Unleash the Monkey Army

I've been thinking about training a bit recently. Partly inspired by the end of the indoor rowing "season" and partly on the back of a couple of  conversations I've been having.  The indoor rowing "season" is actually a year and runs from the 1st May. Having just come to the end of the 2015-16 season it seemed a good time for a  review. Top level, I completed 1.4 million metres over 108 hours of sliding up and down on the metal rail. Sounds like a lot of time in the same 8ft x 3ft but it's  significantly less time than I spend watching TV. Also, while it is two thirds of my recorded lifetime distance, it is a pretty moderate sort of distance for  most indoor rowers. That's not surprising, I don't have a long history of anything that would help me very much and while the physique I've been gifted and  enhanced with nutritional choices (good and bad) might have some uses, it is not one that you would look at and think "rower"...

Welcome back! We're nearly two weeks into 2014. that means that the 12 burpees of Christmas, thankfully, over. The festive period is naught but memory, a shadow, fading but somewhat jaded by the arrival of the bank statements and credit card bills! But, her in the monkey army we're more upbeat than that, so today we'll revisit the tail-end of the Christmas period and cast an eye to the future. 12 Burpees of Christmas (Again, taking "Sets of" as read by the number) Day 8 - 8 gecko burpees.  These were surprisingly difficult. It shouldn't have been a surprise, but it was! with one leg in the air, the arms, shoulders and chest take more weight and, for somebody as stiff as me, the hip opening proves to be a little uncomfortable. Day 9 - 9 180° degree burpees. As the name suggests, a burpee with a 180° twist in mid-air on the jump. Actually, I quite enjoy these. As fatigue kicks in, stabilizing the jump/landing can be fun but otherwise...

I've noticed something int he lads I train over the years. Well, I've noticed many things but for their peace of mind I'm going to keep this piece about the burpees! It is the same thing that I have seen in a lot of photos on the internet of people doing burpees. Instructional pictures are quite clear, the finishing position is upright. Sounds straightforward enough (or straightuppish enough) but as with many thing in life, it is not always as straightforward as the textbooks would have you believe. I've said before, I'm not actually that bothered about whether you finish your burpee with a jump or with your hands overhead or at your sides. As long as you finish upright, I'm a happy bunny (everything is relative). What I see a lot of though, is the tendency to fail to open the hips at the top of the movement, and that is what I am talking about. I think it comes about because the head does not lead (and I mean that in both senses). And, the individua...

End of November. Eight months done. It's quite satisfying to write that. I know I have been going for a while, certainly it feels like ages. Counting down the days as I have been keeps the journey ticking along but they are just numbers and, if I'm honest, it feels like measuring a long road-trip by the lamp-posts you drive past. But to write 8 months is like being given a gift that you weren't expecting! It is only two-thirds done but four months to go seems within arm's reach. OK, maybe for a gibbon rather than a T-Rex but nonetheless it is within sight. One of the things that I had not expected on this voyage was the down-times. Given my constant fight to keep the darkness pushed to the back corners of my mind, it shouldn't have come as a surprise, but it did. There are many things that contribute to its exacerbation - sleep and nutrition are two crucial components in keeping the hormones in check. Recovery, mobility and tissue work would not hurt ei...

It's time for me to both add some value and bring something a little bit old school to this party. Yes, that's right, I'm going to talk to you about the off-season.  Starting from an early age, the off-season was that fallow period when you wandered around like a lost sheep looking for something to fill the void. When I was 16 and just starting rugby, that was easy, rugby finished, cricket started. Then come July I got blend a bit of both before playing some matches of both in August and switching back in September. Then I played a bit of rugby league, then I went on a Summer rugby tour and between the prep and the reality of it, the nails were well and truly hammered into the coffin of my pursuit of gentle days standing in a field in white pyjamas.  Where was I? Oh yes, the off-season. It's May, you're not professional but even so, your almost 8-month long season has not long finished. For some, the time away came at just the right moment. For others, it...

Last night I saw an old woman in her heavy cotton pyjamas and her belt of authorita giving a demonstration. She proved, beyond all expectations, that her self-defence art only works if the attacker obligingly holds himself in the right position. It reminded me of my childhood and the various martial arts renaissances – most particularly karate. There seemed to be an army of black belts sprouting, like dragon’s teeth, all claiming that they were invincible. Most went on to point out that you were not attacking them in the right way when they were unable to fell you with a “deft monkey” or something like that. All of this brought me on the handful of finishers’ medals that I have for various silliness. I put those in a similar league to the non-competitive sports-days and electoral reform…I know my mind is as cluttered (and as filthy) as a teenager’s bedroom! The medals slice up two ways. Yes, they are a symbol of the achievement of finishing, and that separates those of who received ...

While we have all been there, it is still desperately sad to see somebody wallowing in the pit of despair.  (from "The Princess Bride" a must-watch film, the book is different but well worth a read too) I get that it is difficult for you. I know that you want me or somebody to say or do something that will make it easy. Something that will make it all ok, that will make it go away. I can't. In truth, the admission still hurts me but it is the truth.  What you want is a bottle labelled "drink me" that will take you to a different world. But all you seem to get is the world saying "eat me". I hate to be the one to stamp on your playset but the Star Trek transporter system doesn't yet actually exist. If you look up for a minute you will see that there is an open door for you. I know, there are stairs on the other side of the door and they will be harder and who knows, you may even run the risk of having to put in some effort. But what's your ...