New public art installation in my favorite corner of the outer beyond. Entitled “Crossroads,” it explores the intersection of American car culture with life outside the supervision of the bourgeois state. The artist used found materials, relocated them into a novel context, and modified them with a traditional blend I call “trail mix,” consisting mostly of mostly 22LR with two magazines of .308 and a few shotgun slugs.
And this heroic craft steamed far up into the foothills, 10 miles from the nearest navigable waterway, before it finally ran aground in the Marijuana Highlands.
Soviet weightlifter David Rigert was famous for his signature telnyashka, the blue and white striped t-shirt.
Originally part of the Russian naval uniform in Czarist times, the telnyashka got associated with valor in Soviet art through propaganda about the Kronshtadt sailors in the October Revolution, naval infantry who defended Leningrad, and petty officer-turned-sniper Vassili Zaitsev, hero of Jude Law’s Enemy at the Gates.
But it turns out Rigert had nothing to do with the navy. He got his famous telnyashka through a misunderstanding.
In 1972, when Rigert traveled to a meet in the Romanian port city of Constanta, he met a group of sailors who mistook him for a fellow navy man. It seems they had seen a picture of him wearing a telnyashka and assumed that he’d done his mandatory military service in the navy, like them, so they proudly presented their honorary shipmate with a sailor’s telnyashka. Rigert had to disappoint his seagoing fans with the truth–he’d actually served in an army radar unit–but accepted their gift with gratitude and promised that he would wear it in competition for them.
Rigert dominated that meet and wore the jersey again at major meets in the early 1970s, as he cemented his reputation. Soon it became part of his public image.
Most memorably, he was wearing the telnyashka at the Munich Olympics, when he set an Olympic record in the press only to “bomb out” in the snatch. At least outside the USSR, those pictures from Munich–the triumph in the press, the disaster in the snatch–probably did more than anything to make the telnyashka his signature uniform.
As Julien says, I recommend Pavel Tsatouline’s original primer on kettlebells, The Russian Kettlebell Challenge (2001), and the open-ended, unscripted training guidelines he gives there:
Train 2-7 times per week.You can vary this week to week. You benefit from a certain amount of randomness in loading.
Keep it to 45 minutes or less. Sometimes a lot less. Vary it at every workout.
Do your exercises in a “slow circuit.” For example, after a set of presses, catch your breath for a minute or two and do some swings. Then overhead squats. Then windmills. Then front squats or pistols or pullups. Whatever. Then repeat.
Vary your sets, reps, and exercises.Again, this is not a “program” from the pages of fitness magazine. Instead of a scripted routine, we are looking for controlled randomness.
Confine “grinding” exercises to just 1-5 reps. Avoid failure like the plague. For the reasons why, see Pavel’s Power to the People.
This is a pleasant and refreshing way to train, physically and mentally, and it’s very productive.
But the way people screw up strength training is that they up the poundages too fast, before they accumulate a lot of training volume with easier weights. They race ahead, only to overtrain, and then they’re back on the couch recuperating instead of getting steadily stronger. Like a baseball season, strength training is a marathon, not a sprint.
With kettlebells, you can’t do that on account of the big jumps in size. Kettlebells are the perfect thing for accumulating lots of reps with moderate poundages, without injury and in a recoverable way. Which is to say, they are the perfect thing for productive, healthy, sustainable training.
So it’s absolutely OK to stick with just a 16kg, a 24kg, and a 32kg. And if anything, it is better. Vary those other factors—frequency, duration, volume per session, exercise selection, workout pace, rep tempo—but don’t screw around with the big red button marked “intensity” (% of RM, i.e. your choice of weight). Let the kettlebells make that choice for you, with their big jumps. That really is a case of their Kalashnikov-like simplicity making them foolproof.
Let the volume do the work. Leave the intensity (i.e. the choice of weight) to the kettlebell.
One last piece of advice on kettlebell selection: get “competition bells,” not the cast iron monstrosities with the ludicrously thick handles. Those were fine in the 19thcentury, or when kettlebells were first reintroduced to North America 20 years ago. But they’re objectively inferior and obsolete, and there are plenty of affordable competition bells nowadays. If you especially want oversized handles to challenge your grip occasionally, wrap the grip in a thin towel, or soap it, or get an inexpensive fat-grip attachment. ‘Nuff said.
Also, I saw that you seem to endorse the original RKC book for kettlebells. I got a 16 kg bell, and some extra money, was thinking of buying a 20, 24, 28, 32 kg. Is it too much? Are 8kg jumps (24 and 32kg bells only) better?
Welcome, Julien. On rucking, I’m no authority, just an enthusiast. But I’ll pass along the good advice I got when starting out:
Start with 30lbs./14kg or less. With more than that, you can irritate your knees. If you need more load, wear ankle weights. According to Army researchers, you expend as much energy to move a pound on your foot as you do to carry five pounds in your pack.
Speaking of feet and knees, take good care of yours. If something hurts and gives you knee tendonitis, stop and change insoles and shoes/boots til you find the combination that doesn’t. (Spenco green insoles have a lot of fans and they’re reasonably priced. And I’ve become a big fan of jackboots.)
For gear, I find the reviews on Varusteleka very reliable. If people there all say it’s a great pack, it’s a great pack.
Nevertheless, individual build counts for something. E.g. if you have narrower shoulders than most, a given pack will fit you differently. Happily, surplus is cheap so you can afford to experiment.
For rucking, my personal guru is your countryman Sgt. Šileika of the Black Watch, who says, “strap padding means nothing, strap width is everything.” (Or words to that effect.) As always, the leathery old dog of war speaks in nuggets of golden wisdom. My favorite packs have turned out to be the ones with wide leather straps.
My starter pack remains one of my favorites for short, heavy hauls: a Czech M60 that cost $5 that I upgraded by spending another $10 to buy leather straps (actually suspenders) on eBay from a guy in Latvia.
On kettlebells, I have more of a right to an opinion, and I have a firm opinion on that question you asked. I’ll return to that tomorrow.
The poor quadratus lumborum (QL). It does much more than its share during one-arm movements like kettlebell swings and presses, where it keeps your torso rigid and facing forward. It needs to be stretched, but if you are a blocky, stiff muscle head, good luck getting into the standard “straddle stretch.” Before you know it, you blow off stretching it completely.
That’s what Jump Stretch bands are for. If you’ve knocked around the powerlifting world for more than 5 minutes, you probably think of JS bands as “accommodating resistance” for your weights.
But from their inception, JS bands have been at least as much for stretching and mobility as for resistance, and they are a godsend for stretching tissue that’s ornery or hard to get into position for. Pecs, shoulders, lats, biceps, triceps, hip flexors, and quads are all much easier and less arduous for me to stretch with bands than on a yoga mat.
But the quadratus lumborum is the poster child: normally I can scarcely get into position for QL stretches without being limited by flexibility (e.g. hamstrings in the straddle stretch) or muscular endurance (e.g. holding onto a door frame).
But if you have a band and somewhere to anchor it, you can stretch out your QL without annoyance. For comfort, use a deadlift strap for your grip so that you can hang for as long as you want without your hand tiring.
Speaking of Baltic hardmen like Hackenschmidt and Pavel, our Vilnius correspondent Sgt. Šileika has been trying kettlebells. He reports:
“Kettlebells are so cool because they have their own idea of where they have to go. It takes my whole body to control them. Just handling them is an exercise in itself.”
So true! Many years ago I had a kettlebell delivered by UPS. The guy asked me to open it and show him what was inside. He’d been weirded out by the mysterious 70-lb. thing wobbling around inside a small delivery box, like an egg standing on end, and thought maybe I was receiving illicit shipments of mercury.