time for the test.
Today, she ran her fastest mile ever -- 6:32. Excellent, considering her target for August is 6:40.
The only difference? Kettlebells. She is stronger, faster, and has more endurance than ever before. And she is starting to believe it as well. To see her elation when I showed her the stopwatch at the end of the mile was incredible.
And we still have a month to improve on that!
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
What happens in Vegas...
As I write this I am sitting in the business center at the Paris Hotel, site of the National Strength and Conditioning Association's 32nd Annual Conference. for the past three days, and for the next 10 hours I am sitting through session after session of relevant, science-based information for the strength and fitness industry.
Like any other conference, there are good and bad presentations. I have been mostly fortunate. I have had the pleasure of sitting through seven hours of Gray Cook and Lee Burton outlining their Functional Movement Screen and its effects on human movement, both for athletes and non-athletes alike.
Those who know me, know how much I respect Gray and his research. To have seven hours of his time, teaching me how to better screen my clients is priceless. And better screening only makes me a better trainer.
Interestingly, Dragon Door announced yesterday its schedule for the 2010 Certified Kettlebell Functional Movement Screen Workshop for next May. Was it a sign that my email buzzed with this announcement while I was sitting in Gray's presentation? I don't know, but I plan on being there in May.
I spent time learning about rotational athletes (We are all rotational athletes), and have some new drills for them, as well as some new torture for my hockey kids. (Be very afraid).
Most of my traditional clients will benefit as well -- Todd Durkin, who is LaDanian Tomlinson's trainer, brought some new perspectives into my training. Even though I have been to many of Todd's presentations in the past, and have visited his facility on several occasions, he never fails to bring new ideas to the table.
And speaking to many of my fellow delegates, the reason we are here is not simply to get some continuing education credits, but to learn how to do our jobs better. The attendees here are the best of the best, willing to put thousands of dollars on the line (it is Vegas, afterall), and take time out of our weeks, to learn. We don't simply read articles in the latest consumer magazine. We get out, interact, and question the leaders in the industry.
Rest assured, what is happening here in Vegas will not stay in Vegas.
Like any other conference, there are good and bad presentations. I have been mostly fortunate. I have had the pleasure of sitting through seven hours of Gray Cook and Lee Burton outlining their Functional Movement Screen and its effects on human movement, both for athletes and non-athletes alike.
Those who know me, know how much I respect Gray and his research. To have seven hours of his time, teaching me how to better screen my clients is priceless. And better screening only makes me a better trainer.
Interestingly, Dragon Door announced yesterday its schedule for the 2010 Certified Kettlebell Functional Movement Screen Workshop for next May. Was it a sign that my email buzzed with this announcement while I was sitting in Gray's presentation? I don't know, but I plan on being there in May.
I spent time learning about rotational athletes (We are all rotational athletes), and have some new drills for them, as well as some new torture for my hockey kids. (Be very afraid).
Most of my traditional clients will benefit as well -- Todd Durkin, who is LaDanian Tomlinson's trainer, brought some new perspectives into my training. Even though I have been to many of Todd's presentations in the past, and have visited his facility on several occasions, he never fails to bring new ideas to the table.
And speaking to many of my fellow delegates, the reason we are here is not simply to get some continuing education credits, but to learn how to do our jobs better. The attendees here are the best of the best, willing to put thousands of dollars on the line (it is Vegas, afterall), and take time out of our weeks, to learn. We don't simply read articles in the latest consumer magazine. We get out, interact, and question the leaders in the industry.
Rest assured, what is happening here in Vegas will not stay in Vegas.
Friday, June 26, 2009
It's not always the headlines that make my day...
I train a lot of athletes. I have worked directly with 23 current NCAA student-athletes, several more who have "retired", and numerous high school athletes who are striving to take the next step. I do summer conditioning for entire teams, and enjoy seeing these kids grow in strength and speed.
I enjoy going to their games, watching them play, and reading about them in the papers the next day.
But as much as these successes mean to me, they pale compared to what I believe are the true reasons I became a trainer in the first place:
1. The 60-something retired gentleman who had chronic knee pain. After working through a six-week routine religiously he has been pain-free for almost 8 months.
2. The 37-year old housewife who struggles with Multiple Sclerosis and fibromyalgia. She walks for three miles now without fatigue, when she used to get winded climbing stairs.
3. The diabetic retiree who had balance and core strength issues. He has worked hard on a program to improve his stamina and balance.
And my most recent challenge -- the 18-year old who is recovering from a brain tumor. For years he has not used his right side because it was difficult. I would not let him rely on his left side, forcing him to use the weaker, imbalanced arm.
After two weeks he has a grip with his right arm that he hadn't had. And we are starting to work on more functional activities. Hopefully, he will soon be able to do many things that most of us take for granted.
None of these would be possible if my clients did not have the drive and desire to improve their functional living. I just provided the tools and the guidance, but they stayed with the program and are seeing the results.
That is what makes my day.
I enjoy going to their games, watching them play, and reading about them in the papers the next day.
But as much as these successes mean to me, they pale compared to what I believe are the true reasons I became a trainer in the first place:
1. The 60-something retired gentleman who had chronic knee pain. After working through a six-week routine religiously he has been pain-free for almost 8 months.
2. The 37-year old housewife who struggles with Multiple Sclerosis and fibromyalgia. She walks for three miles now without fatigue, when she used to get winded climbing stairs.
3. The diabetic retiree who had balance and core strength issues. He has worked hard on a program to improve his stamina and balance.
And my most recent challenge -- the 18-year old who is recovering from a brain tumor. For years he has not used his right side because it was difficult. I would not let him rely on his left side, forcing him to use the weaker, imbalanced arm.
After two weeks he has a grip with his right arm that he hadn't had. And we are starting to work on more functional activities. Hopefully, he will soon be able to do many things that most of us take for granted.
None of these would be possible if my clients did not have the drive and desire to improve their functional living. I just provided the tools and the guidance, but they stayed with the program and are seeing the results.
That is what makes my day.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
The family gets bigger
The first two weeks of summer are notoriously my busiest of the year. My high school kids are trying to move from afterschool sessions to morning sessions. My college kids are trying to get in in the afternoon (Presumably when they get out of bed!). And my parent clients are moving to the mornings because they no longer have to get kids ready for school. It makes for a pretty hectic week, as I usually don't know whether I am coming or going.
Add to that my kettlebell classes, which are now in three locations, and my work with the Gahanna High School Ice Hockey team, which adds 42 boys to my mix.
It is a good problem to have, considering many people in this country are looking for work.
But here it is Saturday morning, and I finally had a chance to come up for air! At least for a day or so, and then it is back to the weekly cycle.
Last week, I blogged about Joel, who was going through the RKC certification. Well, I am happy to report that Joel kicked some serious butt up in St. Paul (along with having his own kicked a few times), and he is now a member of the RKC family. Cat and I had no doubts about him making it because of his dedication and commitment to excellence, and we are very happy to have him as a student and a Comrade. Congratulations Joel.
Our second RKC candidate student, Cara, will be attending the San Diego certification in August. And she has three of us beating on her! No doubt she will do us proud as well.
I would also like to congratulate all the other RKCs who survived last weekend. I'm sure you "enjoyed" the process as much as we did, and look forward to inflicting pain on many other unsuspecting victims. Welcome to the family.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
If you ignore...
One of the greatest pieces of advice I ever received was from Ron Oestrike, head baseball coach at Eastern Michigan University. In 1983, Coach "O" told me simply, "If you ignore, it means you accept."
Seven words, nine total syllables. But a lifetime of following.
If something makes you unhappy, and you do nothing to change it, you accept it. And you have no one to blame but yourself.
As a trainer, if I accept improper form, I am telling my client that it is okay to do thins wrong.
As a parent, if I accept bad behavior, I am telling my kids it is okay to continue to misbehave.
As an employer, if an employee continually comes in late, and I do nothing, I accept his tardiness.
Whatever role you are playing, if something is not right and you do nothing about it, don't wait six months and try and change it. By then it is too late. And it is your fault. No one else's.
This weekend is another RKC certification weekend in St. Paul. For Cat and myself it marks the first time we are sending one of our students off to be "tortured" by Pavel, Andrea, and the rest of the training group.
Over the past six months we have worked with Joel correcting his technique, inspiring him, teaching, and helping him teach as a means of getting him ready for the next three days. Rest assured, we took no shortcuts. We did not ignore minor flaws, because they grow into major ones.
We gave him the tools to excel, and he ran with them
We gave him insights into what he can expect, but didn't divulge too much -- this is a weekend that has to be experienced.
Like proud parents, Cat and I sent Joel off to Minnesota fully confident in his abilities. Like nervous parents, we will be waiting for the report card, and the school bus (okay, Airplane) when he returns.
We have done our part. Joel is doing his. Now it is Pavel's turn.
And, like Coach Oestrike, Pavel doesn't ignore.
Seven words, nine total syllables. But a lifetime of following.
If something makes you unhappy, and you do nothing to change it, you accept it. And you have no one to blame but yourself.
As a trainer, if I accept improper form, I am telling my client that it is okay to do thins wrong.
As a parent, if I accept bad behavior, I am telling my kids it is okay to continue to misbehave.
As an employer, if an employee continually comes in late, and I do nothing, I accept his tardiness.
Whatever role you are playing, if something is not right and you do nothing about it, don't wait six months and try and change it. By then it is too late. And it is your fault. No one else's.
This weekend is another RKC certification weekend in St. Paul. For Cat and myself it marks the first time we are sending one of our students off to be "tortured" by Pavel, Andrea, and the rest of the training group.
Over the past six months we have worked with Joel correcting his technique, inspiring him, teaching, and helping him teach as a means of getting him ready for the next three days. Rest assured, we took no shortcuts. We did not ignore minor flaws, because they grow into major ones.
We gave him the tools to excel, and he ran with them
We gave him insights into what he can expect, but didn't divulge too much -- this is a weekend that has to be experienced.
Like proud parents, Cat and I sent Joel off to Minnesota fully confident in his abilities. Like nervous parents, we will be waiting for the report card, and the school bus (okay, Airplane) when he returns.
We have done our part. Joel is doing his. Now it is Pavel's turn.
And, like Coach Oestrike, Pavel doesn't ignore.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
I thought I'd seen everything...
I was at a hockey game yesterday (Yes, hockey in June...hockey parents are a little off!), and I saw something I had never seen before, and I hope to never see again.
The local high schools here play in a summer league where checking is not allowed. It is designed to get the kids a little more ice time, as well as get incoming freshmen used to the faster play. My stepson is making the transition to freshman hockey, so this is an opportunity for him to play with older boys.
When we got to the rink, another game was going on. It was borderline physical, but without any real hits. At one point two players collided, and the one who did not fall was given a two minute penalty. No big deal.
Toward the end of the game, with one team (Team A) up 6-4, the leading team had a penalty called for checking. The penalized player went to the penalty box. The player that was knocked over took a swing at the first player. No penalty was called.
With 30 seconds left in the game, Team B scored a goal, and Team A's penalized player came out of the penalty box and back on the ice.
When the game ended, and the teams lined up to shake hands, Team B's player, still reeling from being checked, made a beeline toward the player from Team A. He hit him in the back with his stick, and took a punch at him. Then all hell broke loose. Players from both teams jumped each other, and the referees had to wrestle the two original combatants apart. At one point, they had team B's player pinned to the wall.
They then made a terrible mistake. Instead of forcing the player off the ice, they simply let him go. He then made another beeline toward Team A's player, but was tackled by other players from Team A before he could get there. Now, in addition to the referees, rink security officials were on the ice trying to sort through the mayhem.
Then, I saw what I had never seen before. The player's parents came out onto the ice to drag their son off. What amazed me was there didn't seem to be a bit of embarrassment on the player's mom's face as she took her kid to the locker room.
If that were my kid, there would be hell to pay.
Parents, remember, you are your kids' first coaches. Teach them to play, but teach them sportsmanship as well. Teach them the rules, but teach them teamwork.
I contrast this with what happened at the Ohio State High School Track Championship yesterday as well. One local sprinter was favored to win the 10o, 200, and 400-meter dashes. He won the 200 and 400, but finished second in the 100. Instead of lamenting how he missed a rare triple, he was more concerned that the loss of points would cost his TEAM the TEAM title.
His teammates come through, and they did win the title.
A just reward for putting the team first.
The local high schools here play in a summer league where checking is not allowed. It is designed to get the kids a little more ice time, as well as get incoming freshmen used to the faster play. My stepson is making the transition to freshman hockey, so this is an opportunity for him to play with older boys.
When we got to the rink, another game was going on. It was borderline physical, but without any real hits. At one point two players collided, and the one who did not fall was given a two minute penalty. No big deal.
Toward the end of the game, with one team (Team A) up 6-4, the leading team had a penalty called for checking. The penalized player went to the penalty box. The player that was knocked over took a swing at the first player. No penalty was called.
With 30 seconds left in the game, Team B scored a goal, and Team A's penalized player came out of the penalty box and back on the ice.
When the game ended, and the teams lined up to shake hands, Team B's player, still reeling from being checked, made a beeline toward the player from Team A. He hit him in the back with his stick, and took a punch at him. Then all hell broke loose. Players from both teams jumped each other, and the referees had to wrestle the two original combatants apart. At one point, they had team B's player pinned to the wall.
They then made a terrible mistake. Instead of forcing the player off the ice, they simply let him go. He then made another beeline toward Team A's player, but was tackled by other players from Team A before he could get there. Now, in addition to the referees, rink security officials were on the ice trying to sort through the mayhem.
Then, I saw what I had never seen before. The player's parents came out onto the ice to drag their son off. What amazed me was there didn't seem to be a bit of embarrassment on the player's mom's face as she took her kid to the locker room.
If that were my kid, there would be hell to pay.
Parents, remember, you are your kids' first coaches. Teach them to play, but teach them sportsmanship as well. Teach them the rules, but teach them teamwork.
I contrast this with what happened at the Ohio State High School Track Championship yesterday as well. One local sprinter was favored to win the 10o, 200, and 400-meter dashes. He won the 200 and 400, but finished second in the 100. Instead of lamenting how he missed a rare triple, he was more concerned that the loss of points would cost his TEAM the TEAM title.
His teammates come through, and they did win the title.
A just reward for putting the team first.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
D-Day Salute
Today is the 65th anniversary of the Normandy Invasion, or D-Day. On that day, Allied Forces stormed the beaches at Normandy, France to begin the assault that would eventually win World War II in Europe. The price paid was high, as evidenced by the rows of crosses in cemeteries across France.
To commemorate D-Day, many RKCs decided to do a tribute workout -- 200 snatches, interspersed with 400 meters of running. Not a difficult workout, but challenging enough, while giving you the opportunity to think about the sacrifices made on that late spring day.
I wasn't alive during World War II. My parents were just 4 and 2 years old in 1944, but I still owe a great deal to those men who fought for our freedom. (And lest we forget, those who have fought for our freedom ever since, including those in harm's way today.)
I had originally hoped to have a group of our students with me, but kids' schedules and an anniversary negated that. So I set out on my own, with my newest kettlebell student (and long time client), Whit to accompany me on the running portion of the workout.
The first 50 snatches were easy, as easy as 50 snatches can be. And the run was a nice recovery. We talked about her training plans for the summer before she heads back to school in August. We talked about my kids, who are her age, and how they are moving forward with their lives. We also talked about World War II -- an interesting conversation between two different generations who learned about it in history books.
The next set of snatches was a little slower. The callouses on my hands were pinching, as I left my chalk in the car. I suffered through it, and we took off for our second 400 meter run. Here we focused on how tough it was for those soldiers 65 years ago, and what we were doing was really nothing compared to their suffering. I think it gave both of us a sense of reality -- no matter how bad you hurt, someone hurts more.
The third set of snatches tested that theory. My callouses started to rip --and blood was seeping from my hands. (This week was a particularly high volume snatch week, and I was paying the price.) Even though each snatch was painful, I got through it knowing that veterans would laugh at the amount of pain I was feeling. After all, it really was nothing.
The last set was easy. I knew that this was it, the end was near -- a perk those soldiers didn't have on that beachhead 65 years ago.
During the last quarter mile, I asked Whit if she had another mile in her. She said she didn't think so, but she would try anyway. (I failed to mention that she had taken my kettlebell class earlier that morning.)
During the last mile, we talked perseverance, and doing what is necessary to achieve your goals. The same thing that got many through Normandy. Many did not make it, paying the ultimate price so we have the freedom to whine and complain about every little ache, pain, grocery line, traffic light, and airline delay.
I am grateful to all of those who have sacrificed for my freedom, not just on June 6, 1944, but in all battles. I am also thankful that I had the opportunity to reflect on that with the next generation of American for 32 minutes on a warm June Saturday in Ohio.
Somehow, my hands don't hurt that much anymore.
To commemorate D-Day, many RKCs decided to do a tribute workout -- 200 snatches, interspersed with 400 meters of running. Not a difficult workout, but challenging enough, while giving you the opportunity to think about the sacrifices made on that late spring day.
I wasn't alive during World War II. My parents were just 4 and 2 years old in 1944, but I still owe a great deal to those men who fought for our freedom. (And lest we forget, those who have fought for our freedom ever since, including those in harm's way today.)
I had originally hoped to have a group of our students with me, but kids' schedules and an anniversary negated that. So I set out on my own, with my newest kettlebell student (and long time client), Whit to accompany me on the running portion of the workout.
The first 50 snatches were easy, as easy as 50 snatches can be. And the run was a nice recovery. We talked about her training plans for the summer before she heads back to school in August. We talked about my kids, who are her age, and how they are moving forward with their lives. We also talked about World War II -- an interesting conversation between two different generations who learned about it in history books.
The next set of snatches was a little slower. The callouses on my hands were pinching, as I left my chalk in the car. I suffered through it, and we took off for our second 400 meter run. Here we focused on how tough it was for those soldiers 65 years ago, and what we were doing was really nothing compared to their suffering. I think it gave both of us a sense of reality -- no matter how bad you hurt, someone hurts more.
The third set of snatches tested that theory. My callouses started to rip --and blood was seeping from my hands. (This week was a particularly high volume snatch week, and I was paying the price.) Even though each snatch was painful, I got through it knowing that veterans would laugh at the amount of pain I was feeling. After all, it really was nothing.
The last set was easy. I knew that this was it, the end was near -- a perk those soldiers didn't have on that beachhead 65 years ago.
During the last quarter mile, I asked Whit if she had another mile in her. She said she didn't think so, but she would try anyway. (I failed to mention that she had taken my kettlebell class earlier that morning.)
During the last mile, we talked perseverance, and doing what is necessary to achieve your goals. The same thing that got many through Normandy. Many did not make it, paying the ultimate price so we have the freedom to whine and complain about every little ache, pain, grocery line, traffic light, and airline delay.
I am grateful to all of those who have sacrificed for my freedom, not just on June 6, 1944, but in all battles. I am also thankful that I had the opportunity to reflect on that with the next generation of American for 32 minutes on a warm June Saturday in Ohio.
Somehow, my hands don't hurt that much anymore.
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