Twenty Thousand Reps Under the Bar: A Journey into CrossFit

The adventurers in Jules Verne’s science fiction classic hunted a giant narwhal across the sea and after a battle of ship and sea beast three men survive after being taken into the belly of the Nautilus. There they discover that it is actually a leviathan submarine piloted by an eccentric genius, Captain Nemo. The narrator, Professor Aronnax, an expert French marine biologist embraces his capture and learns to enjoy the odd Captain, along with his submarine. However, Ned Land, a Canadian harpoonist who was also captured with Aronnax is consumed by a desire to escape. 

Our current fitness community, especially the strength and conditioning population, are much like the master harpoonist Ned Land.  They see the beast that is CrossFit and hunt it, to unknown lengths, until the creature’s demise; ideally drowning in a sea of its own sweat, blood, chalk, and bound by leagues of Rock Tape. They hunt the beast because they fear it. They fear it because they do not understand it, and they do not understand it because it is different.

This is not about the story of Ned Land. That story is well known across the seven seas. Most recently, Land’s horrific encounters with rhabdomyolysis (1) has caused turmoil across all things fitness related. However, therein lays the problem- on the surface everything is a leviathan to a master harpoonist. This story is about Professor Aronnax, and much like him my understanding of CrossFit was known from a perspective above the surface- in fact, much like Ned Land; I hunted that leviathan for leagues and years. But now, once aboard the Nautilus and after befriending its captain, I have become like Aronnax.

My perspective has changed. I have embraced the beast known as CrossFit. Not because it is less of a monster…

But because I understand it better.

A few years ago I started lifting, and then I started learning about it. Once I started learning about training, I started to apply what I learned to my own efforts. Since that day I now have a number of certifications, a small amount of competition experience, a few records, and daily emails asking for training advice.

That’s how my journey began as a marine biologist, or rather, a “coach.” After wrapping up the last of a certificate package in March I knew it was time to apply this knowledge in the field. It was time to venture out into the sea and test the skills I have studied and experimented on myself, and a few others, against the masses. Unbeknownst to me the Nautilus had room aboard and like any great scientist I saw the danger and taboo culture it permeates as oddly appealing and exciting.

And after some consideration, I decided that I should not fear the beast, instead I should learn it. Initially my mindset was that with luck the mantra “know your enemy” would prevail. Whether it is Stockholm syndrome or genuine appreciation, my mindset has changed.

From day one I was brought aboard warmly. The community immediately saw value in my past efforts and knowledge as a powerlifter. They asked questions and were intrigued as to why I did not CrossFit. I explained my focus as an athlete and the community by and large accepted it. Already the stigma of being populated entirely by vain and narcissistic know-nothings was dispelled. I saw that they accepted foreigners and yearned for their knowledge; if not to only understand it, but to also apply it to their own lives.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months.

Unlike Professor Aronnax I could surface at any time. Once there I could look upon the Nautilus beneath the rippling tides and again be reminded of the horrifying nature which exists in any beast. Also on the surface I could stand perched atop the Nautilus and see land, and those walking upon it, for what it, and they, really are.

Different kinds of beasts. Still carrying with them an instinctual horrifying nature.

Since April I have been “coaching” at a CrossFit gym. I put coach in quotations because I still feel tied to my old life and revere the word with honor and respect. Yet I am beginning to realize the silliness in those feelings as there is a litany of people unassociated with CrossFit, or even athletics, who rightly use the word as a title. Fundamentally coaches are individuals who teach and train others how to do something and whether or not someone agrees with CrossFit, that’s exactly what they are doing. Fighting against the title “Coach” is a battle my old self is losing. As the members aboard the Nautilus get stronger and faster through my instruction it is apparent that I am coaching them towards improved abilities.

This does not mean I liken myself to Dan John or Chad Wesley Smith.

Judith Sheindlin is the rightful owner of her title, Judge. She is not claiming to be Antonin Scalia.

As I continued my journey, escorted by my own Captain Nemo, I learned the ways and whys of CrossFit. There were workouts where I questioned the reasoning. Why squat, box jump, and run against the clock? Why do you move this like that? Why reps, time, weight, etcetera? Often the answer could be summed up as, “because we can.”

Ah ha! At last, an unscientific justification for a scientific process.

But wait… I too have used the excuse “because I can” when defending my actions against others. Why high rep squats? Why sumo and conventional deadlifts? Why zerchers? Why reverse grip bench? Why thumbless? And many more.

Because I can.

I began to realize that sometimes we do things for no other reason than because we can, or want to, regardless of what it is we are doing. There should not always be a scientific necessity behind everything inside or outside of the gym. Why do I behind the neck press many times per month, with variable loads and volumes, when most “scientific” research says that it is unsafe? Why does Konstantin Konstantinovs deadlift with a rounded back? Why did Bob Peoples deadlift with a form most modern day experts would cringe at? (2) Why do strongmen competitors carry sandbags through knee deep water before many other events? (3)

Because they can.

To me, there is a bit of beauty in that mentality.

Still to this day the argument “but that isn’t proper” comes to mind. Not proper form, reps, load, exercise pairings, or periodization. Not proper for what? Weightlifting? Powerlifting? Criticize a man’s deadlift form on YouTube and if he were to respond, “I’m training for strongman.” Then, according to the athletic gurus, all would be forgiven. Save the sake for a few individuals.

Of course there is an optimal and suboptimal way of doing something. But in moving things from point ‘A’ to point ‘B’ all that matters is that they are moved. That’s what CrossFit is- moving things from here to there. And isn’t it odd that strongman is that very similar beast; often populated by actual leviathans.

See, the Nautilus has shown me that CrossFit, much to its moniker, is everything I already know- only slightly different. In strongman the winner is determined by time, distance, or load moved. And that’s a measure CrossFit has taken and turned on its head. Captain Nemo measures the performance of his crew by those very same measures. Except their times are often longer, the distance is greater, and the load is significantly lighter. Moreover, in powerlifting and weightlifting the chosen lifts must be completed within a defined set of rules, within an acute margin of technical error. CrossFit dumps this and largely has “complete the lift” policy; like strongman. There are things as no-reps, but outside of a competition that sort of judiciousness is rarely seen.

When the first weightlifters began to move away from the split snatch in favor of the squat snatch there was dissent. (4) Yet now it would seem that the squat snatch is king, as it is the most commonly accepted form of the movement. I’m not saying Captain Nemo and his ilk are superior to weightlifters, powerlifters or strongmen.

I’m saying they’re different.

And in that difference they shine. Captain Nemo sought refuge in the depths of the ocean, away from imperialist governments and oppression. It was his brilliance, and unarguable madness, which led him to build the Nautilus and recruit faithful followers; once built they took to the sea to hide away from governments and fight against enemies. CrossFit is fighting against the monotony of the treadmill, the lackluster of Planet Fitness, and the social backwardness that tells both men and women barbells are bad. CrossFitters are excited about this. Many of them tell everyone about it. Many of them want everyone to try it.

Which some would say is likening to a cult.

Well, from the surface it would appear that way. But as a powerlifter who coaches CrossFitters multiple times per week and has flatly told many of them, “I do not do WODs.” I can say with absolute certainty, they could not care less. All that matters to them is that I’m healthy, improving myself, and helping others, safely. Contrasted against that are my very own people, powerlifters, who shun away different training methods, styles, and programs. Westside vs Smolov vs 5/3/1 vs Cube… the list goes on and on. With the infighting between powerlifters it is clear why CrossFit may appear cultish- there is no harmony between the former as there is the latter.

There is absolutely a surface appearance of cult like behavior among CrossFitters. They are excited about their new strength, stamina, appearance, and simply want to tell everyone about it. Some will shun away outsiders, but that behavior is not unique to CrossFit.  

The fears and contempt I had for CrossFit before I came aboard the Nautilus were justified by many things and still to this day I walk within it’s hull and see things I have never seen before. The difference is now, subsurface and after many days at sea, I am beginning to understand the ways and whys. The genius of ‘Fran’ and the stupidity of ‘Murph.’ (5, 6, 7.) Yes there are better ways to get stronger. Yes there are better ways to get more conditioned. 

But there is no better way to keep things interesting. 

And that is what keeps people coming back to CrossFit- curiosity. I can do one hundred pull ups, I can run one mile, I can do two hundred push ups and three hundred air squats. But can I do them altogether, and then add a mile at the end? That curiosity leads some men to the Mariana Trench and some to the top of Everest… and some to their death.

That’s the curiosity, which is the heartbeat of CrossFit.

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but the inherent challenge within the wondrous question “can it be done?” is what brought climbers to the top of Everest, runners across the desert floor of Death Valley, and mushers and their dogs across thousands of miles of frozen emptiness. CrossFit aims to push the limits of the human ability in their own direction. The direction is the only difference. The reasoning is the same.

All things can be scaled down to the novice. Everest to a nearby hill and Badwater to a lap around the block. Which leads me to the single greatest lesson I have learned since coming aboard the Nautilus.

The most important thing I have learned at sea is this, piloted by a dim and malevolent captain the Nautilus quickly becomes a machine of destruction and will ultimately lead itself into maelstrom. The good and the bad, they are all CrossFit; because CrossFit is an idea- it is not a thing. What it is has been around for a long time. The name is the thing that gives it publicity. Ideas can be corrupted, good intentions can have bad results, and great theory without practice can easily become dangerous. It is entirely dependent upon the Captain and his crew. I am lucky in that I was brought aboard a vessel that so responsibly cruises the sea.

That responsibility of captain and crew is my single guidance to anyone considering setting off aboard a submarine. Go on skeptical and withhold your trust, keep close your life vest and breath deep, because it is not until your captain begins to dive will you be able to determine whether he is a cruel rogue who measures progress by pain- or a benevolent steward who understands progress means nothing if stolen by perilous action.

Aronnax embraced his capture by Captain Nemo aboard the Nautilus because as a marine biologist he saw value in it. Like him I have embraced CrossFit because as a powerlifter, I see value in it. 

1.      https://medium.com/health-fitness-1/97bcce70356d

2.      http://www.myosynthesis.com/training-methods-bob-peoples

3.      http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Q7LN7x7qmI

4.      http://ditillo2.blogspot.com/2009/11/squat-style-vs-split-charles-coster.html

5.      http://athletics.wikia.com/wiki/Metabolic_Conditioning

6.      http://danjohn.net/2011/06/the-four-steps/

7.      http://robbwolf.com/2011/11/09/the-case-for-the-short-metcon/

Movements and Swimming Pools

Imagine if you will, a movement- let’s say the squat.  Now, imagine a swimming pool; clean and refreshing.

Enjoyable.

Your movements are a swimming pool.

Your reps are gallons of water.

You have your pool and it is empty. It exists there as the knowledge of its existence. But you must fill it. You fill it with reps; technically sound reps are clean water. Reps done poorly are dirty water. Should you decide to start polluting your pool too soon the water will become murky and unpleasant.

Would you want to swim in a dirty pool?

Would you want to practice a movement that you no longer enjoy?

Start filling your pool with dirty water too soon and it is quick to become unclean. Once it is unclean, it is much harder to tap into a clean water source. Once it is unpleasant to swim in you no longer want to go swimming in it.

But should you fill it first with clean water, how dirty would it appear should you decide to pour in a gallon of muddy water? It would be unnoticed. It would be as if it occurred and then dissipated into nothingness.

It would be diluted by the vast quantity of clean water filling your swimming pool.

And you would still want to swim.

You would still squat.

And all the gallons you fill it with would make it grow from an inflatable children’s pool to an Olympic one.

But you will never fill an Olympic size pool should you decide to tap into unclean resources too soon. Yet, once you have it, you can afford a few gallons of murky water.

And still want to swim in your swimming pool. 

Training Through Adversity

Recently I've been reading and hearing from guys complaining about how they're not where they "should be" in regards to lifting. This kind of talk is demoralizing to themselves and if done habitually will result in being trapped in a permanent quagmire. Many times it sounds like this:

"If I only had a equipment-x."

"If I only hadn't been injured."

"I wish I had a team to train with."

"My gym sucks."

If, wish, and a whole lot of boohooing. Those are hurdles to progress and eventually they'll get higher and higher- until you're either physically or emotionally incapable of overcoming them.

Now, I'm about to get real on you, life stories, and all that crap. So if you don't want to read it, turn back now. But what follows are some examples of of things I've trained through, and if you're not a close friend or family- you've likely never heard me talk about this stuff. If just one person reads this and realizes they've been throwing themselves in quicksand and then pulls themselves out of it and refuses to get back in, then it's worth it.

From the fall of 2010 to the spring of 2011 I was in Afghanistan. My gyms were decent most of the time, but about 30% of my life out there was spent driving around and hopping from outpost to outpost. Many times the gyms looked like this:

This was by far one of the worst though.

And guess what? I still trained. A large part of my training was spent outside in the winter of Afghanistan training with old bars, plates, and the basic equipment- squat racks, benches, and pull up bars. Towards the end though, I did get access to newer bars and plates- still no fancy monolifts, specialty bars, or bands. Although, we did get some heavy duty chains out of the junkyard. That was nice. While in Afghanistan I trained as much as I could, as hard as I could. Why? Because I didn't know whether or not it would be the last day I could squat... for the rest of my life. While there my conventional deadlift when from 405 to 455 and my bodyweight dropped from 185 to 160; got stronger while getting leaner- all before I truly became interested in powerlifting. Here's one video from the best gym I had access to.

"Well I cannot afford quality nutrition." I'm sure many times you have heard people talk about this. Hell maybe even you yourself has used this excuse. Well, many times I ate MRE's and guess what- I still got leaner and stronger.

Not exactly "quality" nutrition. But damn are those peanut M&M's a lifesaver. 

Once I got back from Afghanistan in May-ish of 2011 I started to become interested in competing in powerlifting. At this time I began using 5/3/1 more or less and had access to a "normal" military gym (AKA pretty much a 24-Hour Fitness) which I soon decided was stupid and so I bought a power rack, a bar, and enough weight to get me stronger. This was in the summer, in 29 Palms, California, with no A/C or swamp cooler in my garage. Needless to say, it was damn hot. Here's me failing a sled push on my home made Prowler. I had to wear gloves otherwise the metal handles would have burned my hands. 

Guess what happened? I got stronger. 

Then came a dark time in my life. On September 10th, 2011 my grand mother passed away. I drove back to Colorado to be with my family and say my good byes. But guess what else I did? I signed up at a gym in my neighborhood and continued to train. Some people were hurt by this and I had to explain to my family that training is like my meditation. That's how I release. That's how I focus. That's where I go to think. After that, they understood. 

Then just one month and twelve days later my mother passed away. Again I drove back to Colorado to be with my family. And again I went back to the gym in my old neighborhood to train. And again I had to explain why I do what I do, because it is who I am. While in Colorado for my mother's funeral I hit my very first 3x bodyweight deadlift. Not because I had it planned, but because I had been training hard, consistently, and frequently- regardless of obstacles.

I was taught to get through obstacles, not to let them stop me.

That next month I signed up for my first powerlifting meet. If Afghanistan and the passing of two very influential matriarchs in my family couldn't stop me from training and getting stronger I was damned sure the devil himself couldn't either. 

Well, lucky for me the gym on base went through a major remodel and I started training there for the last two months leading up to my first meet. Video sampling here. I also had an on-and-off training partner who also signed up for that meet. 

I was hooked and continued to train. 

Shortly after my first meet I had to go to a military leadership academy; which essentially was "Running Summer Fun Day Camp." After being there for two weeks and doing a gratuitous amount of running I hit my first 500 lb deadlift, literally the day after a run through the sands and hills of Mordor itself. Even then, the devil and all his running and desert heat couldn't stop me from training. I'd go to the gym at 0430 only to go to "school" and run, study, and do more studying. I ended up the Honor Graduate of my course.

My "Trophy:" The oldest weapon with unbroken use in US History. 

After leaving that Academy I continued to train. My off-and-on training partner moved across the country and in turn I picked up another off-and-on training parter. It wasn't their presence in the gym that made me stronger- it was the fact that we, as Marines, talk shit to each other constantly. Whether that be in person, over the phone, or online. I didn't need a spotter to squat or bench heavy, I just went heavy in a power rack. If I did want a spotter I didn't get shy either, I would ask a stranger. No big deal. That's not a reason to not train with intensity. Then, eight months after my first powerlifting meet I put nearly 100 pounds on my total in my second meet. 

There, that's enough story time for now. I'm not one to get "inspirational" or any of that bullshit- as I hardly ever do. Hell, there are thousands of people out there who have done much more than me, with far greater obstacles to overcome. There are probably hundreds of other lifters who still have done more than me in worse circumstances; here's just one. I just wanted to spread some light on how training circumstances, tragic events, and of all things equipment have very little impact on whether or not you can get to where you want to be, not where you "should be." 

Because in life, all that truly matters is your character.