This is somewhat of an addition to what I wrote last week. It wasn’t included because I had forgotten about it until after the post was finished but I can answer the question through understanding, though not comprehension.
At the first facility I trained at, I trained a man, we’ll call him Brandon, who was blinded in an industrial accident in his early 20’s. His mother found such great success training in a slow high-intensity manner that she thought it might be good for him. Now, he was far from helpless, as he was still keen on building VW Bugs and the air-cooled flat four cylinder engines that power them…by touch. Yes he built them when he had sight but he didn’t let being blind stop him from doing this activity that brought him so much joy.
However, he’s blind, so he can’t see the weights, he can’t pose in the mirror like the worst kind of dork, and he can’t act like a hardass while lifting because he’s unaware of whether or not people around him are paying attention. What are the advantages of this?
He can’t see the weights, so he trusts his trainer that he’s progressing and doesn’t get anxiety about the task at hand because of however many pounds are on the apparatus.
He can’t see himself, so his feedback for a workout well done is intrinsic. His pumped bicep in the mirror matters zero compared to how he feels as a result of the workout and also in between the workouts.
He can’t see others watching him, so he doesn’t throw the weight around. He lifts it with control and without excessive grunting, heaving, or grimacing.
These are some of the things I’m trying to get people to cultivate in the 30 day “Mirror-Less” experiment.
Comments are open; is there something I missed? If you were blind, how would you judge training success?
I was originally going to title this “Mirrors Aren’t Paleo” just for grins.
But a similar statement from Keith Thomas over at Evfit did spark an interesting thought that eventually led me to this. His statement, regarding his body shape discussion:
I value performance first and I’m interested to see what body shape emerges from my activity regime and the diet I eat to deliver the best performance, rather than building an activity regime and diet to deliver an ideal body image. (There were no mirrors in the Pleistocene, so you’d never really know what you looked like.) (Emphasis mine -S)
But really, How would your eat and train if you didn’t know what you looked like? What cues would you follow to let you know you were doing well?
Henry Rollins wrote something similar in his description of his love of strength training, titled “The Iron:”
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. (Emphasis Mine -S)
Mr. P likely did this because a snot-nosed kid would gawk and stare and perhaps whine about progress not coming fast enough…it was a psychological trick to keep Mr. Rollins from being distracted from the work at hand…getting stronger for reps. But also the metric for if Mr. Rollins was doing well was not how he looked in a mirror but how he performed (in this case, how well he took a punch).
More importantly, one need only do a google search to see how many “fitness photo” tumblrs there are of people just furiously and obsessively taking photos posed in the mirror. Things are certainly worse than when Mr. Rollins was growing up in this regard.
So I dug around the journals to see if “mirror gazing” is associated with body dysmorphia. Well wouldn’t you know it…
Results: Prior to gazing, BDD patients are driven by the hope that they will look different; the desire to know exactly how they look; a belief that they will feel worse if they resist gazing and the desire to camouflage themselves. They were more likely to focus their attention on an internal impression or feeling (rather than their external reflection in the mirror) and on specific parts of their appearance. They were also more likely to practise showing the best face to pull in public or to use “mental cosmetic surgery” to change their body image than controls. BDD patients invariably felt worse after mirror gazing and were more likely to use ambiguous surfaces such as the backs of CDs or cutlery for a reflection.
I do like that they used “ambiguous surfaces” like knives to look at their reflection. Kinda like this:
And I have a feeling this girl has a little mirror-gazing cosmetic surgery practice so as to pull the same face off so spectacularly:
The point here is that body dysmorphia has taken off and mirrors at least contribute to the dysmorphia in a feed-forward fashion.
Take it a step further: a mirror and this behavior is no different than people using their smartphones to snap 11tymillion photos of themselves until they find one that looks “good” or to have those taking their photos take shot after shot until one is “perfect.” To have that instant feedback regarding a photo being judged as “good” or “bad”, with the possible implication that everyone in the world won’t see me as a perfect human being is instantaneous.You used to have to wait at least 1 hour after you finished a roll of film to see if the shot was good and by then your emotional tie to looking “perfect” in that photo had been superceded by more pressing matters like sleep and real life.
While it’s been understood for a while now that the media’s “ideal body image” has beaten down the psyche of women (and why you end up with Dove’s “Campaign for Real Beauty“) this ideal body image in the media has started to affect men in the past decade or so. It continues to be studied and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if the Facebook/Instagram/Twitter and the obsession over getting the perfect photo so everyone on the internet won’t see your “flaws” leads to the same conclusion. Pro tip: they won’t notice your “flaws” as they’re too busy obsessing about their own “flaws.”
So I’m suggesting that a person take a 30-day mirror-less attitude so as to attempt to focus on intrinsic feelings of well being rather than external measures of well being or self-worth. It’s what I said above: How would your eat and train if you didn’t know what you looked like? What cues would you follow to let you know you were doing well? I’m suggesting that there are plenty of people who have started working out or improved their diet and got so hung up on the lack of immediate visual change that they stopped a good thing before it could really benefit them. Similarly, this is why my friends Dallas and Melissa very strongly suggest that you do not step on a scale during their Whole30® program.
Now I know you’ve got to use a mirror to make sure your hair doesn’t look like you’re in a hardcore band (or if you’re in a hardcore band, I know you have to work hard to make sure you look like you’re in a hardcore band), hence “mirror-less.” Rather this is an effort to avoid gazing at your naked torso in the mirror, flexing and doing who knows what to engage in self-judgement or ridicule. Rather, get out of the shower, put your clothes off, and then do your hair. Try to use the mirror just for grooming and checking to see if your mother would let you leave the house in the outfit…or your wife. Fringe benefits of being married, gentlemen: your own style consultatant.
Now I know for some of you this advice is as helpful as someone telling you to “eat less” when you’re trying to lose fat, hence my suggestion to focus on other intrinsic cues for how you’re feeling. I’m sure there have been times when you’ve felt like a million bucks and it had nothing to do with how you were perceiving yourself to look. You felt 7 feet tall…on top of the world. THESE are what I would suggest you focus on finding and then learning to cultivate during this mirror-less experiment.
For those of you who are extra hardcore, feel free to abandon social media during this period. You’ll both get over the FOMO (fear of missing out) and cultivate a sensitivity to these internal cues. Social media is the devil, anyway.
Finally, for those who might get itchy from doing the most muscular pose in your skivies, my buddy John Durant has already fashioned a workaround:
Almost one year ago, Sol sent me an email out of the blue:
Just wanted to say a big fan of your site – way too much garbage out there about fitness. I actually found you over two years ago when researching intermittent fasting. It was a big factor in me adopting it (and years later I still love it).
I checked it out, didn’t think too much of it (because I had researched a ton about creatine) and filed it away in the “This is cool and will likely help others” file folder in my brain.
Which means I forgot about it.
But Sol doesn’t give up. I suspect that if you’ve even done the tech startup thing to eventually get hounded by VC’s, you’ve gotten used to having the door shut in your face. Eventually you stop caring and keep refining your message. Sol has done that and then some, all the while continuing to message me along the way.
Sol, here’s the blog post I promised.
They really have solved 90% of supplement confusion. Anytime a client of mine has a question regarding supplements, I do one of two things:
Tell them the answer if I know it.
Look it up on examine.com
There is no 3; I did say “one of two things” no didn’t I?
Go to examine.com, search for a supplement, and prepare to be amazed.