The clock does not reset or stop between exercises. On call of “rotate”, the athlete/s must move to next station immediately for good score. One point is given for each rep, except on the rower where each calorie is one point.
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3 Rounds, total score: 327 (122, 101, 104). Not sure what the breakdown was for each exercise off the top of my head. This was my first time doing FGB and I really enjoyed it. The amount of rest in between rounds, and the variation of the exercises really let you go all out each time. In the end I was crushed, but felt fairly satisfied with my score.
Afternoon
Warm Up: Run 1 mile. 100 push-ups for time.
Strength: 3 RM Dead Lift
Work Capacity / Stamina: For time: 10 rounds: 5 x Dead Lift (185#), 5 x pull-ups then run 800M, then, 10 Rounds: 5 x Push-Press (95#), 5 x pull-ups.
1. 7:17, 3:34 (need to get better at high rep push-ups
2. DL 3rm - 295
3. Part 1 - 6:20. Didn't do part 2 for time because of tear on my palm, did 5 rounds of 5 push press (95#) with 5 strict pull-ups, and then 2x5 strict press with 95...Really liked this workout, going to try again once the hand gets better
For time:
Run 800 Meters
4 rounds: 10 pull-ups, 15 thrusters (95#), 20 KB swing (55#).
Run 800 M.
24:08
Not the best time, but I felt like I gave it a solid effort. The thrusters were definitely what killed me
1. Warm Up: 40-30-20-10 push-ups, sit-ups, squats
2. Work Capacity: 5 round for time: 400M run, 30 KB swings, 30 pull-ups
1. as rx'd
2. 28:38 (4 rounds) this was hard as hell. Really need to work on my pull-ups, they felt like a lot more work than they should be. The swings were hard but as expected.
BY MARK TWIGHT
"When a person trains once, nothing happens. When a person forces himself to do a thing a hundred or a thousand times, then he certainly has developed in more ways than physical. Is it raining? That doesn't matter. Am I tired? That doesn't matter, either. Then willpower will be no problem."
Emil Zatopek
The difference between a good alpinist and a great one is will. The great climber exercises the discipline required to know himself. He trains to be stronger than he thinks necessary. On a route he eats to sustain energy levels even if it makes him gag, and he drinks regularly to stay hydrated. He stops in the middle of a pitch to pull his hood up if the spindrift gets bad instead of waiting to reach the belay, and he stays dry because of it. He maintains the discipline needed to melt enough ice each night to fill the bottles, and sweeps snow out of the tent instead of letting it melt. He doesn't care if his partner's pack weighs less. He wakes up and starts the stove when the alarm goes off. The great climber recognizes when he's having a bad day and admits it to his partner, then he relinquishes leads where he might slow the team and follows as fast as he can. He does all the cooking that night. A strong-willed climber will fast for a day or two without complaint to wait out bad weather.
Where does this strong will and hardness come from? It derives from recognizing desires and goals and then enduring whatever it takes to fulfill them. A strong will grows from suffering successfully and being rewarded for it. Does a strong will come from years of multi-hour training runs or do those runs result from a dominating will? There is no right answer because will and action feed one another.
Suffering provides the opportunity to exercise will and to develop grit. Replace recreational climbing with specific training to develop confidence. Climb on local crags in weather conditions far worse than any you would intentionally confront in the high mountains. Austrian climber Herman Buhl carried snowballs in his hands to develop his tolerance (psychological) and increase capillarization (physical). He climbed on his local crags all winter long, even in storm conditions, and rode his bike for hundreds of kilometers on the way to the mountains for training. It paid off, of course, when he climbed alone to the summit of Nanga Parbat.
The mind and body adapt to both comfort and deprivation. The difficult experiences of mountaineering may appear irrational and risky from the comfort of the armchair, but learning to deal with them is essential. Relish the challenge of overcoming difficulties that would crush ordinary men.
Michael Gilbert and Scott Backes got soaked to the bone climbing The Waterfall Pitch on the north face of the Eiger. When they stopped for the night at the Brittle Ledges, they discovered their sleeping bags had been drenched as well, Michael asked, "What are we going to do now?" Scott replied, "We're going to suffer." And they did. But it was a little thing compared to the suffering experienced intentionally and otherwise during the evolution of alpinism.
Learn to suffer.
Just read this...really strong words
Iron and the Soul – By Henry Rollins
I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself.
Completely.
When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me “garbage can” and telling me I’d be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn’t run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.
I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn’t going to get pounded in the hallway between classes. Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you’ll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn’t think much of them either.
Then came Mr. Pepperman, my advisor. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class. Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn’t even drag them to my mom’s car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.
Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.’s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn’t looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing. In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn’t want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in.
Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn’t know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.
Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn’t say shit to me.
It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong. When the Iron doesn’t want to come off the mat, it’s the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn’t teach you anything. That’s the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.
It wasn’t until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can’t be as bad as that workout.
I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn’t ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you’re not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.
I have never met a truly strong person who didn’t have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone’s shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr. Pepperman.
Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.
Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body.
Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn’t see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.
I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you’re made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it’s some kind of miracle if you’re not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole.
I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron Mind.
Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind.
The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it’s impossible to turn back.
The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you’re a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.
