When I was just a little guy my eyes would fly open at about 4am on Christmas morning and I’d roll out of bed in my one-piece jammies and press my ear against the door to see if I could hear the sounds of gifts and fat guys coming down the chimney. I’d rattle the bunk bed to wake up my big brother and ask him if he heard reindeer on the roof and how long he thought we’d have to wait until we could go out to the living room. 6am was the generally agreed upon hour and I’d puff and sigh in exasperation until the all-clear was signaled and my brother and I would explode into the hallway and fight for the lead like a couple of NASCAR drivers until we fell upon the gifts under the tree. I hope all of us have memories like that, the ones in which we have unrestrained excitement and joy; a surprise birthday party, Bar Mitzvah, a trip to Disneyland, because those moments are rare in adulthood.
Two weeks ago, though, I jumped from the couch in my office with rare Christmas morning joy when I heard a package being dropped on my porch and the door bell being rung. As I saw the black boots of the UPS guys trudging away I threw the door open, picked up the heavy package and clutched it to my chest like Ralphie’s Red Ryder BB Gun from A Christmas Story (“You’ll shoot your eye out!”). But this time, it wasn’t Hot Wheels or Star Wars figures or a new baseball glove, it was something even more precious.
I clawed the box open like a cat trying to get out of a bag, removed one of the two vests I had ordered and held it aloft like a newly born kitten.
I hugged it and danced with it, a slow waltz (I let it lead). I may have kissed it, I definitely sang to it (“My weight vest, oh gray weight vest how I love theeeeeeee…..”)
Then, like a kid in a superhero costume, I put it on, ran around the house and checked myself out in the mirror. Oh, yes, I looked good. And I couldn’t wait for my workout that night. With my brand new 10lb Infinity Weight Vest I was going to be endowed with extraordinary powers. I was going to C.R.U.S.H. my workout.
Some hours later, at my gym in Northridge, I strutted in with it casually draped over my shoulder and the second vest, still in the box, tucked under my other arm like a football.
“Oh, here’s your weight vest, Will,” I tossed it to him, nonchalant, nonplussed, super cool. He tore into it, held it aloft, danced with it and sang a brief song. It was embarrassing. I buckled up my vest, made sure it was tight, and readied myself for Spartan Sport class.
Will Garcia and I live for stuff like weight vests. We got into adventure racing last year and are constantly trying to one up each other and raise the bar. We started with a 3 mile obstacle course race, then went to 9 miles, back to 6, up to 12, we send each other articles, train like beasts, compare injuries, all that good stuff. But with a difficult 12 mile obstacle course race in the hills of Sacramento coming up November 17th, we’re paranoid about preparation and decided to get weight vests. That’s what Hobie Call, King of Obstacle Course Racing does, and that’s what we’re going to do. We broke our legs on the ridiculous hills of Temecula in the Spartan Super in January and don’t want to suffer that horror again.
So, on the first evening of training with my 10lb Infinity Weight Vest, I jumped into Will’s class, which is broken into 9 five-minute intervals and went something like this:
1. Rowing Machine
2. Prisoner squats, lunges, push ups, high plank alt. knees to elbows, sit ups
3. Running on the Woodway treadmill
4. Battle ropes and burpees
5. Box jumps, power step ups, power push ups, spider walk, pikes
6. Running on the Woodway treadmill
7. Sled push and mountain climbers
8. Box jump burpees, jump lunges, push ups with rotation, knee tucks, bicycle
9. Rowers
Sleds and ropes and weight vests; the stuff of nightmares.
And, as the class progressed, my inner experience went from:
“Wow, this is cool!”to
“Interesting, this makes everything harder, hahaha!” to
“Good lord, this thing is no joke, ha!” to
“I’m not sure I like this at all!” to
“GET IT OFF ME, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GET IT OFF ME!”
When the final bell rang I ripped off my God Forsaken 10lb Infinity Weight Vest, shook it fiercely and cast it aside. Somehow, by about midway through the class, I was no longer wearing a 10lb weight vest. I was giving a 3rd grader a piggy back ride.
“Wow, maybe tomorrow night’s Spartan Strength class will be better,” I thought.
It was not.
I discovered that full-body dumbbell exercises SUCK when you weigh more than you’re supposed to weigh. Pull ups are awful. My push up count was halved.
WHAT IS GOING ON? IT ONLY WEIGHS TEN POUNDS!
Seriously, why is this so hard? Why is a mere 10lbs such a noticeble difference?
More weight = more work. The more weight you move in the course of a workout, the more effort it requires for the movement. It’s not a matter of picking up a 10lb dumbbell, lifting it 10 times for a value of 100lbs. If you increase your overall weight by 10lbs and you make 3,000 to 4,000 movements during a training session (as indicated by my FitBit), you’re increasing the overall volume of weight being moved during that workout by 30,000 to 40,000lbs! Simply stated, that requires more effort.
Why do it, then? What’s the payoff?
Because it forces adaptation. Your body is accustomed, or adapted, to moving around at it’s current weight. If you increase that weight suddenly (not slowly over the course of time), you shock your body and it is forced to adapt to the increase in resistance. Adaptation equals improvement.
Improved strength and speed – Faster 40 yard dash time, broad jump and vertical jump. I’m fairly certain I won’t be doing any of these activities anytime soon but it’s good to know I’d be able to if someone challenged me to a race, long jump test or slam dunk contest.
Improved endurance – Increased VO2 max and lactate threshold. I have little idea what these actually mean physiologically, but I’m pretty sure they’re awesome.
Improved bone density – Now THIS is cool. Not necessarily something I worry too much about for myself, but for women, older women in particular, this could be a very cool thing. Studies show that just wearing it around in regular life could be helpful in this capacity. And stylish.
Will Garcia after the Spartan Super in Temecula. Our legs were shot. Hence, the God Awful 10lb Infinity Weight Vest.
However, there are a few things to watch out for:
Don’t yank a 20lb vest right out of the box, strap it on, and go on a 12 mile run. That’s a good way to overload your joints and cause injury. Get a 6lb or 10lb weight vest and wear it sparingly at first, slowly increasing the duration and intensity of your workouts.
Don’t wear it EVERY TIME you train! Why? Because it’s going to slow down your movements, which over the course of time can teach your body to move slowly if you always wear it. I wear mine twice a week and I am very, very grateful I found this article that cautioned against wearing it every time you train because, frankly, it’s awful.
STOP wearing it at least 2 weeks in advance of any competition you’re going to do. For some reason, your body needs a few weeks to recover from weight vest training before the improvements show up. This does not surprise me one bit. I felt like I needed two days to recover from the first time I wore it.
Why do we do things like this? Why do we subject ourselves to workouts that bring us to our knees, make us feel like beginners all over again?
Because that’s what progress demands. In order to continue with an upward trajectory you have to be willing to seek out and implement new and innovative ways to make yourself uncomfortable; what I call “Holy Sh** Training.” In my case I don’t want my legs to fold in the middle of a trail run, so it’s the weight vest. In your case, it may be adding a day of running or hill walking, a yoga class, Pilates, a CrossFit workout, something new, something different, something challenging, something that will help you grow and improve. I knew the weight vest was going to add an element of difficulty to my training, I just didn’t realize how much more difficult it was going to be. But that’s the price of improvement, and I know that, I accept it.
Remember that Christmas morning feeling we once had? We no longer find it wrapped in paper beneath a tree. It doesn’t come from something given to you by someone else, it comes from what you do for yourself, from the pride of pushing through something difficult. For me, Christmas morning shows up at the finish line of a long, muddy race. Where does it exist for you??
P.S.
Dear Weight Vest, you’re not so bad.
Sincerely, Jonathan
Jonathan Aluzas is the owner of Arena Fitness, a personal training, semi private training and group fitness facility with locations in Encino and Northridge.
