Discussion in 'Health & Body' started by Eason, Dec 20, 2009.
it depends how you set up
Is there anyone online you can hire for mobility / therapy online? Someone who could like look at the posture of my right shoulder and help me fix it? I wonder how much a phone call with Kstar would cost.
If you can dunk a tennis ball that's a good start. I'd say your best best is to keep squatting heavy. I've been on (kind of intermittently because of school) for the last half year and even though I put on a lot of weight, the strength gains of definitely contributed. So I'd get that squat up. This article is an interesting read and something I followed back when I first got interested in jumping higher. I haven't read it in a while so I'm not sure how everything holds up in it, but IIRC it has some good stuff:
If I can find this really good article on actual jumping technique I'll post it. It helped a lot.
Edit: and as I said before, a lot comes down to genetics. According to this "vertical jump calculator", at my bodyweight and with how weak my squat is atm, I should only have a 19" vertical...
yes, there is. mike robertson or eric cressey could help..
they charge an insane amount, have fun.
It's like a rack pull
Knew you would have a suggestion. I've spent near $2,000 to have an MRI, X-Ray, and Orthopedic check out my arm. He was like well nothing is torn so take these meds. Shit sucks.. maybe I can find someone half decent around this area but wouldn't know where to start.
Knowing those two dudes pedigree, I probably can't afford them.
Where are you again? NYC?
You can email Eric Cressey and ask him if he knows of anyone in the area..
I'll give that a shot. Thanks!
Was off IF/carb back-loading for 2 months, time to go back on and cut some fat.
Lots of heavy box jumps brought me up to a 25-30" (don't remember what exactly) vertical in high school. I can touch rim on most days now and I'm way shorter than you guys.
Pre cooking and freezing all your meals makes things so much easier. All i have to do is get home, stick a box in the microwave, and eat. If i could find a recipe to incorporate more carbs in a slow cooker that would be even better. Will try and make some sort of chicken meals for next week i think. Beef chilli is so easy to make, reheat and portion though.
I can't sleep so I want to write something.
The bar is just a few feet in front of me. My heart-rate starts to speed up just from looking at it, and every step forward I take seems to make my heart beat that much faster. I'm not even two steps away but I already start to feel breathless. Deep breath in. My rib cage expands. Tense my abdominals to make sure they'll work when I need them most. Breathe out. Two more steps.
I look down, shuffle my feet under the bar. Shins one inch away. Right hand under, left hand over. I stick my butt back and flatten my spine, letting the tension awaken my hamstrings as I solidify my grip on the bar.
I take one last breath and tense every muscle in my core that I know how to, hoping I'll get the right ones and it will stop my spine from bending like a paperclip when I'm at my sticking point. I drop my hips, it's time to get ready. They say you should squeeze the bar as hard as you can, like you're going to mold it in your grasp like a piece of steel play-dough. I squeeze as hard as I can, but my bar is different, it's squeezing back, molding my hands to its will.
I tense my lats to create as much support as I can, and my hips reach the bottom of their descent. My shins touch the bar as my knees bend forward, the cold metal is a comforting feeling compared to the unbearable tightness of my tightly coiled position-- a claustrophobic's nightmare. With absolutely everything I have, I push up and forward with my hips while straightening my back.
But it doesn't happen like that. The bar has barely fucking moved, it can't be more than a couple of inches off the ground. I start to feel the enormous weight pull me forward, like a boat of folded newspaper on the edge of a vortex... But I adjust, I keep the weight on my heels and I drag the bar up my shins. I've got it two, maybe three inches higher now. The scraping on my skin is a slight dull pain, but it feels good compared to the pressure in my chest and head. I can't look forward into a mirror yet, but if I could, I'm sure I would see veins bulging on flushed skin.
The scraping means my mechanics are going to be more efficient. At least I've got that part right so far. The bar is higher now.
Push your hips forward.
Keep them tight.
Just fucking get upright.
I can feel my thoracic spine screaming to curve, like a rusted iron girder groaning under the strain of a construction it was never meant to support on its own.
I fight the urge to let my back give in, and now I'm nearly upright. I can see someone in the mirror but I don't immediately recognize him. Maybe a long lost brother? His face is screwed, tendons bulging, and he's letting out a kind of growl. It isn't a predatory one, it's more like a wounded animal. Maybe one that's slowly being crushed by an unfathomable weight. I'm almost vertical.
The bar is floating, and if I were to let go I'm fairly certain it would keep rising without my help.
Locked out now. It is so easy to hold in this position. It must have been so easy to get it here. What was it like? Each time I can't remember the effort in anything but the most vague terms, like a victim of concussion. The weight is mine now. I hold it for 3 seconds, just to make sure it's real, that I really do own it.
I allow the bar to drop. Done. 405 lbs, my first major milestone.
Next up, 495.
I haven't yet done 405, but I want it. I want it bad, and I'm going to take it next month.
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