Digging Out of A Blizzard: 5 Lessons for Training & Life

Note: This article originally appeared in Josh Hanagarne's World's Strongest Librarian blog in 2010. Boris STILL does not own a snow blower...

Digging Out Of A Blizzard: 

5 Lessons For Training & Life

Earlier this month, I had to dig our home out of a blizzard. I don't own a snow blower. So, with two shovels, an ice chipper, and 15 hours of labor invested, I managed to clear the walks and driveway.

Nature can be an unforgiving teacher. It doesn't care whether you've been good or bad, and it can just as easily melt all your efforts away the next day as toss another foot of snow your way just to see if you can keep up. The experience provides a good analogy for training, and the lessons learned can be applied to a zen-like approach to strength goals and life. 

Lesson #1: Define Goals & Boundaries Early In The Game

Setting boundaries and goals from the git-go is a smart move, especially if there's too much to do all at once, and/or if the snow is still coming down. No, it's not rocket science, but if you don't have any kind of plan, you may end up creating a mountain of snow that you'll end up having to move later to make room for more. Having goals and realistic expectations keeps things in perspective. I enjoy training and I enjoy process, but the product is important too. Without any kind of training plan or goals, you will be one of those people that stand around the gym drinking fountain wondering what to do next. It's NOT necessary to have every set and rep mapped out weeks in advance, but there should always be a clear rationale for every session, every exercise, every set, and every rep.

"...without purpose, we would not exist. ...It is purpose that defines, it is purpose that binds us." - Agent Smith (The Matrix Reloaded) A larger purpose and sense of boundaries help us, as Dan John is fond of saying, "Keep the goal the goal". Purpose and boundaries help us better deal with the distractions and obstacles that come along because we realize that we are not defined by the challenges we face - we are defined by how we face them.

Lesson #2: If You Get Sloppy, You've Overdone It

If you notice yourself rushing, and breathing starting to become labored; if you notice yourself heaving snow with heated desperation; if you notice yourself never really straightening up between bouts of snow flinging; if you notice yourself trying to load up bigger and bigger clumps on the end of your shovel, then you've probably already started to overdo it. Your body and mind have switched to a kind of lost panic mode - it's time to dial it down. Stand up straight, breathe right, and reassess your situation. In the gym, if technique starts to suffer, it's time to rerack the weight. If you're rushing through sets to get done, you're asking for trouble. This was a hard lesson to learn personally - impromptu contests at the end of a training session when you're in a hurry to get home is ALWAYS bad news for me... Not only over the couse of a single set, but also you can see this play itself out over the course of a meso/macro-cycle as well and it isn't pretty. We feel weak because we need rest, but because we feel weak we think we need to work harder. Be willing to listen to your body when it's telling you to slow down. The first signs I need a break from my training are poor sleep, fatigue, achey muscles and joints that don't seem to recover. General a-holishness is a clear sign for me, but usually once I get to that point, I'm in some kind of stupid bezerker mode that only ends with an argument, illness, or injury. We've all experienced feeling hopelessly lost, physically and mentally, in a very metaphorical or literal way. In those times, it is common to dig deeper and drive faster, rather than retrace our steps or seek higher ground to get perspective. This phenomena, as Laurence Gonzales describes in his book "Deep Survival", is called "bending the map". Our wishful thinking can make us search for light at the end of a black hole leading to nowhere. Momentary breathers can help us gather our bearings and clear away some of the dirt we've kicked up on the journey to the present moment.

Lesson #3: Occasionally Pause To Marvel At The Beauty Surrounding You

While I was shoveling, my neighbor was doing the same. He was a machine... for an hour. During that time, a gaggle of Canadian geese flew overhead and I stopped to admire their formation and calls. A little while later I yelled a greeting over to my neighbor and mentioned it to him, he replied "Oh, there were geese? I thought I heard something...". If you are doing something, anything long term, it's easy to lose sight of the big picture and the sense of wonder and curiosity you had at the beginning. It pretty common to gradually develop tunnel vision on the road immediately in front of us. Your driver's ed instructor had some good advice; establish a "visual lead" and keep your eyes moving so you don't miss the beauty (and opportunities and dangers) all around you. Never forget your "beginner's mind".

Lesson #4: Don't Test The Limits of Your Equipment

Your snow shovel is not a spade. It is not an ice chipper. It is not a plow, nor a forklift. It is not made of 440 stainless steel. It doesn't have a fancy name or magical powers like Excalibur, Mjölnir, or Billy Baroo. Abuse your shovel and you could find yourself with a broken handle or badly bent blade and thousands of cubic feet left to go. No shovel and it's pretty much game over. 

The same thing applies to your barbell, collars, dumbbells, sandbag, and squat rack by the way; if things fall apart on you, you won't be lifting long. Invest in good equipment and take care of it. I've never had a Jump Stretch band snap on me while training and (knock on wood) hopefully NEVER will. I'll admit I'm a bit anal when it comes to keeping my stuff in good shape, but who wants something coming apart when it's over your head or face, or when you are straining like hell to move it? Respect the weights and the effort you bring to bear, or else. On the recycling bin I take to the curb every other week, there's a label detailing all the items that may be recycled - in bold letters is the message "When in doubt, THROW IT OUT." We live in a use and discard society. In general, we don't pay respect to inanimate objects and we curse them to high heaven when they don't do our bidding. We believe that if we just have enough money we'll be okay, but some things are truly irreplaceable. Your body and mind are the most essential pieces of equipment in your possession. Maintain them - they are the first and last things you'll ever own. We all want to leave our mark on the world, but here's a harsh truth: if you keel over in your driveway, no one will write John Henry-like ballads about how you died with a shovel in your hand. And if you injure yourself in the squat racks training, unless you go viral in a gym fail video, no one will even notice.

Lesson #5: The Key To Shoveling Is "Lazy Strength"

Shoveling thousands of pounds of snow is NOT a sprint. Persistence is an absolute prerequisite to success. "Slow and steady wins the race" really does apply here. If you fling every shovelful for all you're worth, it's going to be torture very quickly. There are circles that believe that limit strength is the wellspring from which all other strengths flow. That may be so, but if you can't sustain the effort needed to complete the job, it doesn't matter how impressive your one rep max is. Likewise, compensatory acceleration is great, but not the best strategy for conserving energy. Efficiency and power are not a dichotomy, but it is true that as power output increases, efficiency tends to decrease. As power output approaches maximum, efficiency suffers greatly. "Lazy strength" is about exerting just the right amount needed to finish the job. Life is not a sprint, and "Lazy strength" is the key to long, marathon efforts where the challenge is to finish well, rather than compete against others.