A Stronger Industry

The fitness industry needs to pull its head out of its ass. Did I get your attention? Excellent.

Now, I will be the first to say that this can be one of the most gracious and supportive professional communities going. I’m talking about the side of the industry that opened its arms to me in a way that helped me get up to speed on the “state of the art” in about a year-and-a-half.

Along with my own study of important books (Anatomy Trains, Netter’s, everything Pavel), the meat of my learning was made up of the incredibly rich websites of Tony, Eric, Bret, Dan, Wil, KStar and his project, Dr. Berardi, Dean, ToddShon, T-Nation (useful, despite its ridiculous pictures and jokes), Mike, Dan, all the incredible ladies out of Girls Gone Strong and a dozen others that fit in around the edges.

I feel beyond grateful for what these people--most of whom I will never meet--gave me, willingly and for free. The intention obvious in those folks’ collective gesture is to pay forward your knowledge so that we might all prosper. You won’t catch me badmouthing that for a second.

But what I’m talking about is how most trainers, even as they draw from the same excellent body of knowledge, screw up the moment of integration with the rest of the world. The vast majority of people, the so-called general population (gen-pop for short), that the vast majority of trainers see deserve better.

I think the problem is three-fold:

- Industry folks are skewed by their own passion! Weird, I know.

- Fitness sees itself as the center of the universe. Understandable, but still not cool.

- The industry buys into, and therefore sells itself as, a luxurious habit that each of us should pay for. Fuck that.

So first, I think the very thing that makes so many trainers charismatic, motivated and useful to their clients alienates them from a huge number of people. Someone who thinks about and lives for fitness, their own and other people’s, every day will have a hard time understanding the situation that most non-trainers are in, almost just by definition.

Obviously, being an expert is important, and that should involve serious immersion. But if you’re committed to making this person’s life better, a significant amount of effort must also be paid toward how your ideal programming is going to interact with that client. Can they execute? Will the habit stick? Will they like it? Why or why not? That shouldn't be the only dictating influence by any means, but it should be part of our planning!  Humans are not just a bunch of blood and collagen and levers.

But the part that really gets missed, and that spurned this post in the first place, is the critical moment when a trainer has learned enough. They have studied and worked long enough to know more than their clients--they have achieved the minimum. At this point, most trainers take one of two paths. 1.) They stop studying, and become annoying lumps on the log of fitness-industry-wastefulness, or 2.) they keep studying, but about the finest minutae of percentages and accommodating resistance and optimal timing of supplementation L-carnitine.

For maybe 10% of the whole population of gen-pop, this second group has something extra to offer in terms of knowledge. But for everyone else (9 out of 10 people), those little bits of knowledge are useless--but in the hands of Eager-Trainer McSmartypants they become dangerous tools of distraction, leading folks away from what is most important.

Many, many people have written about this using terminology taken from the field of economics. I’m talking about the Pareto Principle, here, which states, roughly, that 80% of the effects come from 20% of the causes. Now, while most days you’d hear me rambling about that 20% group of causes (the “big rocks”: squatting, deadlifting, pressing, etc.), I think it’s also important to remember that there is a flip-side to Pareto.

Another way of saying the principle is that there is a segment of causes (80%) that contribute only 20% of the effects. That means, if you keep looking for effects after working hard on those “big rocks,” you are now in fine-tuning territory. And if you are a competitive athlete, or a professional model, or military special forces, than you should be working on the minutae.

But what happens too often is that a trainer, fashioning themselves to be athletes, begins thinking and reading about those “little rocks,” and is excited at the possibility of extracting that final 20% of effects out of their bodies. And then they bring those ideas straight to their clients who have never touched a barbell, let alone flung said barbell overhead 2.78 times per minute.

This sort of dysfunction very easily morphs into my second point: the fitness industry is self-centered. While many of the passionate, intelligent trainers and coaches out there are doing their best to help, even the best ones seem to forget that many folks who train don’t want to become the world’s strongest woman or sexiest man. Usually, these folks merely want to be healthier--they want to feel better, and keep up with their grandkids, and maybe slim down a few pounds.

This is not to say that Strength & Conditioning can’t help them--in fact, I would say just the opposite. But those people invest a lot of time and energy into their own field or career, and we as fitness professionals should respect that. We should respect it by training them in them most efficient and effective way that we know--with the “big rocks”--and leave “little rocks” (the 80%, the minutae, etc.) on the shelf. And we should respect it by working to fit that great training into their lives, and not demand that it is the other way around.

I can hear the salient disagreement now: most gen-pop folks just plain don't put enough stock in their own health! And it’s true that most of the time we as trainers are trying to convince people to take their wellness more seriously, by eating better and sleeping more and lifting heavy shit on a regular basis. But along with that convincing is a mega-dose of selling.

And this brings me to my final point. The way I see it, we can’t as an industry keep saying that fitness is an integral part of any life and then sell training and gyms generally as a luxury item. It is disingenuous, and ultimately destructive to the premise that would really help people get to where they are trying to go with their fitness. It recalls for me many conversations I have had with manual therapists about the fractured way that massage operates today: clients come for a massage because they see it as a luxury, feel-good session, and therapists feel compelled to give that session. In reality, though, a more effective approach would almost always be less-comfortable--and the client would leave unsatisfied. This is broken.

But of course, revenue is important in this capitalist society. However, back to fitness, I have to believe that money will flow when previously unsatisfied individuals are getting trained in a satisfying way. Being effective (“big rocks”) is one part of creating this flow, obviously, but so is being honest, and portraying fitness as a luxury expense destroys that honesty.

I love this industry, and I think that it offers a way for everyone involved to get ahead: clients improve, trainers make a living, and collective knowledge carries everyone forward. But unless we also work on making the system better in it’s integration with the rest of the world, we will always be stuck either preaching to the choir or deluging the public with big-font marketing. Let’s make fitness something more real than that.  

10,000 swings.

It's funny that up until now, this blog has been a travel log, mostly because I started it with much grander aspirations.  What I want the blog to be "about" is a more important nugget to write on that will get done soon.  Not to say that writing about a trans-continental trip is somehow unimportant, but such a topic is pretty comitted to the experience, rather than the lessons learned, in a way that I would like to transition away from, somewhat.  I would hope to write more about things that might be directly useful. So, first up in this new vein is exploring the 10,000 kettlebell swing challenge that I set up for myself when I left on said trip. It was a sort of guiding force, giving me a semblance of normalcy even as the landscape changed so quickly. While I wasn’t able to get it done before getting to Oakland I did finish, yesterday. I’m glad I did it, and it was definitely edifying thrash against a challenge like that. But boy am I glad to be done.

I first heard about doing 10,000 swings in a somewhat constrained time-frame from the singular Dan John, who often comes up with those sort of excellent ideas that cozy right up to crazy ones. What I love is that usually what he says seems totally common sense and totally ridiculous, at the same time. This time, he chased down the “do as I say and not as I do” paradigm and tackled it to the ground. For all the times we as trainers praise the kettlebell, listing its singular benefits, he said, much of the time we don’t make good in our training. What if we did?

Sure enough, after doing a ridiculous number of swings (and some other things, which I will get to) I feel mostly great, in all the ways that I would’ve outlined to my clients had I recommended they try it (and not everyone should!). My posture feels better, my legs and core (god I hate that word) feel strong, I flat out can’t get winded without sprinting uphill, and I’m not suffering at all after sitting in a car for the literal 75 hours of driving that my trip demanded. Score!

While the math worked out to about 350 swings a day, that meant zero rest days, and took zero account of other physical things I might do. With my one 24k kettlebell straining my grip after even the first hundred in a set, I figured out pretty quick that days off were crucial (duh!), as was exploring various ways of breaking the daily totals up. For example, DJ utilized a 50-25-15-10 arrangement (totaling 100), in which one would wait for their heart-rate to chill out between micro-sets (e.g. after the 50, 25, etc). I tried all different arrangements, and just waited for my heart to catch in between.

As for the breaking up the whole sets (between 100’s of swings), DJ totally went Easy Strength on that one, I presume, basically doing them as they felt good, and resting as needed. As my workouts mostly had to be accomplished in a single session during my trip, I would do a prescribed number of swings (80-120) broken into micro-sets, superset a pressing variation, and then just loop. While I started with ~350-swing daily totals, this last week (when I was trying to get the damn thing done) I did 700, 800, and 1100 in a day.

This was not usually very enjoyable (har har). While my hips never barked much, and any residual soreness was mostly pleasant, my damn forearms were always a weak-link. I am not a Popeye type for damn sure, but it’s not as if I have never trained my grip either (2x bodyweight deadlifts?). Grip issues, as well as related skin/callousing details (very sexy), were by far the most annoying part of the whole experience.

As for the pressing, switching up the variations helped a lot both physically and as a super-setted relief for my hands/arms. I only did three different exercises (single-arm military presses, turkish get-ups, and feet-elevated pushups), but it was enough to balance all that whole-body pulling (the swings). Throughout, the workouts felt like a turn away from strength as a goal (which was definitely disconcerting, except for the military presses), but the resulting work-capacity gains will round me out in a productive way, I hope. And the mental break from grinding out heavy singles, doubles and triples was more welcome than I realized before setting out.

When I first read about the idea, other than being struck by its simplicity and suited-ness for my gym-less status en route across ‘Merica, I liked the monumental feel to that number. 10,000 is a lot of anything. It’s something that can’t just be stuffed in that black hole of instant-gratification, even if a month is just a flash in the pan of life. It’s also a number to respect, a number that humbles and grounds you--try handing someone $10k cash sometime--and a number that gives perspective about what it is to challenge yourself. And it’s a nice counterpoint to the more instinctive, park-bench workouts I do most of the year (its own blog topic).  Honestly, the sheer repetition became  meditative, too, and it allowed me the chance to become intimate with the tiny details of the movement, without being too conscious.

If anyone wants more information, or guidance to attack your own challenge, please be in touch. It doesn’t need to be 10,000, and it doesn’t even need to be swings. But it needs to be simple, focused, balanced, and realistic, with just a little brutality thrown in for hair-on-your-non-gender-specific-chest reasons. And it definitely needs to be programmed appropriately in terms of your normal activity.

Lastly, the idea of returning to training normalcy feels just right. For me, that will mean a very loose monthly plan of movements that are not a hinge (like the swings), focusing on strength and power, but with wiggle room for whatever might come up. In a word, back to the park-bench for me!