Survival of the Fittest

As the famed (and eminently quotable) football coach Lou Holtz once said, “When all is said and done, more is said than done.”

Too true, Lou. Sometimes I feel like all I do is think, talk and write about fitness.

But for the past week and a half, even amid more-confluent-than-usual edit deadlines and general busyness, I made my own fitness a priority.

So yeah, I’m “just doing it.” On my way again, official training program in hand. Knock on wood, but I think I’ve gone from a loooong, slow ramp-up to being excited to work out hard again, often. And that feels really satisfying.

What I wasn’t quite prepared for, however, was the disgust I would feel with the current state of my body. And trust me, I know that’s not at all where I should be coming from — I’m chanting every feel-good mantra I can think of, namely, “Start where I am, start where I am, start where I am.” But I was horrified the other night when I replaced my first set’s squat weight in favor of something a bit more … petite.

What I said aloud was, “Totally fine, probably a blessing in disguise. I can start from the ground up and work on perfect form.” What I said inside was, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaah! I’d already started out with less weight than I used to warm up with!”

During cardio, I felt like I wasn’t entirely in charge of my own body. Or, more accurately, that I wasn’t in charge of my own body in its entirety. Every so often, I would feel … not exactly a jiggle, but perhaps a little wiggle. Whatever it was, it was definitely other, and I couldn’t help but be horrified.

I recall the intimidation of the starting point from other times I’ve reintroduced my bod to a regular fitness regimen after a break, and a month from now, I know I’ll be in a healthier place — physically and emotionally.

But it’s all about how to get to a month from now, isn’t it? Avoiding the essentially pessimistic “back in the day” mindset, a la Al Bundy (pictured above). Figuring out how to make fitness, in some form, a nonnegotiable part of your daily routine.

Sometimes it may take an additional boost to avoid a backslide. And sometimes, just sometimes, you have to get that boost on the cheap.

Last week, Experience Life’s associate editor, Kaeti, asked me for some help researching how those with specific fitness goals are more apt to succeed than those who work out with less direction.

In compiling a few leads, I came across the article “20 Ways to Stick to Your Workout” by Men’s Health features editor Adam Campbell.

While I found myself nodding along to his suggestions about signing up for a race and switching up workout partners, something about the twisted No. 20, “Blackmail Yourself,” also struck a chord. It says:

Take a picture of yourself shirtless, holding a sign that shows your e-mail address. Then e-mail it to a trusted but sadistic friend, with the following instructions: “If I don’t send you a new picture that shows serious improvement in 12 weeks, post this photo at hotornot.com and send the link to the addresses listed below….” (Include as many e-mail addresses — especially of female acquaintances — as possible.) “It’s nasty, but extremely effective,” says Alwyn Cosgrove.

Now, I’m not condoning this as a long-term motivation strategy — using punishment and extrinsic motivators works directly against Experience Life’s “happy, healthy, for-real” message.

I’m not even condoning trying this as a short-term motivator. I’m just saying it’s an intriguing — if rather perverse — suggestion, and for me, even the idea of laying it out there so boldly could provide a kick in the pants, should I need it.

So maybe, to give my motivation zero wiggle-room, I’ll threaten myself with sending that email.

Naturally, Valentine’s Day led me to thoughts of sugar. In particular, the heavenly cupcakes from Brown Betty Dessert Boutique, which made an all-too-brief appearance in my household for the holiday.

But the occasion stirred up something else — a sweet, sweet memory of something my childhood gymnastics teacher called the “sugar bowl.” (Also called a “king cobra” in yoga.)

Essentially, you lie on your front, palms on the floor near your ribs, and slowly arch your head and body backward, using your hands for support. You then bend both legs at the knee and touch your toes (or heels, even) to the top of your head. Presto, change-o, you become a sugar bowl.

And I used to be able to do that! Out of curiosity, I tried to recreate the experience this morning, and was instead left with a bad taste in my mouth.

All that remains of my sugar-bowling skills are the ability to look upward and the ability to bend my legs. Not very impressive. The length of my body from knee to shoulder, on the other hand, will only agree to a gentle curve. A very gentle curve. My head and feet remain worlds apart.

What in the world happened?! While I’m sure tight hip flexors play a role, I have a hunch the main problem is that my thoracic spine has become immobile.

Thoracic immobility in athletes is a topic I’ve been pondering for a few months, ever since I read two articles on the topic by Michael Boyle, founder of www.strengthcoach.com. The articles, located at T-Nation, are called “A Joint-by-Joint Approach to Training” and “The Essential 8 Mobility Drills.” (Disclaimer: The accompanying ads and graphics are kinda racy. Don’t click if you don’t want to see.)

Boyle, a high-profile performance expert and oft-quoted Experience Life source, explains that some joints need stability (like knees, shoulders and the lumbar spine), while others need mobility (think hips, ankles and the thoracic spine) to function optimally. And that if one of these joints isn’t as stable — or mobile — as it should be, it can send pain and injury up or down the chain to its neighboring joint.

In other words, an immobile thoracic spine may be to blame for pain in your upper or lower back. (Um, check and check.)

Fitness expert Bill Hartman has blogged on the topic, as well. He blames poor thoracic spine mobility for slouchy posture, impinged rotator cuffs and impaired scapular movement (Hartman recommended several scapular-correcting exercises in EL’s November 2007 article “Balance Your Blades”).

But there is hope, says Boyle, and the single best exercise you can do to increase thoracic mobility is a piece of cake. Since, as Boyle says, when it comes to thoracic mobility, “almost no one has enough, and it’s hard to get too much,” you can do it every day.

First, duct tape two tennis balls tightly together (I found two hardly battered tennis balls in the dog-toy bin — score!) and place them on the floor. You’re going to do a series of crunches on top of these bad boys, beginning with them positioned at the bottom of your rib cage and ending just above your shoulder blades.

Do five crunches at each level, and slide down about a half a roll of the ball after each set. Keep reaching forward with your arms at a 45-degree angle from the floor, and return your head to the floor after every crunch (that part is hard to remember to do). Stay away from the cervical and lumbar spine — you only want to mobilize the thoracic region of your spine.

For a video of this thoracic-mobility crunch in action, click here.

I’ve done two sets so far today, and I think I’m hooked. I can feel parts of my spine flexing in ways it probably hasn’t since my childhood gymnastics days, and while not super comfortable just yet, the exercise is satisfying in the same way foam rolling is — I sense I’m doing something good for my body for the longer term. I may never do another sugar bowl, but better posture and less back pain would be plenty sweet enough.

A couple weeks ago, I received an email from a rugby coach encouraging players to keep up with their winter workouts. Included in the email was a link to the New York Times’ January 17, 2008, article “Too Cold to Exercise? Try Another Excuse,” by Gina Kolata — which, as the title suggests, blasts that excuse right out of the icy water.

Turns out it’s not the cold that’ll getcha — it’s the dry air.

I can’t say I find this information particularly surprising. I recall running a particularly brutal 400-meter race at a high school indoor track meet in Lamoni, Ia. The dreaded (by me) 400 already didn’t need much of a boost to get from really hard to practically unbearable, and the dome that shielded us from the elements — and any semblance of moisture in the air — made my efforts anything but a breeze.

When braving the dry, Kolata suggests using a balaclava, or ski mask, to shield your mouth and recycle some of the moisture you exhale, keeping your airway open. In addition, I suggest chewing a piece of gum to shield yourself from your own morning breath.

Another piece of cold-weather-workout equipment I’m lately enamored with is the Burton headphone beanie. I first saw it in Experience Life’s product department, Equipped, in the January/February 2007 issue, and upon first sight was gripped with a feverish bout of must-own-that-immediately consumerism. (This is why I try to avoid reading Equipped most months; I simply can’t afford to.)

I haven’t yet found a pair of ear buds that will stay put in my possibly misshapen(?) ears, so the headphone beanie is a nice alternative to headband-style headphones, which can sometimes get tangled in my mop.

But a word to the wise: Might want to avoid popping into a convenience store for a hard-earned recovery drink afterward wearing these two articles of clothing together.

Work Out cast members I spotted during the pull-up shoot last Thursday:

and

Work Out cast members I had the nerve to ask for a picture with:

Exactly.

Bright-n-early tomorrow morning — well, early, anyway — I’m heading to Sky Sport gym in Beverly Hills to assist on a photo shoot for an upcoming article on learning to do a pull-up. Or, better yet, many pull-ups. (Sky Sport also happens to be where Bravo’s reality show Work Out is filmed, so you’d better believe I’ll be on reality-TV-star watch.)

The article is slated for publication in the May issue of Experience Life, and it’s one I’m really excited about. Pull-ups are one of the very best indicators of strength-to-body-weight ratio (also known as “relative strength”), and I hear too many women say they could never do one. Horse hockey. Or pucky. Or whatever.

My friend Stubot has agreed to take on what the two of us have dubbed the Pull-Up Challenge. (I offered to use only her initials in this post to afford her at least pseudo-anonymity, but her response was, “I want the glory.” I remain unconvinced there’s much glory to be had, but there it is. Bask away.)

The deal is, I’m going to send her the exercise progression from the article now, and she’s going to embark on a mission to crank out her first-ever pull-up. She may even invest in a Door Gym. Worth every penny, in my book.

So. Please join me in wishing Stubot luck, and once the article is online, let me know if you decide to give the progression a try yourself. I’d love to hear how it goes.

(Photo credit: AP)

To be honest, I didn’t watch much of the Super Bowl last night. I was otherwise occupied frantically plowing through two weeks’ worth of laundry and packing for a business trip that includes time spent in both Minnesota and California. Still, I feel ashamed.

The only stretch of the game I watched uninterrupted were those last 46 seconds, when New England Patriots’ quarterback Tom Brady heaved a couple of desperate long bombs toward receiver Randy Moss. After witnessing those final, cling-to-the-armrest-suspenseful moments, I’m not sure my heart could have taken much more anyway.

While I’m not a huge fan of football — mainly because it just doesn’t occur to me to watch it — like my fellow EL senior editor Laine, I am a huge fan of perfection, so I had hoped the Patriots’ record would remain unmarred.

End result aside, I was moved by the tremendous effort Moss made to get open for his QB, and by the simple way Brady summed up his teammate’s efforts in today’s New York Times: “He ran so hard the whole game.”

Not only that, but as the last seconds ticked away, he still ran so dang fast, pulling away from his defenders with apparent ease. Pulling away, even, from the pass, which just could not get to where Moss was going.

But then, the gleam of speed is one of my favorite aspects of almost every sport. It’s always been that way in my family; my younger brother excelled at the facets of sport that required skill and patience, as did my mother, while my father and I ruled the raw end.

But is speed really hereditary? And how much can you do to get faster?

A couple years ago, I wrote an article on the topic of fast- and slow-twitch muscle fibers for Experience Life called “The Fast and Slow of It”, and although I recall the topic being much more complicated than we had space for, the case is essentially this: Most of us are born with a fairly even mix of fast- and slow-twitch muscle fibers, which means our talents regarding speed or endurance are determined mainly by the way we train.

Which is to say, maybe I just chased more butterflies than my little bro. But that chasing pays off, in terms of developing speed.

Last night’s game reminded me not to overlook the importance of adding in a little bit of speed training, even during the start-over stages of fitness I’m in now. As I think back on speed testing I’ve done at rugby tryouts over the years, my 40-meter-dash scores have certainly reflected how I’ve been training (or not), so I may as well start off on the right foot.

In a cursory mine of a bajillion speed-training results from various sources, including my favorite fitness site, Peak Performance, it seems much of the focus is on plyometrics (see basics here), overspeed training (and here), Olympic lifting (click me), and increasing stride length and/or rate.

So the goal, for me, will be to get back into shape gradually … but not necessarily slowly.

Thanks to an oh-so-brief kettlebell workout yesterday morning, I’m feeling a little more fatal than fatale today. (I knew that was going to happen!)

Luckily, I have The Stick (pictured above) and my trusty foam roller handy to break up the mess in my muscles.

These myofascial-release tools are useful even when I’m not sore — actually, especially then, because it’s easier to distinguish “hot spots” (especially tight or knotted tissue) from general tenderness.

They do inflict some degree of pain during use, though. Especially to my piriformis and ilitotibial (IT) bands.

But it’s worth it. This guy knows what I’m sayin’.

To get the scoop on a range of myofascial-release techniques, see “Deep Release,” available in the July/August 2007 EL archives, and “On a Roll,” from the November 2007 issue.

You know who else uses foam rollers? Ninjas, apparently.