Most Hotel Guests Prefer The Elliptical Trainer

Being forced out of our house and into a hotel for a couple of months means that Michelle can't lift weights in our garage before heading to her graveyard shift at the hospital. But you know what they say: When life gives you lemons, do some farmer's walks with a heavy kettlebell up and down the stairs.

As Seen on TV

Michelle and the boys were on the local news tonight, which prompted Owen to ask if he's now a considered a "movie star."

Uh, no. Not quite.

Michelle's interview with Dr. Kim Mulvihill was shot when we were down in Texas for the Paleo FX conference back in March. Then, last month, more footage was shot at our house (before it got flooded).

I'm super-proud of my better half and her blog -- but more than anything else, this video makes me wistful for a functioning kitchen and a home that isn't wrecked.

(By the way, this video's just the latest segment on the "caveman diet" that San Francisco's CBS affiliate has produced. Check out the other videos here, and stay tuned for two more segments this week about the Paleo lifestyle.)

Monday's Workout: Home (WOD) Alone

M's in the middle of her week of night shifts, and without a sitter, there was no way I could (legally) leave the kids at home to hit the 5 a.m. class at CrossFit Palo Alto this morning. Silver lining: I got two-and-a-half hours of much-needed extra shut-eye.

Later in the day, Tim shot me an email entitled "Today's WOD" with a link to this video from CrossFit Central:

It looked awesome, and I couldn't get it out of my head. I had to do it.

Metcon:

• 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1 of:

• Toes-to-bar
• In-and-outs
• Jumping lunges

After dinner, I tucked the boys into bed, took out the garbage, changed into some raggedy shorts, and set up a pair of homemade parallettes. By the way, here's a handy tip: If you're making your own parallettes with PVC pipe, use a racheting pipe cutter instead of a hand saw. I got one at Home Depot for $10, and it made pipe-cutting a lot easier (and less messy, too).

But first: Warm-up. I got my 15-foot Rogue climbing rope in the mail today, so after securing it to a rafter in the garage, I clambered up and down a half-dozen times.

I love new toys.

Anyway, once I got loose, I started a timer and got going.

The pull-up bar in my garage is mounted a bit too close to our washer and dryer, and I kept banging my heels against the door of the washing machine, but otherwise, the toes-to-bar were fine. The jumping lunges, too, flew by quickly. (They brought back not-so-fond memories of doing endless "Mary Katherine" lunges from P90X Plyometrics a bazillion years ago.)

The in-and-outs, however, proved more challenging for me. I'd underestimated their difficulty, or perhaps I'd overestimated my level of physical coordination. Either way, by the middle of the WOD, I found myself struggling to keep my legs and body straight once my heels hit the ground. But despite my wobbly legs, I kept moving, and managed to get through all the reps without stopping.

Result: 9:10 as RXed.

Friday's Workout

Waking up at 4:20 in the morning isn't a picnic, but today was particularly bad. As soon as I stuck a contact lens into my bleary left eye, it tore into two pieces and lodged in the back of my eyeball. Even after a good ten minutes of fishing around with my fingers, I came up empty. My eyes were blood red. I needed help.

M had stayed up past midnight (blogging, of course), and I should've let her sleep in. But she was my only hope of getting the shards of plastic out of my eye. I gently shook her awake. Startled, she unleashed an ear-splitting scream directly into my face.

It was that kind of morning.

But after M realized that I wasn't a home invader, she gamely trudged into the brightly-lit bathroom to help dig the torn lens out of the deep recesses of my eye socket. Ah, love.

With a fresh contact lens in place and my wife back in bed, I joined the rest of the 5 a.m. crew at CrossFit Palo Alto.

Strength Skill:

• Front Squats (5-3-3-1-1)

No PR today. My previous best was 205 pounds, and I managed to get to just 200 today. Squatting one-and-a-half times my bodyweight felt like a great accomplishment months ago, but I've been stuck at this weight for eons now, so I'm looking forward to pushing past this plateau soon. Maybe the secret to lifting heavier is to start eating like Steve Pan:



Or maybe I just need to keep practicing.

Metcon:

• 25 plate burpees / ground-to-overheads (45lbs / 35lbs)
• Run 400 meters with plate (45lbs / 35lbs)
• Run 800 meters without plate

The first part of this workout involved doing a burpee on a 45-pound bumper plate, and then lifting the plate off the floor and hoisting it overhead -- and repeating this two dozen times. It sounded horrible, but it wasn't bad. Aside from some slight trouble getting my dainty little fingers under the plate to pull it off the floor, the heavy burpees, this movement was pretty much problem-free.

The running, on the other hand, was a hell of a challenge. I was the second person out the door to start the run, but by the time the first 400 meters were done, two others had passed me.

Gaah.

Result: 9:52 as RXed.

Wednesday's Workout: Shoot Me Now

Pistols and Annie -- a lethal combination.

Strength Skill:

• Pistols (5-5-3-3-1)

Still working on my left leg. I think I'm going to start from scratch, and try to move through all the progressions from my left side until it can do everything my right can do.

Metcon:

"Annie" - for time:

• 50 double-unders
• 50 Abmat sit-ups
• 40 double-unders
• 40 Abmat sit-ups
• 30 double-unders
• 30 Abmat sit-ups
• 20 double-unders
• 20 Abmat sit-ups
• 10 double-unders
• 10 Abmat sit-ups

Just a few months ago, I finished Annie in 9:11, and it felt great. Today? Not so much.

I wish I could blame my crappy performance on my jump rope. Before the WOD began, I pulled my Buddy Lee rope out of my gym bag and saw a big crack in the middle of the plastic cable. M's Buddy Lee rope snapped in two last week, and it looked like mine was about to do the same. I quickly wrapped some athletic tape around it and got in position for the start of the workout, but realized that my rope wouldn't unwind. It was coiled around like a curly fry.

To be perfectly honest, though, my jump rope wasn't the problem. I know this because my first, third, and final sets of double-unders went entirely smoothly. With the exception of a hitch in my step early in my first set, I went unbroken on all of those rounds.

So ultimately, the rope wasn't to blame for my frustratingly awful second and fourth sets of double-unders. For whatever reason (mental? physical?), I couldn't rip out more than a few at a time, and kept snagging my right foot on the rope. The more I tripped, the more flustered I got, and the more flustered I got, the more I tripped.

Result: 10:20 as RXed. Yup -- I lost over a minute on my Annie time.

Ugh.

Multitasking

When she wasn't stirring a pot on the stove today, this is what M was up to in the kitchen:

Thursday's Workout: Family WOD

On this warm Mexican morning, "Death by Burpees" sounded like a good idea.

Here's how it works: Start a timer, and with a continuously running clock, perform one burpee at the start of the first minute, two burpees at the start of the second, three burpees at the start of the third minute, and so on. You're done when you can't finish your required number of burpees in a minute's time.

Once again, the kids decided to work out with us. Big-O went full-on beast mode...

...as did Lil-O.

M got through 10 solid rounds of burpees before tapping out.

I managed to eke out 15 rounds before collapsing.

The last time I did "Death by Burpees," I failed to complete fourteen rounds, so I was pretty happy about today's PR.

So happy, in fact, that I decided to indulge in some heavy-duty taco consumption.

Mmm...tacos...

Good Morning

When on vacation, I'm all about sitting around the pool, reading a good book and watching the kids splash around. These days, our travels usually involve minimal sightseeing and maximal R&R. Still, too much lazing around gets me antsy; being inactive for more than a couple of days is torture.

Thankfully, this morning was a particularly active one. On the agenda? CrossFit, outrigger canoe paddling, and snorkeling -- all before lunchtime.

Using a bit of reverse psychology ("Fine by me if you want to sleep in and miss CrossFit"), I managed to get M out of bed and down to Lahaina CrossFit for the 7 a.m. class.

Our workout consisted of three separate components:

1. Interval Sprints

Class started with some self-directed stretching, and then some group warm-up exercises. Once the blood was pumping, Anthony instructed us to perform 10 interval sprints. We ran like our hair was on fire for about 100 meters, and then jogged back -- 10 times. By the time I was done with my third sprint, I was dog-tired. My shirt was already soaked from the humidity and my own perspiration -- and the sun wasn't even bearing down on us yet.

There's something to be said about working out in the chilly pre-dawn darkness, y'all.

2. Twelve Rounds of Cindy (5 Pull-Ups, 10 Push-Ups, 15 Squats)

You know I'm head over heels about Cindy. Bodyweight workouts are my favorite, and Cindy is the queen of bodyweight WODs. I've loved every variation of Cindy I've tried: half-Cindy, three-quarter Cindy, full Cindy, task-priority Cindy, double-under Cindy, Murph, you name it. When I saw Cindy on the whiteboard today, a huge grin broke out on my face.

In fact, I'm sure I was practically drooling.

Still, it's not like a dozen rounds of Cindy is a walk in the park. In particular, the pull-ups gave me some grief after the first half-dozen rounds. After Round 6, I had to pause a couple of times during each set of pull-ups to wheeze and shake the sweat off my face. Nonetheless, the pull-ups and squats felt fast and smooth, and I managed to finish fairly quickly.

Result: 10:42 as RXed.

(The worst part of the workout was afterwards, when M made me stop taking pictures of her as she did push-ups. Note to self: Do not piss off the person who makes your food.)

3. Cleans (5-5-3-3-1-1)

After Tuesday's running-push-ups-burpees-squats-pull-ups workout and today's running-and-Cindy WOD, I was happy to see some barbell work on the board. The strength workout was optional, but a good number of us stuck around to practice cleans. It's been a week since I lifted an object heavier than my three-year-old kid, so I was in the mood for some squat cleans.



"Be careful with your back," M warned as I went to grab plates. It was a good reminder; even though my back feels infinitely better than it did a few weeks ago, going heavy would be a mistake. I kept it light, and well below my 1-rep max. But  by that point, I was exhausted anyway, so I doubt I would've been able to hoist a fully-loaded barbell up even if I'd tried.

Going light does have its disadvantages, though; judging from the bruise on my neck, I was cleaning the bar a bit too aggressively. Either that, or I passed out and someone gave me a hickey while I was unconscious.

After class, M and I drove back to meet up with the rest of the family, and we hit the ocean for an hour of outrigger canoe paddling with Maui Paddle Sports. My cousin and his wife are experienced, competitive, kick-ass paddlers, but M and I are total newbies. Secretly, I was hoping to be seated in one of their canoes so I could just coast and let them do all the heavy paddling.

Alas, M and I -- along with our boys -- were put in a separate canoe, so we actually had to work. It turned out to be incredibly fun and challenging, especially with our three-year-old dragging his paddle in the ocean and our six-year-old using his to giddily slap at the water. Paddling in unison, switching sides, thrusting with arms and back and core, bracing with legs -- all of it made for an excellent full-body workout.

"Regularly learn and play new sports," right?

Last but not least: Snorkeling. There's no better way to cool down than to float around in the warm ocean, casually following the fluorescent fish as they dart through coral.

I sorta don't want to go home.

Visiting Lahaina CrossFit

After three days of lazily snorkeling, sitting by the pool, and stuffing my face, I was glad to get back into a CrossFit gym.

Lahaina CrossFit sits on a hill just east of the little shopping area around the Cannery Mall on Honoapiilani Highway. It's smack-dab in the middle of a number of spots that we regularly hit when we visit Maui: Star Noodle, Mala Ocean Tavern, Aloha Mixed Plate, the big grocery store that used to be called Lahaina Farms -- West Maui's version of Whole Foods -- but was later sold and is now just a gussied-up Foodland. Hence, getting to the box from our place in Ka'anapali is no sweat.

Anthony Bianucci founded Lahaina CrossFit about a year-and-a-half-ago, and for me, the timing couldn't have been better. I had started doing CrossFit at roughly the same time, so when we made our annual trip to Maui, I was on the hunt for the closest affiliate. I found Anthony's place -- at the time, the box was so brand-spankin' new that it didn't even have bars and bumper plates yet -- and threw myself into a number of WODs during my vacation:

• Monday: Power cleans, floor presses, kettlebell swings and running.
• Tuesday: Pull-ups, push-ups, sit-ups, squats.
• Wednesday: Double-unders, pull-ups, dumbbell snatches, kettlebell swings, box jumps, push-presses.
• Friday: Overhead squats, clean & jerks, box jumps. (This workout still stands as my fastest-ever metcon, with a time of two-and-a-half minutes.)

In four workouts, we got the kitchen sink. It was fun and challenging, and Anthony's positive energy helped get me through the humid weather and ass-kicking WODs. When I finished my final workout at Lahaina CrossFit last November, I knew I'd be coming back.

More after the jump...

Someone's Burning the Midnight Oil

How Big-O vacations:

How Lil-O vacations:

How M vacations:

A blogger's work is never done.

Birthday Socks

A year ago, on her birthday, would my wife have worn a pair of knee-high argyle socks with skulls printed on 'em?

Well...yes. But she would've worn them under jeans. And she certainly wouldn't be heading out to CrossFit in them. Or bringing Oly lifting shoes with her.

I'm pretty sure she was inspired by the awesome Mazel Tov and Bacon socks modeled by our friends at Fight Gone Bad. I need to find her a pair that says "Sous Vide" on them.

Have a great birthday workout, M!

Paleo Comfort Foods Interviews Us

M and I were recently interviewed by Julie & Charles Mayfield of Paleo Comfort Foods -- you can check out the Q&A here.

We were flattered to be called a "Paleo Power Couple" by a real Paleo Power Couple. Their new cookbook is all kinds of awesome, and has been an object of much attention in our house since it arrived last week; the kids have picked out the recipes they want to try, and M's been busily cranking out meals from the book, from fried chicken to creamed spinach to poached pears.

M and I were lucky enough to break bread eat meat and hang out with Jules and Charles when we were in L.A. last month for the Ancestral Health Symposium. They're not only super-accomplished (they hold down full-time day jobs while also running a CrossFit gym AND writing a cookbook and maintaining a kick-ass Paleo food blog), but also incredibly smart, fun and funny. Eating the food out of their cookbook is the next best thing to chilling with this super-cool couple.

(What? You haven't pre-ordered it a copy of Paleo Comfort Foods yet? DO IT ALREADY!)

This Sucks

What luck.

It's taken over a week, but yesterday, my groin was feeling halfway decent again, so I joined M and the kids for an afternoon at the playground. We had lunch outside, swung around on the jungle gym, and found other ways to incorporate some MovNat into our play. While the kids ran around with a couple of their friends, I climbed poles and pulled myself up and over an 8-foot wall, and M worked on her jumping and balancing skills. We took turns scrambling up a big pine tree; I jumped off a high branch and landed unscathed, and helped M off the tree, too, by having her hop onto my shoulders. After a week of taking it easy, it felt good to feel healthy and capable again.

But a few hours later, as I was on my knees beside the tub giving one of my boys a bath, the other one executed a running jump into the bathroom and landed directly on my Achilles tendon. My left ankle rolled and twisted, and I hopped up in pain.

And now, I have a sprained ankle. It's not a major sprain, but I can't put weight on it without discomfort. I've been icing and elevating it intermittently today, and gobbling ibuprofen.

Whoever heard of getting injured giving a child a bath?

I hate this. A lot.

I See Dumb People

Bon Appétit recently published a piece entitled "We're Calling B.S. on the Paleolithic 'Lifestyle' Trend." The headline sounded juicy -- I love a good debate, and am open to new evidence or compelling arguments. So, Bon Appétit, fire away! What've you got?

Argument No. 1: "We will note that Fred Flintstone, patriarch of the modern stone age family, wasn't exactly trim."

Wait -- what? That's a joke? Aren't jokes supposed to be funny? Besides, the Flintstones ate like crap. Hit me with the real stuff.

Argument No. 2: "Forsaking all dairy and bread for nuts and berries to recreate a body that flourished when middle age meant 15 years old just doesn't make sense to us."

That hoary myth again? Read this. Or this. Or this. Or this. Or this. What else have you got?

Argument No. 3: "While we may not have biologically evolved all that much, our intellectual development has brought us a greater scientific understanding of the nutrients our bodies need to be healthy."

Oh, good. Although I kind of wish you'd actually clued us in on the "greater scientific understanding" that's led to significantly better health outcomes across Western civilization, perhaps I'm quibbling. I'm SO glad that Type II diabetes, autoimmune disorders and metabolic syndrome are a thing of the past, and that obesity rates have plummeted worldwide. Wait -- what? They haven't? We're fatter and sicker than ever? Hmm. That's weird -- especially with all that mysteriously unspecified "scientific understanding" and all.

Okay, Bon Appétit, I know you're saving the best for last. Sock it to me.

Argument No. 4: "10,000 years ago, food was pure nourishment, a necessity and nothing more. We now have advanced to a place where eating is more than just consumption: food is culture, history, art, and science, all on one plate. Pomegranates are Pom Wonderful!"

WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? Are you saying that avoiding processed breakfast cereals, Pop-Tarts and Pizza Hut's Stuffed Crust Pizza in favor of real, whole foods is an affront to art and history, and threatens our very cultural fabric? Because if so, I'm pretty sure you're the bullshit artist.

Also? What you said about Pom Wonderful MAKES NO SENSE. Did anyone even proofread this thing? How did a piece that says absolutely nothing -- other than "the Paleo Diet is clearly bullshit because, well...it sounds kinda weird to me" -- get published by a prominent food periodical?

My wife then interjected with an even better question -- this one, posed to me:

"Why are you paying attention to what Bon Appétit says?" M asked. "That magazine's even dumber than Cooking Light."

Friday's Workout: Super-Fran

In January, my cousin D asked to borrow my dog-eared copy of the P90X Nutrition Guide. "Sure,” I replied, “but I’m not a fan of it - especially now that I’ve gone Paleo.” I directed her to M’s food porn site, too, but didn’t figure D would go for the caveman diet. After all, we were raised on rice and noodles. She wouldn't give it up these staples based on our inane ramblings, right?

But here we are, three months later, and D’s not only thrown herself into Paleo eating with gusto, but she’s also dumped P90X for CrossFit. Oh yeah -- she’s also launched a Paleo food blog with an emphasis on Asian recipes. How’s that for jumping into the deep end of the pool?

D -- a.k.a. Fit Daffy -- is now a regular at Mad Dawg Fitness in Redwood City, but dropped in for our 5 a.m. class at CrossFit Palo Alto this morning. She picked a good day to visit.

Strength Skill:

• Weighted Ring Dips (2 sets of 5, 3 sets of 3)

I love these. I didn’t even try to load up with the same amount of weight that I did back in December, but I’m looking forward to a new PR attempt by the end of this cycle.

Metcon:

We did the sixth and final Games Open workout (a.k.a. 11.6) in class this morning:

As many reps as possible in 7 minutes using the following ladder scheme:

• 3 Barbell Thrusters (100lbs / 65lbs )
• 
3 Chest-to-Bar Pull-ups

• 6 Barbell Thrusters (100lbs / 65lbs)
• 
6 Chest-to-Bar Pull-ups

• 9 Barbell Thrusters (100lbs / 65lbs)

• 9 Chest-to-Bar Pull-ups

• 12 Barbell Thrusters (100lbs / 65lbs)

• 12 Chest-to-Bar Pull-ups...etc.

Even though I called this workout “super-Fran on steroids” last week, in the back of my mind, I figured I could perform on par with my previous Fran attempts. Fran, after all, consists of 45 (slightly lighter) thrusters and 45 (slightly easier) pull-ups. If I can crank out 90 Fran reps in (an admittedly not-very-fast) six-and-a-half minutes, isn’t it reasonable to expect at least 80 reps in seven minutes today?

Apparently not.

The chest-to-bar pull-ups did me in, along with my inability to count to 9. It wasn't hard getting my chest to touch the bar, but I had difficulty finding a kipping rhythm, and ended up muscling myself up instead of using my momentum. Worst of all: At one point, I hopped off the bar and trotted over to my barbell before realizing that I’d miscounted. I was supposed to do 9 pull-ups, but had only done 7 (‘cause 7 comes after 6, right?). “Aw, crap,” I groaned. I turned around and stumbled back to the pull-up bar to crank out two more.

In other words, I wasted more time this morning than those of you who got up to gape at two filthy-rich, unemployed strangers from another country getting hitched on television.

Result: 60 reps as RXed. I finished the round of 12 thrusters and pull-ups, but time ran out before I could clean the bar up again. The frustrating thing is that I know I can do better. (Not by much, but still.)

After our workout, the A-Team arrived to show us how it’s done. Tim, Maddie, Blake and Sean wrestled 11.6 to the ground and then beat it senseless. It looked awesome and miserable and glorious, all at the same time.

Double Your Pleasure

Remember way back when I set a personal goal of ripping out 5 consecutive double-unders without resorting to inserting single-unders between each rep? No? Dang, people -- it was just a few hours ago. Pay attention.

After the dishes were done and the kids were put to bed, I decided to squeeze in some practice. While M did Christine in the garage again (this time, she finished in 14:05 as RXed), I grabbed my Buddy Lee rope and trotted into the backyard.

It took me a while to get going, but once I learned to slow my pace and control my leg kick, whaddaya know? I actually started putting some double-unders together. First, it was two, then three, but each time I felt like I was about to take off, I was interrupted by a clumsy trip-up and/or a nasty whiplash on my arms. But then: A breakthrough.

I ran to the garage (where M was rowing up a storm) and proudly announced: "EIGHT! EIGHT IN A ROW!"

Bug-eyed and out-of-breath, I nonetheless hurried back for more. No go -- after two or three in a row, I got tangled in the rope again. But now, I knew I could do this. I tried again. And again. And again. Then: "FOURTEEN!" I was in the double-digits. I wanted to scream.

More stumbling and tripping followed, but after a few more minutes of sweaty effort... "TWENTY-ONE!"

Holy crap. After months and months of being miserably stuck at the double-under / single-under / double-under plateau, I was finally -- FINALLY! -- getting somewhere.

It was about this time that my six-year-old came tearing out into the living room, freaked out by the sounds of a whipping rope, trotting footsteps and high-pitched squeals of excitement emanating from outside his bedroom window. But I couldn't stop now. I relocated to the driveway and kept practicing.

So it was in the orange glow of the streetlamp that I wrapped up the evening session with twenty-four (YES: TWENTY-FOUR!) double-unders in a row -- with not a solitary single-under among 'em. I was so giddy that I didn't even care that the lady down the street with the dog was staring at me, trying to figure out why I was jumping rope in my pajama bottoms. (By the way, I'm starting to think that my flannel PJ pants are imbuing me with magical goal-busting abilities. Don't be surprised if I show up at the gym with 'em.)

I know, I know: You're thinking "CALM DOWN ALREADY. So you can jump rope. BIG FRIGGIN' DEAL." Well, it is to me. Tonight, I'm as satisfied as this smug, half-naked pig over here: