OVERSIMPLIFICATION

This is going to be a wild departure from what I typically write about, because for once, instead of making things too complicated, folks are making things too simple and it’s preventing them from learning REAL lessons about training.  Specifically, individuals are observing processes and from the process attempting to discern the motive and from that arrive at a conclusion.   And already I’ve made things too complicated in my attempt to explain how people are oversimplifying, so we see what sort of headspins this is about to cause.  I’m going to talk about me for a second, because I get to do that when I write the blog, and talk about 2 specific cases I constantly experience regarding oversimplification: how I eat and why I train. 

Proof that no one cares how much you train legs

How I eat has become especially relevant as of recently due to my release of “the” nutritional post, which, if you haven’t poured over that tome, basically describes how I gain and lose weight without counting calories.  I employ what most would consider a VERY regimented approach to nutrition, eating the same or similar meals daily, making small adjustments based on goals, eating at the same time each day, etc.  However, I’ve had multiple people since tell me that they WISH they could eat intuitively “like me”.  Huh?  Nothing about how I eat is intuitive.  If I ate intuitively, I’d be MASSIVELY fat, as I have a voracious appetite and very much enjoy decadent and calorically dense foods (any fan of the blog knows my penchant for nachos). I’d NEVER eat a vegetable if I ate intuitively, my portion sizes for meats would be completely absurd, and I’d most likely have diabetes.  But people hear “doesn’t count calories” and immediately oversimplify that to mean that it’s intuitive eating.  The notion that it could actually be a complex, well thought out and multi-faceted approach is too much to undertake.

My training receives similar oversimplification.  People hear that I engage in long, grueling, strenuous sessions, that I use no fans during the hottest days of summer in my garage and no heat in the winter, that I train outside during the hottest parts of the day, that I will lie on the floor between sets before getting back up and knocking things out again, etc etc, and I keep hearing the same thing: “you’re a masochist”.  Once again: huh?  Being a masochist would completely defeat the purpose of the training here, as I’m training to make myself BETTER, and giving in to my desires would be the opposite of getting better: that would be satisfying perversions (in the case of a masochist).  I DON’T like pain, I don’t like discomfort, I don’t like exerting myself, and that’s WHY I do it: because being miserable builds character (which is a quote from Bill Waterson via his creation Calvin).  The oversimplification results in missing the point: the training isn’t an instance of someone doing something they like, it’s someone doing something they DON’T like because exposure to that misery results in self-improvement.

He's not wrong...

These oversimplifications are honestly a means of combating cognitive dissonance, because both are approaching an idea that people don’t WANT to hear: that the process of physical transformation is going to result in discomfort.  People would much rather believe that those that achieve their physical goals are simply blessed in all aspects of transformation, with genetics being the obvious cop out, but here we observe individuals assuming some sort of X-men like mutant ability contributing to the success of the trainee.  They assume someone not counting calories must just somehow, through the powers of sorcery, crave EXACTLY the amount of food needed as it corresponds to their goals of fat loss or weight gain, to include the right types of food to support that training and zero inclination to eat anything that would derail them from their plans.  That person is blessed that they don’t STRUGGLE with the sensation of unnecessary hunger: they simply eat when they are hungry and then they aren’t hungry anymore.  And the person that trains hard? Why, it’s because they are suffering from some sort of mild psychosis that makes them WANT to train hard. That person doesn’t get how HARD it is for us mere mortals that DON’T like training.

And we’re all guilty of this.  People see high level competitors doing something “off script” by using bizarre technique, weird eating habits, insane programming, etc etc, and it’s always “oh, well they can GET AWAY with that because of XYZ.”  That’s oversimplifying it dude.  Why don’t we actually take some time to examine it, deconstruct it, and see if maybe we can figure out WHY they do what they do.  But here’s the mistake trainees make: once you (maybe) figure out why, that DOESN’T mean that YOU immediately need to go try that thing out and implement it.  Put that information away for now, keep it safeguarded, be willing to come back to it when the time is right, but don’t let it take you off the current path of success you’re on.  We tell new trainees not to worry about what the pros are doing because beginners tend to immediately try to COPY said pros, but to hand-wave the reason away as simply being something pros can do because they’re pros is being disingenuous and wasting a potential learning opportunity. 

For instance, I've posted this photo for years and STILL have no idea what's going on

There’s no need to overcomplicate your own training.  If something is stupid and it works, it’s not stupid.  If you’re in doubt, follow someone else’s plan, so long as that person has demonstrated a way to produce results.  The 3 keys to success are effort, consistency and time.  Etc etc.  None of these things are wrong.  BUT, when observing others, allow yourself the ability to dig a little deeper, ask yourself some questions, engage your curiosity and do some thinking.  And this doesn’t mean you need to rush out and find studies that confirm your findings: go ahead and try to understand it under the frame of your own paradigm, and if THAT doesn’t fit, be willing to shift your paradigm for the sake of understanding the approach.  You may walk away with something valuable.