Thoughts on Strength and Training - Part 1

The older I get the more I realize that thoughtful, goal-oriented strength training is much more simple than most people realize.

When you're 17 years old and you walk into a rusty weight room with abused equipment from the 1970's (the year was 1996) everything works. Every stupid exercise you saw in a magazine and tried made you stronger, better, faster, whatever.  And after a while you begin to think you need those exercises. But as a person's training age advances the little dumbbell exercises and isolation movements that used to pack on the strength, and muscle are reduced to physical therapy exercises and warm up movements to keep you healthy for what really matters - Picking up as heavy a barbell as possible, the measure of strength.

My buddy Roberts and I have a lot of good talks on strength.  A long while back, after not bench pressing for about two years (partly because of strongman, partly from a shoulder injury) I decided to bench press one day. I pressed a relatively easy 315 after not touching the lift in 2 years (and I'm a terrible bench presser). I got to talking to Roberts about it, and how surprised I was be able to do it. I remember he said "you can pick up over 600lbs. off the floor, of course you can bench press 315..." He was right, if your absolute strength is high enough, you will find yourself capable in a number of tasks.

For a competitive strength athlete, at some point, absolute strength becomes the only goal.

Mark Rippetoe posted a great article this week that really got me thinking about all this. Especially how barbell training elicits a "systemic change" rather than an isolated improvement of a specific body part. The article is a must read really.

Everyone thinks strength is so hard, complex, and only attained through discovering that secret exercise to propel your muscle mass and power through the roof.  People scour internet forums, articles, and (Heaven forbid) bodybuilding magazines for it as though it were the lost city of Atlantis, but the whole time it is starring them in the face.

Folks listen to me - strength, real strength is attained through the long term practice and programming of the basic compound barbell movements; The Squat, The Press (both bench and overhead), and The Deadlift. (Or if you like, the clean and jerk and the snatch, but get a good coach for that.)

There it is, that is the Holy Grail of strength, some iron discs on a steel shaft.

Now practice these three movement at least once per week, heavy and to exhaustion, for 8-10 years and I guarantee strength will arrive at your doorstep.

Notice I said strength- not tight buns, ripped abs, or the body of a fitness model. Lots of other variables have to be manipulated to get you there if that's your goal. But right here, right now we are talking about strength.

If you keep your diet in check will you look good on the beach, or in a fitted t-shirt? Probably, but we are talking strength.

I have made the conscious choice to have a few fat rolls and test the limit of what I can move. I'm ok with that, my goal isn't vanity. We are talking about strength.

I sometimes marvel at the training blog of Strongman friend of mine, Brad Stanford. I take lessons from him, he's been lifting since I was in elementary school.  He squats, he deadlifts, and he presses, then he spends a little time on the treadmill...  He knocking on 42 years old and is easily one of the strongest men I know personally. I read his training log and think, that's it?... Yes, That's it.

He ain't so bad for a Bama fan

He keeps the main thing the main thing. Take a lesson, I've taken many.

So on Friday I pulled some heavy rack pulls and made sure my last set was a real booger, then I went on a walk with the family.  On Saturday everything from my shoulders to my calves was sore.  That training session was 5 sets, it took less than 30 minutes to complete the workout, I'm still feeling it, systemic change.

I learn these lessons weekly. Hey, just because I know what the Holy Grail is doesn't mean I follow it.

I'll spend part 2 discussing some more thoughts on accessory movements, and the other side of the coin. But if it's strength you're after, it's as simple as a barbell and 3 movements. Does it sound boring, yeah, but when you're in your 40's and someone looks at your training log, they'll wonder if you're part grizzly bear...

From my training log - Day 314

No training today, still recovering, but here is today's highlights.

The morning started early at Storybook Farm, watching my oldest ride her pony, Corduroy. Many thanks to that great ministry and the joy they have brought to Rebekah. She got a blue ribbon for her good riding and I don't know that I've ever seen a child be so proud of anything in their life.

Rebekah and Corduroy

Then breakfast at Cracker Barrel.

Then it was back home and a trip to campus to walk around and enjoy the Auburn A-Day atmosphere, boy was it crowded.

Me and the Girls at The Auburn Arena 

I skipped the game and came home and took a nap. Then we all got ready and went up to Toomer's Corner for the last roll...

You know, it was great, we sent those landmark trees out with a bang. I freely want to admit to you that it breaks my heart a little.  My granddaddy Cleland stood by those trees and hitchhiked from school back home. I've spent many a night there myself in celebration.

I'm pretty sad that it had to end at the hands of Harvey Updyke, and I'll tell you that I don't really enjoy college football as much as I did before this whole tree poisoning thing happened. I look at it through a different lens now.  It's value is greatly diminished... Maybe that's a good thing.

One thing is for sure. You can count your life as a monumental failure if  let it be defined only by your allegiance to a sports team... Just look at Mr. Updyke...

But if your like me and your heart is a little heavy, or your sad, or you've been knocked down a few times... I suggest that on the next sunny Saturday afternoon you grab a roll of toilet paper, meet up with your family, and celebrate the memories of a life well lived. It may just prove to be good medicine for body and soul, and it may help brings things into focus, and lend a little joyful perspective on the trials of life... Oh, and wear a smile... Nothing bugs a rival team more than if you smile... :-)

War Eagle.

I Remember (Easter and Fatherhood Eve Revisited)

I live on the verge of tears around Easter. It always will coincide with the the anniversary of the adoption of our first daughter, Rebekah. I'm tearful because I remember it all....

I remember when I was a boy, maybe 12 or less, watching a special on 20/20 or one of those programs about a couple adopting a little girl from Russia.  She was probably about 9 or so. The adoptive parents had returned to Russia to finally bring the little girl home. The cameras were rolling when they brought the little girl out.  I remember when she saw her new parents waiting for her, she burst into tears and said "They told me you were coming back for me, I didn't believe them, but you came back, you came back for me!"...  I suppose I will never ever forget hearing those words...  I still remember...

I remember meeting Rebekah in Astrakhan, Russia in December of 2009, I remember saying goodbye the first time...  I picked up a pale frightened little girl while muttering the words of Jesus Himself  "I go to prepare a place for you"... It was the only thing I knew to say...  I remember the orphanage worker taking her by the hand and leading her back down the long dark hall, I remember how she turned and looked back at Allison and I curiously wondering who in the world we were.

Rebekah and her favorite caregiver at the orphanage
in Astrakhan, Russia

I remember a few months later being back in Russia to bring her home, sitting down and composing these words on Easter and Fatherhood Eve.

"When we left from that first trip, we left a small picture album, with pictures of Allison and I, and Family, and even Gracie the hound with Rebekah. We wanted her new home to at least be familiar to her in picture. We were told when we came back this trip that it had become her favorite thing. That she would sit in the corner and look at it again and again and again. Allison and I fought back the tears on the playground that day, I have never been filled with more love and heartbreak than I was that day. Oh how I wanted to pick her up and tell her “precious girl, if you only knew...” Little does she know that with those pictures she is merely looking at a mirror dimly, but soon she shall see it all face to face. It will be real, the past will be gone, and she will receive a new life. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

And now Allison and I stand together, holding onto each other and a Resurrected Savior. I am fearless about tomorrow, it will be hard, but in the end we will see the Glory of God unfold in the life of this beautiful little girl.

So, this Easter is special, we will celebrate Christ’s resurrection today, and in a practical way we will celebrate it tomorrow as well. Rebekah will leave everything behind, and we will dress her in new clothes and finally we will step, as a family, beyond those rusty iron gates forever.

Rebekah Grace Boman will walk out of an orphanage tomorrow, because Jesus Christ walked out of a tomb today."

That was three years ago... I remember right where I was sitting when I wrote those words... I remember.

First Beach trip 2010

I remember when Rebekah saw the beach for the first time. She laughed and ran and played with more joy than I thought I child was capable of expressing. There we were, a family, standing knee deep on the shores of the ocean we crossed to bring her home...  My God, how I do remember...


I remember our first Christmas together and all of them since...

I remember playing, swinging, swimming and hearing 'I love you' for the first time...  I remember drinking deeply from the well of life, and then going back for seconds...  I remember...

Our Annual trip to the beach 2012

Rebekah's first Auburn football game 2012

I remember how scared I was, of fatherhood, the unknown, and our desperate condition a million miles from home. I remember singing Rich Mullins words to myself a thousand times again, "Hold Me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf, you have been King of My Glory, won't you be my Prince of Peace".  I still sing those words in my head when doubts and fears assail me...

I remember wondering what life would look like in the years to come...  In my wildest imagination I could not have dreamed that it could be so completely saturated in this rich a joy. I remember a road fraught with trial, but I also remember that intentional and sacrificial love has washed over a multitude of things.

I remember just a few weeks ago when Russia closed it's doors to international adoptions, it makes it hard for me to breathe just thinking about it... I remember their little faces... Oh, how I do remember...

I remember when we stepped off the elevator a month ago with our newest adopted daughter, Ruthie.  Rebekah's reaction upon meeting her was the most jubilant and joyful of all... Maybe because deep down somewhere, she knows what's at stake...

My Family

I remember on Easter...  I remember the death, burial, and The Resurrection of Our Savior, that we might receive the adoption as Sons and Daughters. I remember that we adopted, because we have been adopted by God...

I will always remember that if ever I am asked for proof of Christ and His Resurrection. I will only need to point to the girl the world forgot, but whom God remembered, and who's very life is a testimony to His miraculous healing power, and I'll remember to say, on the verge of tears, "Right there, right there is your proof..."

I remember...

“Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me. ² In My Father’s house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. ³ If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also."- John 14:1-3

Strongman Eve

I hate Winter, specifically January and February.  I hate those two months as much as any warm blooded southern man could.  So, I'm going to start a couple of new holidays called "Strongman Eve" and "Strongman New Year" to celebrate the end of the very worst months of the calendar. 

From here on out "Strongman Eve" will be the last day of February and "Strongman New Year" will be the first day of March. 

Why do I hate January and February you ask? Ok I'll tell you.

Let's begin with January.  Christmas is over and the socks and underwear you got don't fit as well as you had hoped... It is generally too cold to do anything enjoyable in the form of outdoor recreation and the only thing there is to celebrate is the fact that you have managed to reach a new wrist-slitting low in post holiday depression thanks to a severe lack of sunlight and vitamin D.  And generally by the time you work up a healthy motivation to train and get serious under the bar you come down with strep throat or an upper respiratory infection or the flu, and you find yourself starring in the bathroom mirror between vomitous outbursts questioning everything about your life and wishing the broken capillaries around your eyes were made from a personal best deadlift rather than the rocking ab workout you just got wretching everything you've eaten since thanksgiving into the commode (oatmeal when I'm sick, great choice). Oh, and don't forget the pus pockets on the sides of your throat . Happy January! Hope that 103°F fever is treating you well let me know when the hallucinations start!

Then, when your broken, beat down, rented mule of a will power has left all your New Year's Resolutions in the trash can, along comes February to pour a little salt in the wound. 

February is just January's older unemployed, emo, drug addict brother who's only job is to make sure your life is a comedy of errors and your every effort to obtain a goal is sabotaged. Your knees and low back hurt with such chronic agony you find yourself grinding 135lb. squats in your warmups. Oh, And there's more good news... it's raining (at least in my part of the world, how do you snow people do it?) every day... all the time... no matter where you go, even inside a little...  Now every effort to do anything in the comfort of dry warm clothing has been utterly abolished and your feet are perpetually damp as you change into your lifting shoes for your next set of push presses with 115lbs. because you hurt your shoulder in January bracing yourself over the toilet while you were vomiting...

Oh! And all that sinus drainage? Yeah.... It's in your chest now... And by about rep five on a set of anything you are wheezing like you've been double fisting cigarettes since you started kindergarten. Woo Hoo! Where's my inhaler?  

And the sun never shines, and there is no good television, and all you want is the ocean, a sunburn and some fried shrimp...  So that is February.  It's one big coffee spill on the white dress shirt that is the calendar year...

But now they're over.

And the "Strongman New Year" is beginning.  Spring break, sunlight, vitamin D, green grass, and everything you love about training.  Will it still be cold? Yes. But is there hope for the outdoor bound strength seeker in March? You bet. And it's only going to get better...

Magnus Ver Magnusson going over the rules tonight before the Arnold Strongman Classic tomorrow
photo courtesy of Arnold Strongman on Twitter

I don't know, maybe I'm just excited about the Arnold Strongman Classic starting tomorrow, or maybe it's my Alabama pride after watching Ray "Cornbread and Buttermilk" Williams break National records in his second powerlifting meet of his life... But there is something in the air today, and it smells like sweat, 45lb. plates and chalk.  

So I'm calling it. The new year for strength athletes is March 1st.  Happy Strongman Eve everyone...