Training for Domination: The Frank Molinaro Approach

I look to college wrestling for inspirational stories of athletes working harder than many believe is humanly possible. They train two or three times a day, at incredible intensity, while maintain a ridiculously low weight. Iowa wrestling represents that lifestyle completely, from Gable to Zalesky to Brands. But there are also wrestlers that pop in other programs that are shining icons of that hard working philosophy. A good example of that is Frank Molinaro of Penn State. Here’s him doing a nice circuit that’s designed to take his legs to exhaustion:

It’s clear that he has done this type of session many times before, and can effectively hit the wall and go past it pretty quickly. Workouts like that are just as much mental as they are physical.

As I see it, he is an example of a guy who is aware of his weaknesses, hates them, and works his ass off to eliminate them. I like that type of honesty in self-analysis in an athlete. This interview right after he won the NCAA title this year (after falling short the year before) is a great example of the honesty and toughness that he embodies:

He stepped up the training for his last college wrestling season and went from being good to being great, dominating most of his opponents, and going undefeated. He is definitely an inspiration.

And here is the finals match from the year before that Frank lost and arguably created the “Gorilla Hulk” of the 2011-12 season:

It’s painful to watch. Dake really stepped up for this match, and made a statement.

Interval Jiu Jitsu

To improve cardio, jiu jitsu athletes will often do interval training of going hard for 20 seconds and light for 10 seconds at whatever exercise like running, kettlebells, or bodyweight stuff over and over.

In theory that simulates a jiu jitsu match. In reality, it simulates a jiu jitsu match if your technique, confidence, and strategy are all solid. Most matches at the lower ranks seem to be balls-to-the-wall non-stop with a gradual decline in intensity as both guys become progressively more exhausted. The best guys know when to relax, so that they recover properly for the bursts of intense effort needed to improve position, finish a submission, or just win a scramble.

And I’m not talking about stalling. In fact, stalling can often take up a lot of energy as well. I’m talking about relaxing whatever body parts that are not needed in the current exchange. That sounds kind of weird, but it’s the way I think about it. For example, I try to maintain a dynamic side control where I’m very heavy but completely relaxed. If my opponent decides to go crazy, I will expend energy as well to maintain the position, moving around to north-south, knee-on-belly, or even back to a bad guard that I can pass again right away. But I always try to spend significantly less energy than my opponent.

Of course, all that is easier said than done. Relaxing requires an understanding of a lot of details involved in maintaining and improving the position. If my opponent does something that makes me nervous, I’ll tense up and use energy to hold on just like I did on the first day of training as a white belt. The more I learn, the more confident I become in the fundamentals of good base, grips, posture, etc. With this confidence comes that ability to relax amid chaos.

It’s a weird balance to try to strike between the competition intensity of “win at all costs” and the need to relax at any good opportunity.

The Value of Boring Old School Roadwork

Circuit training is popular these days in preparing for judo, bjj, mma, etc. You basically pick 3-5 exercises and repeat them in a circuit at high intensity, taking timed short breaks in between. The goal (in terms of time and intensity) is to simulate a competition match. I’m a big proponent of this kind of strength and conditioning, because it’s fun. A lot of programs are effective, but not all are effective and fun. The variety of circuit training makes it fun.

Same goes for simple interval training on the track. It’s quick. It gets the job done. And in a sick kind of way it’s “fun” as well.

Okay, now to the topic of this post…

The term “roadwork” is something I’ve heard boxers (and no one else) use to refer to the old school jogging of 3 to 5 miles done early in the morning by many great and not-so-great boxers of the past. It’s boring as hell, but that’s why it’s good. I feel like in all the craziness of kettlebells, ropes, hammers, tires, etc, people might forget to train patience as well, in the quiet of the road where you are left alone with your thoughts.

From my conversations with people, the reason roadwork has been and still is popular is because so many people did it in the past and in the movies. That might seem like a ridiculous reason to continue doing it, but not to me. To me, I just think of guys like Rocky Marciano that religiously did 7+ miles per day, and dominated many 15 round fights.  Not to mention the wrestling greats such as Dan Gable.

There is something to be said about building not just the kind of toughness that gets you through an intense workout, but the kind of toughness that gets you through a long boring workout day after day after day. This prepares you mentally not just for the years of brutal training, but for the long tournament days where you may wait hours between matches.

Damn It Feels Good to be a Blue Belt

On the left is an image of the current blue belt middleweight bracket for the IBJJF European Open Jiu-Jitsu Championship. It has 55 competitors and is likely to grow to 60-70. That’s why I love being a blue belt: huge divisions.

I’ve never won a division with more than 32 competitors, but I’ve only had a couple chances to do so.

It’s probably true that any one of those 55 guys can catch me individually in an isolated match. Similarly, I can’t know for sure, but I have the confidence that I have a damn good chance to beat any one of those guys.

The challenge, however, is to beat six of them in a row.

I have two things on my mind as I prepare for the several upcoming tournaments that will have that many competitors. First, is that I’m prepared to go the distance with every guy. I have to take my cardio training to the point where I can push the pace (intelligently) with every guy and win on points. I’m not there yet, but I have a clear plan of how to get there (and it involves A LOT of interval training).

Second, I have to submit as many opponents as possible, and as quickly as possible. I truly believe that hunting for a submission from a dominant position will pay off. It will conserve my energy for the tougher matches. The drawback is that a failed submission will potentially create more scrambles, more work, and wear me out more. But winning is not everything in life, and at blue belt, I certainly would hate to be the guy that barely wins every match on points. There’s nothing “wrong” with that. Winning is winning. But I am very rarely satisfied with my performance unless I am able to submit my opponent. Perhaps that will change in the future, but for now, that’s how I feel. I would rather submit my first 5 opponents and lose in the finals, than win all my matches on points.

I don’t compete to win. I compete to do the best I can, which is why there are many matches I won that I’m not happy with, and many matches I lost that I’m proud of (because I fought my ass off).

Back Against the Wall: Overcoming Cardio Limits

I’m learning a lot about myself in the last couple years about how I best can summon the will to “survive” physical challenges. One of the things I learned is that I’m much better at overcoming in the quiet of my own mind. So, for example, for me, a 20 minute 3-mile run is about the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It requires being in extreme discomfort for about 15 minutes (the first 5 minutes are manageable). But I accomplished it several times last Spring and Summer. On the other hand, I seem to be incapable of doing the same on the mat in grappling with lots of people around me, coach yelling, uncertainty of what the goal and time are, and many other factors coming into play.

In the latter case, I feel like my back is up against the wall and every second in that state wears on me mentally until I start quitting a little, and once I start doing that, it’s over. I’m not sure I’m explaining any of this well enough, or whether people experience similar things. Of course, I’m becoming a better and better grappler, so I find myself put to the test less and less cardio-wise which in one sense is good, but in another I know that there will always be guys especially in competition that will push me to a place where all I want to do is quit. I can overcome that when I’m alone on a hard run, but I still can’t do the same on the mat.

Jared told me a while ago that it’s something I have to find inside myself: the will to overcome the exhaustion, the fear, the uncertainty. It all sounds awfully dramatic. It’s not, in the larger scheme of things. But I find the same situation plays itself out in the rest of my life in my work, in my reading, etc.

I’m not sure why my mind takes on challenges much better in isolation, but perhaps the key to my success in competition (and in the rest of my life) is in finding the kind of focus that is equivalent to isolation.

PS: I mean isolation in a positive productive sense (as in distraction-free, flow state) not in the melancholy existentialist philosophy sense.

Tabata Method for Judo and BJJ

The Tabata Method is just another one of many ways to do a “high-intensity interval training” workout. The “method” is do something at a crazy pace for 20 seconds then 10 seconds of rest (or something at a light pace), repeat for 4 minutes.

I tried it with an interval timer for 6 minutes (the approximate length of a judo / bjj match). I did four such “matches” (with about 5 minutes of rest in between). It doesn’t sound like much but it was real tough especially given that I softened up a bit in the last month of long days behind the computer.

For the first “match”, I did burpees. For the second, 32 kg kettlebell swings. For the third, I alternated between chin-ups and clap push-ups. For the fourth, I did seoi nage fits with bands. The last “match” was the toughest, given that my legs started giving out at the 2 minute mark. I kept imagining that I’m trying to pass a tough guard.

Anyway, it’s not a fun work out, but definitely a good way to help keep the cardio up and mentally toughen up a bit.

On a Treadmill to Hell

A variation of interval training is performing a workout that simulates a match. For example, I know that the matches in the upcoming jiu jitsu tournament in two weeks will be 5 minutes. I like to simulate these matches on the treadmill. A lot of people suggest more functional exercises than running. After all, sprinting is hardly a simulation of a grappling match. But I buy into the idea that Forrest Griffin describes in his Got Fight? book, that the treadmill is the ultimate tool to develop not only your conditioning but your mind through exactly this type of simulation of a match.

Basically, for most any exercise you do to simulate a match, when you get tired to the point where all you want to do physically and mentally is quit, you can’t help but slow down just a tiny bit, easing the load on your body and mind. With a treadmill, you can’t slow down. It’s set at whatever speed and incline you set it to, and it just goes. It’s up to you to keep up.

It works for me. No training session (including wrestling in high school) has taken me to a place of wanting to quit like a treadmill (partially because I hate running, but mostly because of the reason described above). I do a 7 minute match:

  • Minute 1: 10mph
  • Minute 2: 6mph
  • Minute 3: 11mph
  • Minute 4: 6mph
  • Minute 5: 12mph
  • Minute 6: 6mph
  • Minute 7: 12mph

That’s one match. I then walk at a snail’s 2mph pace for 3 minutes, and repeat for a second, third, fourth, and fifth match.

Sometimes I only do 2 or 3 matches (like yesterday). However, the rule is to NEVER quit. Even if I get a cramp, or shins/ankles hurt, or even a friend sees me and starts talking to me, I must finish that match. I’ve done this workout only about ten times in my life, and always plan on doing it twice a week, but it’s such hell, that I end up finding excuses to avoid it after a week and instead do a jiu jitsu or judo class.

I believe that success in competition requires that I get a few months of such training (twice a week) in before the tournament. I learn a lot about myself in these sessions and like in any type of hard training, I gain confidence in my cardio and “heart” for actual matches in tournaments.