2016 CrossFit Games Coach’s Review

I review the seven events of Helen Harding’s world beating 2016 CrossFit Games campaign.

• Event One.
• Event Two.
• Event Three.
• Events Four and Five.
• Event Six.
• Event Seven.

 

2016 CROSSFIT GAMES MASTERS – Event One Coach’s Recap.

One of the biggest lessons from a ‘behind the scenes’ glimpse at The CrossFit Games is the humanity in the athletes. It’s easy to place these athletes on a pedestal, and indeed, at the end of the week we literally do. But away from the cameras, media and fans, very real people are going through very real emotions. And it’s refreshing.

Over the coming days I offer a coach’s perspective on the seven events of the 2016 CrossFit Games Master’s competition for the eventual 40-44 year old winner, Helen Harding.

EVENT 1: California Club.

For time:

• 8 deadlifts (365 / 255 lb.)
• 40 GHD sit-ups
• 80 double-unders
• 4 rope climbs
• 80 wall-ball shots (20 / 14 lb.)
• 4 rope climbs
• 80 double-unders
• 40 GHD sit-ups
• 8 deadlifts (365 / 255 lb.)
• Time cap: 20 minutes

The first thing we do immediately following the event release is determine the limiting factors for Helen. This helps to shape the training in the final days leading up to the competition. We identified cardiorepiratory endurance, work capacity in the sun/heat, double under consistency under fatigue and wall ball ability as our main limiting factors.

This event was like a microcosm of H’s training. After the Master’s Qualifier, I ran a SWOT (strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, threats) analysis on the last four years of master’s events at The CrossFit Games. Four of the five movements (the exception being the deadlift) in this event had fallen under the ‘opportunities’ category. That is, we identified that with a small amount of extra work on them, we could expect a big improvement. These were things that she should be good at, but wasn’t yet. And thus, in the lead-up to The Games we had Helen doing additional work on GHD sit-ups (very high rep 2:1 work to rest intervals), double unders every second day (injuries prevented us doing a lot of these during the last 12 months), rope climb (legless and standard) exercise improvement programs twice a week, and high rep wall ball intervals once a week. Helen’s result in this event was a justification for this hard work.

Aside from double-unders as part of training warm-ups, this was the only event we didn’t practice any element of following the event announcement. We took confidence from our training.

Without specific practice to draw upon, we went into this event with a solid plan, but unsure of our exact expectations. The plan was to hit the first set of deads unbroken. We hadn’t deadlifted a lot in training, as locking out a heavy deadlift had a tendency to tweak H’s knees. Helen was concerned she’d have lost strength in this movement, but I was confident the amount of sled work she had accumulated over the last six months (another adaptation to injury), and the dynamic effort work she’d been doing for her Olympic lifting would have more than maintained the 151kg deadlift she hit in the Master’s Qualifier. The first set of GHD’s was to be performed at 80% speed. Break the first set of DU into 50/30 (or similar). Smooth rope climbs with no rest – no jump from the ground, just high reach and three clean bites to the top. Wall balls in sets of ten with a five count rest. Fast transition to the rope climb to repeat the strategy from the first four. Then one to three breaks on the DU as required. After this point, Helen had permission to go all out. The danger movements were out of the way and maxing out at this point wouldn’t damage the end result.

All movements also had a plan B that we’d mentally rehearsed, and in some cases a plan C (which we could fall back on if everything fell apart completely – comforting in this situation when you know you’re still ‘on plan’).

We allowed 45 minutes for a warm-up. This included taping etc, a general warm-up, specific warm-up, final strategy discussion and a full mental rehearsal of the event. Athletes tend to warm-up more than usual for big events, we tried not to.

In the warm-up the DU looked great. Helen has more confidence in her ability with these than I have in her ability (and she knows it!). So to see these looking sharp was reassuring. I told her she needed to keep jumping in the tunnel and immediately before the event – when her calves and achilles cool down she can often lose her DU rhythm. She’d been hitting unbroken sets of 100 without fail in training, so my lack of confidence was more a matter of my perception catching up with her abilities (and I’ve seen many an athlete lose their DU under the bright light of competition).

We hit some small sets of wall ball. They looked shaky and uncoordinated, but I knew that was standard for her first few reps so I wasn’t worried (though I would be happy to see her get through these unscathed).

A lot of the athletes in previous heats had complained about the rope being slippery. In the warm-up H found the same. She was wearing the Nano 6.0s that had been issued from Reebok, and didn’t like the feel on the rope. She tried the Nano 4s that we’d been given as part of a team in Regionals in 2015 – these are the shoes she’d preferred in all her rope climb training. The difference was immediate and we’d decided on her footwear for the event. The importance of doing all her training in Reebok’s was evident.

We warmed up her GHD sit-ups and established the hole setting (we don’t have a Rogue GHD so didn’t know her preference). They looked fast – a testament to her hard work on speed in training.

Finally we built up to the full deadlift weight, just three reps at each weight. from 60kg up to the 115kg of the event. She found the final bar really heavy and I saw her confidence dip. I told her it was actually 10kg heavier than what she’d be lifting on the floor and that I’d miscalculated the weight with the unfamiliar pound plates. This was a lie, but I knew the adrenaline of the first event and being fresh for the first set would make it feel like 40kg on the floor. I changed the subject and walked away from the bar before she could add up the plates. Her confidence (very important for H) was restored.

She was ready to go. We sat down and I got her to talk me through the event. I’d often interrupt and ask ‘if that doesn’t work…?’ and she’d tell me our plan B without skipping a beat. It didn’t matter we hadn’t physically done the event, we’d done it mentally more times than we could count.

Even with the event at the forefront of our minds, her recovery for the rest of the week also had to have priority. As she walked to the marshalling area I put a broadbrimmed hat on her head and an ice-towel around her shoulders. The air was very hot and very dry. The sun had bite. She looked like a complete dork, but she was staying cool. Her protein and glucose was pre-mixed and went out on to the competition floor with her. She knew I’d pester her after the event until she drank it. She also had a second ice towel for immediately after the event.

She marshalled and was in lane ten as the number one qualifier. I gave her a hug and told her to stick to the plan. I was confident that I’d done everything I could do and it was now in her control. Knowing I’d left no stone unturned for her made me calm. I tightened my back pack and sprinted back to the stadium, using my coach’s band to get quick access through a side door. I found the rest of H’s support crew and family and planted myself at the railings at the end of lane ten. It was important to me that I was there before H came out. I wanted her to know I had her back even though it was out of my hands now. As she came out of the tunnel I shouted ‘You got this H bomb’ so she knew I was there.

Deep breath.

The event started. She was fast to the deadlift bar, a lesson we’d learnt at Regionals where she lacked urgency. As expected the bar looked easy. She was in the top three going to the GHDs. Her GHDs were extremely fast (maybe too fast). The weight of her training took over. She was first off the GHDs by a mile, striding with purpose ahead of the chasing pack. I got emotional. I don’t know why. Maybe the enormity of the preparation caught up with me. The feeling was of overwhelming happiness and pride. Our preparation had worked. We’d both given everything to this. I didn’t have tears in my eyes but I was pretty close. This feeling remained until the end of the event.

I clambered over chairs to get to the side of the stadium so I could walk along side her as she progressed through the chipper. I don’t know why I did this, but I guess I wanted to ride the event with her. Apparently I’d walked into a restricted area. Security told me to get out, so clambered back over the chairs to the end of her lane, slow enough that I was still with her.

Her double unders were excellent. Broken in to two sets as planned. I felt relief. Others did them unbroken but I knew there was no benefit in that at this early stage. Her rope climbs were perfect. She had a one rep lead – a lot when that one rep is a rope climb. She was first to the wall ball. At the start they looked shaky and uncoordinated as they had in the warm-up. She racked up a few no reps while she found her distance from the target and adapted to bright sky. Once she found her range she busted out quick sets of 10 with a five count rest as planned. Then they got tough. Plan B, sets of five with the same rest. She had a 15 rep lead by the end of the wall ball. For a movement we’d identified as a danger movement she’d held her own.

Her transition back to the rope climb was very fast, as we’d planned. Zero hesitation. No chalking. Four reps in almost exactly the same split as her first four.

Then a slow walk back to the double-unders. She was hurting by this point, maybe 90 seconds sooner than we’d have liked. The double-unders caught up with her, and so did her closest competition, previous podium finisher (in the Open division) Carey Kepler. I thought she had enough of a lead when she started the DU to be within striking distance when she finished them. I was right, but they brought her back in to second place by maybe ten seconds. These need more work under fatigue. But I wasn’t worried. I had a lot of confidence in her GHD sit-ups. At this point I was very confident in a win.

She got to the GHD four reps behind Carey, and by 12 reps had caught up. At the top of each rep she could see the massive jumbotron screen and H watched as her rep count caught, then passed Carey. This exact moment, just ten minutes in to The CrossFit Games, was the last time H would be second on the leaderboard. Every moment after this, she was beign chased. The GHDs hurt, but she was good enough. With her eyes on the jumbotron and her peripheral on Carey, H was first off the GHD. She knew what she had needed to do and had done it.

First to the deadlift and a quick four reps. They were heavy, but half the set had been wiped off in under 12 seconds. She dropped the bar and I slowed her down and counted her in for a set of two. Shouting to H but watching her competitors. I didn’t want her doing more than she had to. I know if I’d have asked more of her she’d have given it, but she didn’t need to. Bar dropped. Another set of two then a stagger to the finish line. She crossed and dropped to all fours, crawling towards her protein and glucose like something out of The Walking Dead. Hat on. Frozen towel around her neck. In front of the fan in the stadium. Into her recovery drink while her heart rate was still peaking. She was well drilled. In three days time she’d be cashing the cheques she was writing at that moment.

The support crew was pumped. We ran to the corner of the stadium to see her being interviewed for the ESPN coverage. The perfect start.

As she headed back into the tunnel I re-traced my sprint back to the athlete area. I wanted to be there when she got back, as I was every event of the week. She walked down the road from the tunnel, chatting to the other girls with a big smile on her face. As she entered the athlete area I gave her a big hug. She looked knackered. This was probably the hardest event of the week, and it was really hot. I lead her straight to the fans to cool off in the shade. I forced her to finish the last gulp of her shake. She told me “I almost wrote myself off”. I said “good… ‘almost’ is perfect.”. I let her talk about the event for five minutes. I didn’t want to take away the enjoyment of an event win. A happy athlete is more successful than an unhappy athlete, so reliving the event was good for her mental state. Debriefing didn’t provide any immediate benefit aside from allowing her to live the full Games experience, and this was important.

After five minutes I refocussed her on the next event. Every minute of her day was meticulously planned, leading up to and following each event. Nutrition, hydration and recovery were key, and every element was carefully programmed in to her day. We both had her schedule saved as the lock screens on our phones for easy access. This was one of my tasks every night for the next day’s competition. I brought her attention back to the next items on her schedule and refocussed her. She went back to the athlete only area in the aircon. We walked past the other athletes in the ice baths, some of them there more from peer pressure than hard science. We had our routine, this wasn’t the stage to deviate from it. Down time was important, and there was time for that between events. Helen tells me she basically just switched off between events, which was exactly what I wanted. Adrenaline can’t last three days.

I headed back to the stadium, leaving her with another reminder of the next few tasks on her schedule. I watched the teens and early master’s heats for the next event, looking for anything we’d missed in our strategy meeting the night before. Mind on the next event.

First place. The perfect start.

2016 CROSSFIT GAMES MASTERS – Event Two Coach’s Recap.

12-9-6 reps for time of:

• Snatches (95-105-125 lb.)
• Muscle-ups
• Time cap: 10 minutes

When event two was released we were pretty happy. Helen is great at muscle-ups, particularly under fatigue. Aside from some shoulder issues a few months back, and recurring epicondylitis in the elbow (that is managed well with a brace), this is a movement we have been able to keep on the table.

Let me explain what I mean by ‘on the table’. As an older athlete, and with an athletic background of high impact sport (gymnastics and running amongst other things), Helen has a collection of both acute and chronic injuries. About six months ago, H and I sat down to put all the cards on the table and map out a path to the Games. Her frustration and hesitation in making a major commitment to The Games was bred from her inability to do certain movements. Remember the scene from Rocky Balboa?

“You know all there is to know about fighting, so there’s no sense us going down that same old road again. To beat this guy, you need speed – you don’t have it. And your knees can’t take the pounding, so hard running is out. And you got arthritis in your neck, and you’ve got calcium deposits on most of your joints, so sparring is out. So, what we’ll be calling on is good ol’ fashion blunt force trauma. Horsepower. Heavy-duty, cast-iron, piledriving punches that will have to hurt so much they’ll rattle his ancestors. Every time you hit him with a shot, it’s gotta feel like he tried kissing the express train. Yeah! Let’s start building some hurtin’ bombs!”

This was our situation. We knew that Helen’s strengths were absolutely world class. In 2015 she won an Open workout worldwide… not masters, allcomers. But we also knew that her weaknesses not only needed a lot of work, but that her body was incapable of the type and amount of work required. So we needed to compromise. We had to accept that there would be some things we just had to sacrifice. In an environment where weakness eradication is everything, this was a tough pill to swallow, but it was a necessity.

So we removed a lot of the cards from the table. And got to work on building some hurting (H) bombs!

I digress. Muscle-ups were on the table, and we’d done a lot of work to fortify what was already a great strength. We’d identified muscle-ups as a strength in our previous Games SWOT analysis.

The weights got heavy for the power snatches, but were lighter than the opening 60kg at Regionals that we’d done A LOT of work on before that comp. Plus, they were power snatches, which was good for Helen as full snatches had only been on the table in limited capacity, and technique for a full snatch isn’t something you can ‘cram’ on the day before the exam. Power snatches are a bit more forgiving and allowed us to fall back on natural explosiveness over perfect technique. That being said, some variation of snatches appeared in the ‘weaknesses’, ‘opportunities’ and ‘threats’ sections of our SWOT analysis.

As with every event, we identified the limiting factors immediately upon event release. These were heavy snatch consistency and cycle rate for singles. This helped us put together the training leading up to the event.

A quick thought on this. If you’re given the exam questions, you’d be crazy not to study them. Post- event release is my favourite part of programming, where we go from a general weakness bias to ultra specific ‘known event’ programming.

I need three pieces of information to program specifically for an event:

1) The event.

2) The athlete’s limiting factors in that event.

3) The date of the event.

I had these three pieces of data, so now had to simply work backwards from the date of the event (including tapering) and slot training into the remaining time. This training is a combination of exact event completion, and accessory work to develop the limiting factors.

With this in mind, for this event we completed the following:

Six days pre- Games: Event two in its entirety. H did this in the USA before I got there. She went head to head with a top Regionals level athlete who was training in CrossFit Costa Mesa where H was based. As per our plan, Helen went singles on the snatches from the start, and finished the first set ahead of the other girl who did multiples. Threes on the muscle-ups. H was leading until the final set of snatches (55kg) when she missed the first two. She was disappointed by this, but I couldn’t have been happier. These two misses set the tone for this event… respect. If she could respect the heavy bar, and never for a second take it for granted, she would hit every bar and the event should be a good one for her.

Five days pre- Games:

Range of Motion Olympic lifting warm-up for snatch, build up to 125lb then:

Every 45 seconds for 15 rounds:

1 power snatch, 1 full snatch, 125lb.

The idea here was to teach Helen to drop under the bar in her power snatch under fatigue, and also to practice full snatches in case they threw a curve ball and that was a movement requirement. Again, I wasn’t yet in the USA, and in our Skype session that night she told me she’d missed the first two full snatches, then switched to power snatches all the way. She made all the reps, but I wasn’t happy with the change. The full snatch was there for a reason, and her inability to alternate between power and full tells me that for Helen, they’re two different movements, not different degrees of the same movement. This needs work.

Four days pre- Games: Event two in its entirety. This was my first day with H, and my first opportunity to see her train in the US. I had her do this event as the final piece of that day’s training, to emulate the fatigue she’d be facing at The Games. She found it a lot tougher than her first attempt, but ended up with a faster time and no misses. Again, respecting the final bar was the difference.

Four days pre- Games: Range of Motion Olympic lifting warm-up for snatch, build up to 125lb. No problem, looked strong.

In the briefing that morning, they’d announced that athletes would be given access to risers beneath the rings. This was great news. As a smaller athlete with quick transition time this afforded us the freedom to break the muscle-ups into smaller sets if required. We needed to limit jumping to the rings because of H’s knees, so having the riser set high meant minimal jumping. Our plan B and C changed to allow for smaller muscle-up sets with shorter rests. They also confirmed the snatch was power. This was good. There was a decent run between elements, with a sprint finish. Helen hasn’t been able to sprint since I met her.

The strategy was set:

Snatches: Singles all the way. First set hands on the bar quickly (didn’t matter if they were uneven). Second set hands on the bar quickly but making sure they were even, working hard on footwork and receiving the bar with hips back which we’d need in set three. Respect the third set.

Muscle-ups: 12 (3s), 9 (3s), 6(4/2 or 3s 6). Plan B was to finish each set with 2/1 instead of 3. Plan C was to go to quick singles.

We were confident leading in to this event. Helen had recovered well from event one of the competition. She was well hydrated and fuelled after following a meticulous set of guidelines we’d developed for the day.

45 minutes before marshalling for the event I met H in the warm-up area. I’d watched the teens (particularly the 16-17 year old boys who were most closely matched to Helen’s ability) and hadn’t learnt anything new. We knew there was a lot less to warm-up than in event one, so we took our time sitting in the shade and mentally rehearsing the event while H taped up and put on her shoes etc. We went through the Range of Motion Olympic Lifting warm-up, then established the number of risers need for the muscle-ups – two. She hit three muscle-ups. They looked effortless. We didn’t need to do any more. We built to the final snatch weight, hitting three quick singles at each weight, with only two at the final weight. She was ready.

Five minutes until marshalling. We got back into the shade in front of a fan. Broad brimmed hat on. Ice towel around her shoulders. Mental rehearsal of the event. Helen talking me through the strategy one rep at a time. Autopilot. Just how I like it. Repeating what we’d done many many times over the last week. The common theme, respect the first two heavy snatches.

Athletes marshal. Leader’s lane ten. We hug. Routine. “Respect the first two” were my final words. Tightened the backpack straps, sprint to the stadium to get there before her.

Planted myself at the end of lane 10. Nath (Hus-bomb) and Jane *H-mum) look concerned… “How is she?”. ‘Good’, I smile. I don’t interact much with her supporters and family before or during an event. My mind is focussed on other things. I hope it doesn’t come across as rude, but I’ve got a job to do. They understand. My only interaction is a nod of thanks as they sacrifice their position on the fence for me. Pole position.

Helen runs/hobbles out to the field. Broad brimmed hat on. Ice towel on. Looking uncool but feeling cool. She looks up and I smile, not at her, but at the fact that she’s obviously more relaxed going in to event two. It’s easy to let The CrossFit Games pass you by, but she had taken this moment to find familiar faces in the crowd, and I knew from that moment that this occasion wouldn’t simply pass her by. She was living the experience.

She jogged to the muscle-ups. Set up her risers. Put a small block of chalk at each bar station. The little things.

“Athletes, one minute”.

“30 seconds”.

“10 seconds”.

“Stand by…”

By two reps in I knew something was wrong. I’m so in tune with how she moves that I knew something wasn’t right. “C’mon H Bomb” I say under my breath. “Get your shit together”.

She wasn’t moving right. She was slow. Her time between lifts was double what it should have been. Her first set had been so fast in training. My mind raced. Injury? No sign of anything.

She told me later that she was lifting in a hole. Literally. She dropped the bar after her first snatch and it bounced at 90 degrees straight back into her shin. A 25cm strip of missing skin provided the evidence. The bar bounce was inconsistent. It took her half the set to adapt. She was still slow, but was starting to regain control. Later, I had flashbacks to my first Regionals in 2010 at Randwick Racecourse in Sydney – lifting on flimsy rubber mats laid over horse shoe divets. Maybe we haven’t actually come that far!

Her first set of snatches was almost 20 seconds slower than in training. Bear in mind, that during the event I didn’t know what had gone wrong.

The first set was done. H sat somewhere in the top six. Poor return for light weight fast cycling barbell movements that are her forte.

Muscle-ups next. Easy sets of three. But they didn’t look right either. I never discussed these with her, but I think her mental state was still recovering from the snatches. Anyway, she hit the lead, but a cloud still hung over me with the impending snatches.

Jog to the bar, roll it forward, load the plates.

This was more like it. Fast. Consistent. She was out of the hole. Literally. The bar was doing what it should and so was H. Even with a heavier bar, the second set was cycling much faster than the first. I felt better. I’m sure she did too.

Jog back to the muscle-ups. CrossFit royalty Annie Sakamoto was close behind. H switched to plan B as she fatigued. Shorter sets. deviating from plan A wasn’t a failure. That’s what plan B’s for, so you can change strategy without it impacting your mental state negatively. The perception is “I’m still on plan”.

Muscle-ups finished. Two horse race. H and Annie.

Annie was back to the bar before Helen had finished the plate change. Annie’s lane was immediately to Helen’s right, my left, and slightly in front of H. Plate change completed.

Stop. Compose. Respect. Coach’s heart in throat. This was the key moment. Respect.

H made her first lift. Mini, almost imperceptible fist pump from the coach. Annie made hers just seconds later. I urger H to keep her blinkers on. If she tried to race Annie and deviate from her abilities I knew she’d lift her hips in the first pull and miss the bar forward. It was too heavy for mistakes.

Helen 2. Annie 2. Helen 3. Annie 3. And so it went. The blinkers were off, for both athletes. They were both completely aware of the other and I was watching them both. I could see they were both right at their limits. They were resting every second they need to make their lifts. Not a second more, not a second less. Teetering. The blinkers were off. They were both pushing their limits and flirting with failure. Taking risks. But neither of them missed a lift.

Their splits were identical for the snatches. Helen’s five second lead entering the last set was the only thing that kept her in front.

Helen 5. Annie 5. Helen 6. Turn, run to the rings. Annie 6. Turn, run to the rings.

H’s transition was perfect. Arrive at the rings, jump. No time for chalk. We had more plans for this final set of muscle-ups than the rest of the event combined. Plans A, B, C, D…

One rep in her mind was on plan A. Unbroken. Two reps in it switched to plan B, four and two. And that’s where it stayed. Annie jumped to the rings as Helen locked out her second rep. Annie had chalked up, gifting H an extra rep lead. Helen 3, Annie 1. Helen 4, Annie 2. Helen dropped from the rings. Annie didn’t. Annie 3. One rep in it. Helen back on the rings. H was pushing right to the edge of her limits again. Annie 4. Helen 5. Annie 5. Helen 6. Drop, run… but not fast enough. Annie 6. Drop, sprint… fast.

You can run a long way in the time it takes someone to do one muscle-up. In Helen’s case, about ten metres. It was hers to win… but Annie’s to steal. I was leaning over the rails shouting at Helen and making ‘COME HERE’ gesticulations. The crowd went bonkers and warned Helen of her rapidly diminishing lead. Helen responded, and for the first time since I’d met her, sprinted.

Later, she said to me. ‘At least I know I can sprint’. She also told me she’d thought about it a few months ago. “If I was trying to escape an attacker could I sprint?”. She genuinely didn’t know. She could sprint. Fast enough anyway.

Another event win. The perfect day one. 200 points. Interview for ESPN. Tightened the backpack straps and sprinted back to the athlete area so I’d be there in front of her as she walked the road from the tunnel. “C’mon, finish your drink H”… then with business out of the way… Smile. Hug. Good job. Five minutes of letting her enjoy the moment, then mind back on the game. What’s next? Recovery. Eat.

Then home. Helen crashes on the couch. I open my laptop to put together the schedule for the next day. Then I wash her shaker and put her ice-towels in the freezer to re-freeze. We learnt from day one, we’d need an extra towel for day two. H-Mum roasts a chicken and steams sweet potatoes – in containers and ready for the next day.

Big dinner, with me basically forcing Helen to eat. I must be really annoying, but I don’t care.

After dinner, we do a full walk through of the next day. Tracing the step’s we’ll walk. First we do a general walk through, ticking off the equipment she’ll need for each event as we go. Bag packed.

Then we hit the coach and go through strategy for the next two events. Full mental rehearsal. Rep by rep. Plan A. Plan B. Plan C. Standard.

Bed time. I sit in bed for half an hour rewatching the ‘Bern Run’ event with the Yoke walk from the previous year’s CrossFit Games. I study Sam Brigg’s performance. How she ascends. How she decends. Her techniques. Her pacing and run splits. Gathering data for the next day.

Big day tomorrow. Good start.

2016 CROSSFIT GAMES MASTERS – Event Three Coach’s Recap.

Event three. Running. Gulp.

4 rounds for time of:

• 600-m berm run
• 20 burpee box jumps (18-inch box)

Time cap: 20 minutes
Immediately following Helen’s victory in the Master’s Qualifier, we conducted a SWOT analysis on the previous years’ Masters events at The CrossFit Games. The style of competition evolves through The Open, Regionals, Master’s Qaulifer and Games. Examining previous years of Games events revealed a worrying trend – a strong bias towards running.

When we saw the release of event three, this bias was confirmed.

The risk versus return of including a lot of running in Helen’s day-to-day programming meant that this movement was off the table. Knee issues exacerbated by running would have too much of a negative impact on her other training.

We’d put off running for as long as we could, but there came a point after Regionals where we just couldn’t avoid it any more. I started to program oxidative energy system biased running into Helen’s training. Her first session was at a running track. In a series of 90 second intervals she was bested by her running partner (Jules) by over 50m each interval. She felt like she was dying. There was no rhythm.

The problem as I saw it was two fold. Firstly, she’d forgotten how to run. Secondly, she was reluctant to evenly load both legs. Both these factors resulted in an uneasy and very inefficient running technique. She had the cardiorespiratory fitness (in spades), but the pure inefficiency of her technique meant that the energy expenditure was through the roof. She would have to work a lot harder than her competitors to maintain the same speed.

As with any skill, our plan was to improve it through repetition. We rarely ran more than 900m at a time. Over the weeks between Regionals and The Games we maintained this 900m, but gradually ramped up the intensity. As her familiarity with the movement returned, so did her efficiency. Her 900m loop alternated days with double-under practice in every warm-up. She started to look like a runner again. She was beginning to remember, and I started to feel like she could hold her own… not excel, but hold her own.

Over the weeks Helen started to enjoy the running again. She’d come a long way from feeling like she was dying (only four weeks before).

Bear in mind that H has a strong running background. At her best, she was an excellent endurance runner, and a good sprinter with very good acceleration. So at some stage in the past she had possessed the tools. They had just become blunt and rusted. We were beginning to sharpen and polish the blade.

Once a week, I programmed resisted sprint work for H. These were very high intensity, short duration, long rest, max effort sprints. Never more than a minute work to never less than four minutes rest. Prowler pushes, sled drags, incline work… and stairs. She did one session on Jacob’s Ladder, a 242 step climb in King’s Park. This was part of our goal for maximal exposure to multiple elements. This was a major part of our training between Regionals and Games event release – as broad an exposure to multiple modalities as possible. I’ll talk about this more when I review event seven.

Jacob’s ladder was an experimental session. A reconnaissance mission. What worked? What didn’t. Running single steps. Running double steps. Walking double steps. Descending strategies. Using the railing or not. She learnt a lot from this. She learnt that two steps at a time worked best, and that her descent was slow and laboured. This concerned me. Not only does a slow decent open the door to our competition, but it also increases the eccentric loading on the quads, leading to increased muscle damage and soreness. This would have to be remedied before a major three day competition where repeatability of effort was paramount.

After the Jacob’s Ladder session Helen didn’t seem overly decisive either way. I took that as a win. She wasn’t excessively optimistic, but she wasn’t pessimistic either. But the next day, almost as an after thought, she did mention something interesting. A few years ago, she had come second in a major public sporting event, the ‘Step up for Multiple Sclerosis’. The event? A 1103 step race to the top of Perth’s tallest building. Second place. Off no specific training.

Again, this demonstrated she had the tools, they just needed sharpening.

As with every event, my first task upon event release was to determine her limiting factors. For event three, these were running ability, work capacity in the heat/sun, cardiorespiratory endurance and burpee box jump coordination.

By this stage, there was little we could do about running ability. She was by now well entrenched in the California sun, and I had her completing every session in the full sun, with additional high volume low intensity work for extra acclimation. Immediately following the Master’s qualifer I’d reviewed by uni notes and the literature on heat acclimation (the majority of which covered triathletes which I figured provided a suitable comparrision), so we were well prepared in this respect. Her burpee box jump coordination would come very quickly (already a strength) and we’d be using this as supplemental cardiorepsiratory conditioning work.

Let me expand on that last point. Helen was ready for The Games three weeks out. Her preparation leading up to those three weeks had been excellent and very very difficult. We had to peak early, because being prone to injury meant we needed to have a buffer to prevent coming in underprepared. So, aside from event specific training, the goal for the final weeks was maintenance of all elements of fitness. Once the events were known (as I do when programming for athletes in all levels of competition), we used event-specific elements as her cardiorespiratory training. In this way, we’re targeting not only the trainable elements of her performance, but also the practiceable elements (coordination and skill). We were ‘chunking’ targets of her training together to get multiple benefits without multiple bouts. This allowed us to half the volume while doubling the benefit. Burpee box jumps were one such element. We trained these in isolation at the end of training sessions (in the sun of course) in glycolytic (2:1 work to rest) interval patterns.

Aside from event one, event three was the event we did the smallest amount of specific training for. Risk>reward. Four and six days out we did the burpee box jump intervals. That was it.

Day two started with a huge element of the unknown. Helen had no idea how her body would hold up to this event. The confidence of two event wins on day one had absolutely zero carry-over to event three. We’d done full event briefings on the couch the night before, so we knew the plan.

In the event briefing they revealed the run course. It wasn’t too bad. There was less flat running than there could have. We wanted as much step and hill based work as possible to level the playing field a bit and allow Helen’s exceptional lower body stamina to compensate for the unknown of running. They also revealed that the burpee box jumps could be step-up. This was to provide a major strategy piece that I’ll discuss shortly.

Our routine was set. Athlete brief, Helen gets a coffee and sits drinking it as we both watch the teens complete the event that H will soon have to. After the 16-17 year old guys finish, we have a play with some ascent and descent techniques in the stadium, amongst the spectators that H will soon perform for. Her ascents look good. The steps are wider than normal steps (and much wider than at Jacob’s Ladder), but of the three or four variations of ascent we try, a fast walk (almost run) up two steps at a time with handrail assistance looks best. In fact it looks really bloody good. It’s fast, and I can see it’s sustainable for her. We play with descent techniques. We settle on a ‘skip’ down single stairs, where one foot leads every time, rather than a standard alternate foot lead. This looks good too. For the first time I have a glimmer of confidence (not that I had let H see more of my previous pessimism than I thought was beneficial). I think H gets this glimmer too. I start to think she can finish in the top half of the field and minimise some of the damage of this event.

An aside. I think pessimism and paranoia are important for a coach and an athlete. Note that these are not the same as lack of confidence. That feeling of being ‘behind the eight ball’ ensured that we entered the competition over prepared, a comment I made to Helen numerous times in the lead up to The Games when she asked if a certain training element was actually necessary.

45 minutes pre-marshalling we begin the warm-up. Routine. Repetition. Predictability. The overriding feeling between us is of the unknown. We just don’t know what’s going to happen. I ask Helen to run 200m. She says she doesn’t want to. We settle on 100m. In training I’d have insisted, but this wasn’t the time to introduce any negativity. Some of the other girls were running 400m repeats in the sun. We let them.

I told you I’d discuss the strategy options that the burpee step-up allowance afforded us…

We found a quieter corner of the warm-up area away from the other girls in H’s division. We set up to play with some burpee box jump techniques. We already knew that when on the ground, stepping up and down was fast and efficient for H, but the allowance to step up on to the box introduced a new question.

I had Helen do five reps with a jump and five reps with a step. I filmed them both and we huddled around my phone to examine them on split screen, Helen racing Helen. You can check out the exact split screen video on our Instagram page.

Over five reps, the ‘step-up’ technique was half a rep faster. It was a lot more energy efficient and had a much lower risk of ‘no reps’. Over the 20 reps of each round this would equate to a two rep advantage. Over four rounds, ‘stepping Helen’ would be ‘jumping Helen’ by eight reps.

REMEMBER THIS. I’ll come back to it.

We sat down for our mental rehearsal of the event. The plan was to go out very easy for the first round. I wanted H at a 5/10. I didn’t want her to get dragged out by a sprint start, but I also wanted her to be in touch with the middle of the pack. We talked about placing through the event – end of the first round I didn’t care where she was placed as long as she wasn’t hurting. In the second round I didn’t want anyone to overtake her, but wasn’t concerned if she didn’t pass anyone else. In the third and fourth rounds I wanted her to hunt down the person in front of her, pass them, then hunt down the next person. We knew she could hold a blisteding burpee box jump pace even under fatigue. The run/climb was the unknown. I’d be planted half way up the first climb to talk to her every round.

The dialogue was predictable. Me asking Helen to talk me through the event. Helen talking me through it. Me interrupting with ‘what if…’ and ‘what about…’. Plan A. B. C. Plans established as well as we could given the massive unknown in front of us. Helen’s confidence wasn’t high, but a watertight strategy helped to build it.

Out of the shade. Hat one. Ice towel on. Post exercise drink mixed and in tow. Athletes marshal. Lane ten. Hug. The last thing I always say to her is the single most important message and the one I want her to remember. ‘Be smart early’.

Tighten the backpack straps. Sprint to the stadium. Take advantage of the athlete WiFi as I run to message the support crew on the way. “I’ll be next to the first climb. Come join. She’ll need the support in this one.”

I plant myself at the first climb. Right on the fence. Close enough to reach out and touch her as she comes past.

Athletes enter. One minute. 30 seconds. Ten seconds. Stand by. I count down from five in my head. The beep fires before I get to zero. At the end of the first 50m flat run I feel better. Helen’s third last. But not by far. ‘Good’ I say to absolutely no one. She approaches the steps towards the back of the pack.

Here she implements another piece of strategy we’d discussed. I’d told her than the American’s would all run on the right side of the steps, to the right of the railing. Habits formed by a lifetime of driving on the right die hard. As we’d planned, Helen went left. And passed a quarter of the field on the first climb. The ascent looked good. As she ran past me I shouted “EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY”. Now was the time to lose the race, not win it.

First hill climb. She held her own. First descent down the hill. Better than expected. First step descent. The ‘skipping’ technique worked well. Using gravity.

Back on to the field. Middle of the pack. Perfect. Plan A. Not on the commentators’ radar.

High in the stadium I stalked her as she ran the length of the field. Her on the grass, me in the bleachers dodging spectators. I drew adjacent to the box as she reached it, side by side but 80 metres apart. She passed at least ten girls on that first set of box jumps. Forgot to flip the box at the end of the set. Got called back to do it. Out of no where she was in the top five starting round two. The commentators took notice. Step ascent number two. Keep left. Dan: “EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY”.

I reset my expectations. Top five? That would be incredible.

I again chased her down the field. Second set of burpee box jumps. Nearly identical. She was one second slower, but she remembered to flip the box, so there was a net gain of five seconds. She was accelerating. Her flat run speed now matched her opposition. The playing field had been levelled on her weak element. They couldn’t compete on the rest.

Up the steps. FAST. Not slowing. My confidence built as her speed did. “EASY EASY EASY” was replaced with. “Seven out of ten, you can start to hurt”. At the end of the third climb she hit the lead. My climbing confidence mixed with creeping disbelief. This was one of her two danger events.

I retraced my stadium run. This time she beat me to the box. As I ran I passed one of the other Aussie coaches. ‘Don’t know what you were worried about’ he quipped. I smiled. “She’s a confidence athlete. No fucking way they’re catching her now”.

It was true. Give Helen the lead and clear water and the race is hers.

Dropped two seconds on the burpees. That’s one tenth of a second per rep. Faultless execution. Extended her lead on the burpees and uphill. Lessened her lead on the descent. The chasers caught her, but the burpees drew her away. Each round was predictable and perfect.

Final lap. Same pattern. Carey Kepler, Games veteran and previous podium finisher drew level at the bottom of the berm, then passed her on the run to the box. I wasn’t worried in the slightest. H was in a different league on the burpee box jumps. They locked out the first rep at the same time. Then Helen steamrolled her.

I know Helen as an athlete better than I know myself as an athlete. But I was still verging on disbelief.

Remember the split screen video H and I huddled over in the warm-up?

Helen won that event by five reps.

You’ll remember than stepping instead of jumping netted her an eight rep advantage.

Without that five minute session in the corner of the warm-up area, she’d have come second by three reps, and would have been in a fight with third and fourth place.

Our Games campaign was scattered with these one percenters.

I ran from my place on the fence towards the finish line. The rest of H’s support crew had a head start. First I passed H-Mum and H-usband. SwannCat took a bit more work, but soon I was in third place. But Helen’s kids were more of a problem. Em and Charlotte had taken off like blonde rockets to get close to mum. I was running on euphoria, weaving concrete poles and spectators as I chased them down. I passed Charlotte first, pulling her hat down over her eyes. One to go. I caught Em, tearing her hat off her head completely and throwing it behind me. The race was mine.

We waited for H’s interview. It never came. They’d run out of questions.

Tighten the straps. Sprint to the athlete area. Waiting at the end of the road. She walked out of the tunnel 100m away. I could see two things. Her smile and her hatless head. She got within earshot. “HAT ON”. I barked. Business first. Don’t get complacent. With business out of the way, my smile joined hers. “What the fuck?!” I asked. She smiled wider. So did I. We hugged. “That’ll do”, I said into her right shoulder.

As we sat in the shade in front of a fan H told me how much she enjoyed it. It reminded her how much she used to love running. It planted a seed, and, injury allowing, I think she’ll be doing a lot more in the future.

That was our favourite event of the weekend. From a pessimistic sense of the unknown to surprise and elation. In one crazy 15 minute window.

We enjoyed the moment. Helen talking a million miles an hour and reliving the event. Me nodding and grinning like an idiot.

Then we re-focussed. The next event would be our best of the weekend. Confidence was sky high for that one. But until then there was a schedule to stick to, and boxes to tick.

2016 CROSSFIT GAMES MASTERS – Events Four and Five Coach’s Recap.

Our strongest event and our biggest danger event wrapped together in one 10 minute block.

Event 4:

For time:

22 toes-to-bars
22 clean and jerks (65 lb.)
80-m sprint down
80-m sprint back
Time cap: 4 minutes
Event 5: (five minutes after event 4)

1-rep-max squat clean
Time cap: 5 minutes
Let’s start with event four. Our only concern was the sprint. The sprint finish with Annie in event two of the competition at least told us that H COULD sprint, but in an even start foot race we were still unsure.

But that wouldn’t matter.

Toes to bar are Helen’s jam, and her fast cycling light barbell work is just as good. There really was no downside here. She would be blistering.

We knew that any lead going in to the sprint finish would be worth its weight in gold. You can run a long way in five seconds, and over 160m of sprinting, five seconds is an eternity.

The limiting factors we identified for Helen in this event; sprint ability (not trainable for fear of injury, should be negated anyway), grip stamina and clean and jerk cycle rate. The latter two weren’t really limiting factors for Helen, they were limiting factors for everyone. We were grasping at straws trying to find something to work on! Looking for every tenth of a second.

Our training for this event reflected the pursuit of these fractions of a second.

Six days out from competition Helen was training on her own at CrossFit Costa Mesa in the USA. I was still back in Perth, Skyping her twice a day (her morning then my morning). She was loving the freedom of being a full time athlete. So t-minus six days I had H take 15 minutes for six attempts at the fastest 10 reps of power clean and jerk (65lb) she could do.

H has always thrived off this sort of thing. High intensity, low pain, fast. Racing herself. Filming the ten reps, watching them back. Looking for ways to move faster. Push press? Push jerk? Straight from overhead to the ground? Overhead then back to the ground via the hips? Refining technique. Building speed and greasing the pathways of the skill.

From memory, her fastest set was about 25 seconds. That’s two and a half seconds per rep. Fast.

A day later she did the full event four without the run sprint. She also did event five straight after (but I’ll get to that later).

Event four was an event we could practice without too much downside. Low injury risk, low overtraining risk. It was all good.

The 22 toes to bar were unbroken. No surprises here. She’s great at this movement, but a popliteus injury (which needed two cortisone injections in the weeks leading up to The Games) had meant that she couldn’t ‘snap’ her knees to extension rapidly. This was obviously a major limiting factor in our ability to finish the second pull in the Olympic lifts, but also limited her toes to bar speed. One of the quadriceps muscles in the rectus femoris. It’s a biarticulate muscle, which means it runs over two joint, the hip and the knee. It creates flexion at the hip and extension at the knee – the two movements required in toes to bar.

The knee injury and the body’s natural instinct to avoid pain were ingrained in Helen’s movement patterns. When H sent me the video of that practice session I could see she didn’t have the edge, and she could feel it too. I’m sure it wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone else, but she would probably lose a rep over the set of 22. You can run a long way in the time it takes to do one rep…

Her transition from toes to bar to clean and jerks was fast. The barbell was set up right next to the toes to bar to create a worst-case-scenario for the grip. Fast 22 clean and jerk, the last five got very grippy and surprised her. The final few reps slowed slightly but were ok.

Great first attempt, our confidence was justified. Hard to beat.

By the time her next training for this came around I had joined Helen. It was the Saturday before The Games. Usually we’d be deep in taper at this point, and though the volume was way down on usual, there was more to be gained from further event specific practice. We both agreed that it would be better to go in 95% tapered and 100% prepared than 100% tapered and 95% prepared.

We were three days pre-comp, now at CrossFit Southbay.

Again H did the event in it’s entirety. No problem. I told her to relax her grip more when the bar was overhead. It worked. Grip was no longer a limiting factor. She took seven seconds off her time from her first practice event – an eternity. This time she did do the 160m sprint too. At about 75% pace. Just to see what it felt like, and to give a better precursor to event five which we once again completed straight after.

At the end of this session we had another play around with cycle rate for the clean and jerks. You’ll remember she’d built up to a 25 second set three days ago. After further refinement we got to 19 seconds – a net 13 second gain over 22 reps.

The best technique was power clean into push press, pull the bar down hard to the high hang position and slam it into the thighs (to save the grip), then to the ground. The speed of this movement (it was fast) meant that H’s arm’s were still extending when the bar contacted the ground, making it look like she was driving it into the ground and bouncing (an illegal technique). We discussed this and I warned her it would need addressing. So we did. It looked sharp.

We posted a video of H’s fastest ten on Instagram, The CrossFit Games shared it. People initially thought it was sped up. You could only tell it wasn’t by the non superhumans in the background of the video moving at normal speed.

In the end, CrossFit’s sharing of the video caused a distraction, with H wondering if it was giving her opposition inside info. But it didn’t matter. It was great for her confidence. And with Helen, confidence is key. Net gain.

She was SO ready for this event.

So to event five.

From the event we expected to be her best of the weekend, to the event where we were trying to minimise damage.

I very rarely have Helen squat in training. Her body and injuries just can’t handle it. I limit her squatting to movements where she needs it to develop motor control, not strength. So I’ll have her do wall ball (because they’re a skill she needs to develop), and full snatches (irregularly), and overhead squats (irregularly). But not front squats or back squats. They’re off the table. Risk>reward.

Instead we spend A LOT of time on the prowler and sled. Slow forward drags to build her posterior chain and fast backward running to build her anterior chain. Low impact, no eccentric loading. As much of the benefit as we can find without the downside.

It works pretty well, and Helen is regularly surprised at the leg strength we’ve been able to maintain (and even build) with these training strategies.

So her legs were strong, but she hadn’t squatted heavy. And at 60kg, she didn’t have bodyweight in her corner.

In the Master’s Qualifier H deadlifted 151kg. So she’s very strong. But this was her lowest finish in that competition. There are some strong girls.

Helen’s max was 87.5kg. But she’d VERY rarely ever cleaned more than 80kg. Again… risk>reward.

The limiting factors for this event? Squat clean strength and heavy squat clean consistency. Our final six days of training would reflect these. The time for caution had passed. We had to roll the dice here and get some heavy cleans done. The equation flipped. Reward>risk.

Six days out. The clean portion of the Range of Motion Olympic Lifting Warm-up. The exact same thing she’d be doing in the warm-up area on the day. Building habit, routine and predictability. Then, every minute for ten minutes, one clean at 80kg – our planned opening weight. She sent me the video of her last lift. No problem. Looked strong. This was to be our opener. She’d go on to not miss this weight once in training. In fact, she didn’t miss a single clean at any weight I asked of her in training. Confidence built.

For the last six months we’d never gone heavy on the legs two days in a row, but we were running out of time and we needed to know what effect event four would have on H’s clean. So five days out, event four, straight into event five. She was still training solo at this point. I capped her at 85kg – didn’t want her going heavier. Three lifts. 80, 82.5, 85. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Four days out… Olympic Lifting Warm-up, then build to an 80kg clean. Exactly what we’d be doing on competition day. Easy. Looked good.

Three days out… Olympic Lifting Warm-up. The time to go heavy was over. Then we played with weights. The pounds to kilos conversion was clumsy. Over that week H and I spent many minutes scratching our heads as we looked quizzically at pound laden bars. We got pretty good at it by the end, but I needed her to have no doubt as to what she was doing. So we spent 20 minutes. Loading the bar, unloading the bar. I taught her to lift the plate as she pulled it on, saving seconds and frustration. We did that event time and time again, minus the lifts. Just loading the bar, me saying ‘lift’, adding weight, me saying ‘lift’, adding weight, me saying ‘lift’. Then I’d strip the bar and we’d start again. Load. ‘Lift’. Load. ‘Lift’. Load. ‘Lift’. Strip. Again. And again. And again. One percenters. She could do it with her eyes closed.

The night before day one. On the couch. Full from dinner. Event walk through.

Event four was simple. Fast toes to bar. Fast clean and jerk. Fast sprint. Unbroken.

Event five was a bit more complex. It went a little something like this…

We wanted three good lifts. We were hoping for four. First lift. 175lb. Second lift 185lb. Third lift 195lb. Fourth lift. 200lb.

This was plan A. But guess what? We went a little deeper. My notes for this event went something like…

First lift: 175lb. Bar (35) + 140 = 45 (blue)+25 (green) each end.

Second lift: 185lb: Add 5lb (blue) each end.

Third lift: 195lb: Take 5lb (blue) off each end and replace with 10lb (white).

Fourth lift:

Plan A: She makes the third lift. 200lb: Add 2.5lb (green) each end.

Plan B: She misses the third lift but we think she can make it. No change, 195lb repeat.

Plan C: She misses the third lift and we don’t think she can make it. 190lb: Take 10lb (white) off each end, replace with 5lb (blue) and 2.5lb (green).

We had a good plan, and two back-ups. This gave us confidence. Removed uncertainty.

If I had to guess how many times we verbally ran through our plan A, B and C for this event, I’d have to ay at least 50. To Helen’s credit she never batted an eyelid or questioned my insistence that we do this. She just complied with my obsessive insistences. We worked well together. #teamhardingwilliams

Up at 5.30am. Bacon and eggs (H choking down each mouthful… “I don’t like eating this early” she grumps). Made a smoothie to drink at 8am as per the schedule I’d provided her for the day. Drive to the stadium. Athlete briefing.

Event four was pretty standard. There was a decent run between the toes to bar and the clean and jerk, which would give the grip a rest but would require speed. Other than that, no problem. Start at the ‘chess piece’, run to the bar, 22 toes to bar, run to the barbell, 22 clean and jerk, turn around a sprint 80m, run around the marker and run 80 metres back, jump over the bar, cross the finish line. Simple. We had this one!

I’d got in trouble on day one for asking a question in the first briefing (only athletes could ask questions), so when they covered event five I prompted Helen ‘Ask them what plates are available’. She asked, they gave an unhelpful answer… about ‘400 pounds’. So after the briefing, we diverted across the corner of the competition floor and I snapped a quick photo of the plates laid out ready for the event before security removed us from the field. Everything from 0.5lb up. Those plates were tiny… going much lighter than we’d expected. I tossed Helen one of the 0.5s. “Pfft, light huh?!”. I was planting a seed. I had an idea, but I needed to check something first. We walked back through the tunnel into the guts of the stadium. “How would you feel about lifting half a kilo more each lift H-Bomb?”. “Yea”, she shrugged. “Ok cool, hold that thought”.

We sat in our regular spot in the back row to watch the teens. I turned on my mobile data to confirm my plan. I brought up the scoreboard for the previous year’s event – specifically the thrusters ladder. I tilted my phone towards H. ‘Yep’. Every lift was in multiples of fives. Nice round numbers. 160, 170, 185, 200, 205. With a field of the top 20 athletes in the world, the margins would be close, and tied results would be common. The plan changed. Helen would load for her opening lift by FIRST putting a 0.5lb plate on each end. Then she’d stick with the plan as we’d discussed. But now, she’d be lifting 176, 186, 196…

H went back to the athlete area. I stayed to watch the teens, looking for anything we’d missed. Anything they and their coaches had thought of that we hadn’t. There wasn’t anything.

Warm-up. General then specific. H felt great about the first event, but we were realistic about the second. I’m glad it was set up like it was, I think the clean would have made Helen anxious if it wasn’t shadowed in the confidence of the event preceding it.

The warm-up was standard. A few toes to bar, but not too many. Two sets of five fast clean and jerks, just re-greasing the movement pattern we’d solidified over the past week. Then the Range of Motion Olympic Lifting Warm-up and building to her opening weight. Didn’t look light. Didn’t look heavy.

I prompted H as she talked me through both events. Interrupting and throwing in virtual obstacles for her to overcome.

Hat on. Ice towel on. Called to marshal. Leader’s lane ten. We hugged. The final message… “Enjoy it, RACE THEM!”. She was looking forward to this.

Tighten the backpack straps. Sprint to the stadium. I needed to be right in front of her for the cleans to change the plan if the other girls’ lifts demanded it. I was.

Athletes enter the stadium. Helen interacting with the crowd more and more as each event rolled around. Smile. Wave.

“Athletes, 60 seconds”.

“Athletes, 30 seconds”.

…music stops…

“C’mon H-Bomb… SPEEEEEEEEEED.”

“Stand by”.

I count down. 5… 4… 3… 2…

The beep beats me again.

H is third to get her hands to the bar. First to get her toes to it. Even from 60 metres away, front on, I can see it’s a no rep before the judge calls it. It’s too fast, her heels never go behind the bar. It’s a mistake she’s made many times in training, and something I’ve warned her about just as many times. No rep. No rep. She does it again. “Get your shit together, you’re better than that”… to no one in particular. Then she finds her rhythm. Her rectus femoris is firing, the knee injury a distance memory. She looks fast, but she needs to be because she’s two reps behind. She comes off the bar equal first with two others… including Annie immediately to her right, my left. They reach the bar together. Another two girls far to H’s left just a step behind. Her clean and jerk are fast without being lightning. Not up to the speed of training, but well within the limits of what I’d expect from ‘the stadium effect’ – that unknown breakdown that can sometimes occur on the competition floor. Helen is one of three girls to finish the clean and jerk at the same time. Annie and Carey (second and third on the leaderboard) are a couple of reps behind… they won’t catch her.

Helen locks out the 22nd rep and just turned and run two steps before the bar hits the ground. At the turn she’s in second. The others won’t catch her. It’s a close race, but you can run a long way in the time it takes someone to do one rep. It wasn’t to be an event win, but top three would extend her points lead. The chasing girls stream out behind her as she nears the finish line. 50, 40, 30 metres. There’s a girl five metres behind her, then another one ten metres back, then 15, 20, 25, 30…

She sprints towards the finish line…

…

… and runs around the bar.

The athlete brief clearly told them to jump over their bar.

I saw her gradual diversion around the bar 10m before it happened, but I was powerless. Out of my hands. My least favourite situation.

As she skirted the bar the judge yelled, “over the bar… GO BACK!”. Helen’s face showed a split second of confusion. Her body was moving faster than her mind was processing this new information. She slowed. Then stopped. Ran back. Slowly. Not fast enough. Her competitors streamed past. Annie and Carey. She was going through the motions. Her mind still trying to catch up… it was trying to process the information, which left no computing power to tell her body to “FUCKING MOVE!”. Disappointment and resignation left no room for motivation, and as she sauntered over the finish line the unstoppable tide of momentum of her competitors enveloped her. She’d made a mistake. A big one. It was her only mistake of the week. But it happened at the worst possible time. The nature of the event meant that any mistake would be amplified. And it was. She ran past the bar in second place. Ran over it in 8th. Crossed the finish line in 12th.

All this happened in six seconds.

The unofficial scoreboard showed her in third. But she’d crossed in 12th. The head judge came over. He and Helen’s judge conferred. Helen looked at me. I gave her the ‘thumbs up or thumbs down’ sign, appropriate for the colosseum we were in. She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

Now was not the time to dwell. She’d be cleaning the first bar in less than two minutes and we had a job to do. Inside, I ran the full gamete of the grief response… well almost the full gamete… I didn’t quite get to acceptance. I had to keep it internalised. You may think that grief is an overexageration… but remember, at this exact moment, Helen’s success was the most important thing in the world to me.

I needed to shift her focus. I threw so many stimuli at her that there wasn’t any room for her to join me on the grief train. I started barking orders. I needed to overwhelm her before she had time to think. I had to fill her head with productive tasks… and quickly. “SHOES ON. BELT ON. WHAT’S YOUR FIRST LIFT? HAVE A DRINK. PUT ON YOUR HAT. TIGHTEN YOUR LACES. WHERE’S THE CHALK? CHALK UP.” Multiple orders in quick succession. Confusing and overwhelming her. Anything to stop the realisation taking hold.

I scaled down my demands. Gradually narrowed her focus from ‘everything’ to ‘one thing’. Loading the bar.

“Stand by”

5, 4, 3…

BEEEEEP.

First step. 0.5s on. This would give us the extra pound we’d need to bypass any logjam tiebreaks.

176lb on the bar. 80kg. Successful lift. Not easy but successful. I looked around at the other girls. A host of 175s flew up. I’d have smiled if I wasn’t still internally stuck on the depressive fourth stage of grief.

Second lift. Add 5lb to each end. 20 seconds break. 186lb. Nailed it. Looked heavy, but I’ve NEVER seen H fail to stand up a clean once she’d got under it with high elbows. “GOOD!” I shouted.

Third lift. Take off the 5lbs and replace with the white 10lbs. 196lb. 89kg. For a 1.5kg PB. 30 second break.

Chalk up. Approach the bar. Hands on. I know if she finishes the pull she’ll make the lift. I shout “FINISH. TALL. FINISH. TALL. FINISH. TALL.” Alternating cues for the same result. Hoping one of them will carry from my mouth to her ears. She lifts. Doesn’t finish the pull. Receives the bar forward. Elbows follow. Eyes follow. Chest follows. Body concertinas like an empty aluminium can.

It’s ok.

We’ve got contingency plans built on contingency plans.

But which do we go with?

She looks to me to make the decision for her. It’s my call. There’s only time for one more attempt. She’d missed the lift so plan A (increase weight) was off the table. So I had to choose between plan B (reattempt) and plan C (drop to 190lb). “What do you want to do?” I yelled. She looked blank. Indecisive. She had no idea.

This was a watershed moment. For the event and for the entire competition. My head simultaneously went all Hoffman from Rainman, Crowe from A Beautiful Mind, Cooper from Limitless.

In that split second my mind went back to The Open. I scanned the bars of her competitors, letting one side of my brain process their weights while the other side relived 16.2 of The Open. We’d paced her cleans perfectly to finish the set before the time cap. As long as she didn’t miss a lift she’d finish the round and progress to the next. With ten seconds to go she set up, lifted… and missed it. Didn’t finish the pull. Received the bar forward. Elbows followed. Eyes followed. Chest followed. Body concertinaed like an empty aluminium can. Déjà vu. The bar had hit the ground with four seconds to go. She had no choice. She had tried again. And made it. With half a second to spare. She had to make it, she’d had no choice.

So I gave her no choice.

My mind was made up.

“Do it again. This time MAKE IT”. Solid advice. Great coaching right there.

“NOW!”, I yelled. She had plenty of time (45 seconds) but I didn’t want her to think, I wanted her to lift. I needed urgency and instinct, not composure and thought.

This was quite possibly the most important moment of our CrossFit Games.

Later she told me she didn’t think she’d make the lift. That given the choice, she’d have gone with plan C.

I knew there were two things that would stop her making the lift. Not finishing the pull and receiving the bar with a rounded thoracic spine. I didn’t have time to tell her these things. And giving her two different cues would be one cue to many. So, as with the previous lift, I gave her two cues, but two cues for the same thing. I needed cues that would prevent the two things that I knew could derail her lift, not finishing the pull, and receiving the bar with a rounded thoracic spine.

‘EYES UP. CHEST UP.’ She could interpret those as she liked, but they’d mean she’d finish the pull and receive the bar upright. The two obstacles to success.

‘Go. NOW’ I screamed. I wanted urgency.

I pointed to the sky drawing her gaze 45 degrees upwards. That’s where I wanted her.

‘EYES UP. CHEST UP. EYES UP. CHEST UP. EYES UP. CHEST UP. EYES UP. CHEST UP. EYES UP. CHEST UP. EYES UP. CHEST UP.’

Her eyes were up. Her chest was up. You can check out the lift on our Instagram page.

She made it. 196lb. A PB.

Fifth place in a major danger event.

If she’d missed that final lift, she’d have dropped from 5th to 13th in that event. If she’d missed the final lift and we hadn’t added the 0.5lb plates, she’d have been 16th. We made the right call… but only just. A true watershed.

Familiar pattern. Run to the athlete area. Wait at the end of the road. The clean event was good, better than expected. But it couldn’t come close to remedying the previous event. It really hurt.

I saw Helen on the road. Walking a bit slower. Hat pulled down a bit further. No smile this time. Hopefully my smile looked more genuine than it felt. ‘PB BABY!’ I yelled as soon as she was within earshot. Hopefully my enthusiasm sounded more genuine than it felt.

Helen was close to tears. Hug. “Did I come last?”. “Nah you did awesome! Hardly even matters! How good’s that!? Five events and you’ve only made one mistake! I’ll take those odds any day! 12 place, yea baby!”. I don’t think she was buying it. Neither was I for that matter, but I did my best to internalise it. Like in any good relationship, one partner needs to be strong when the other wasn’t. I did my best to play this role. I wish I could have done it better for Helen, but I tried.

We stood in the shade. Me being overly enthusiastic and positive. Searching for everything and anything to keep her mind where it needed to be. I know from training that it’s easy for her to go to a dark place with injury or perceived failure.

It’s something we’d discussed in the past in the ‘storming’ phases of developing our athlete/coach relationship. Her need for me to let her grieve, to be angry and grumpy and negative. So I let her do it. Standing in the shade away from the other competitors. I gave her five minutes without me trying to feign happiness. Annie came past. “Yay, I found something I can beat Helen at… JUMPING OVER BARS!”. This helped big time. It made light of the situation. Annie and the other girls were so good. They didn’t let her feel sorry for herself. And having them around meant that Helen had to put on a positive face… and I think pretty soon her inner mood began to match her positive face.

It didn’t help me though.

This was by far and away the hardest part of my Games experience. I did my best to play the role Helen needed, but inside my head was filled with ‘what ifs’ and ‘if onlys’. I needed a coach. I needed Ash. Her and I texted forward and back over the next few hours. It helped that I could take the filter off and not internalise.

Later that night Helen sensed that I wasn’t with it. She became the strong one in the relationship. I needed that. Maybe it helped her too? I was tired. Jetlagged and pretty exhausted. I went to bed as soon as we’d done our event brief for the final day.

What if this kept us out of the number one spot? What if that one very tiny but very massive mistake made the difference? I wanted this so bad. I went to sleep with the final ten seconds of that event playing on loop in my head. What if. What if. What if…? Unproductive emotions.

Remember that this is me writing my internal dialogue. Hopefully most of it was just that, internal. But it was a lesson for me, and something I need to work on to be a better coach and person. Not to let pinpoint moments in time impact me so much. I’m working on it.

Helen was sitting in first going in to the final day. We were expecting a great finish in event six, and the final was an unknown.

We have a great fight on our hands. And we we’re fucking ready.

2016 CROSSFIT GAMES MASTERS – Event Six Coach’s Recap.

Oh yea, we liked the look for this one. It played to a lot of Helen’s strengths. Her thrusters are fast. She can bar muscle-up all day. The D-ball cleans would be heavy but are very learnable in a short period of time. Add to that the fact that we’d done a lot of seated deadball shouldering to work around knee issues over the past six months, and once H was back training on her feet, had used this implement a lot (including a particularly nasty 80 rep pyramid of ascending ball shoulders).

3 rounds for time of:

12 thrusters (80 lb.)
6 bar muscle-ups
3 D-ball cleans (100 lb.)
Time cap: 10 minutes
The time domain was great, it was just short enough that Helen could go flat out… 100%, without hitting the wall. I gambled on the fact that if H could only JUST hold on for that long, the majority of her competition probably couldn’t.

First step, identify limiting factors; cardiorespiratory endurance (but like I said, the time domain was right at the limits of her sprint ability), thruster stamina and deadball shoulder technique. Any time a skill or coordination based movement is programmed with enough notice I’m happy. Motor development is easy to cram. And the number of thrusters was perfect, enough for them to matter to her competition, but not so many they’d matter to H.

As always, we worked backwards from day one of competition to formulate event specific training.

Six days out, on the Wednesday before The Games, and one day after the event release, I had Helen hit the event in its entirety. Castro did me a favour by programming something that wouldn’t have a lingering neuromuscular effect, but would smash Helen in the short term. This meant I could use it as her conditioning work. Event specific prep and cardiorespiratory conditioning work rolled into one.

H was training solo, so my advice for this first attempt was to go fast and unbroken from the start. If this worked, excellent. If it didn’t work, we’d have identified exactly where, when and what broke down, and could then work backwards from that to modify strategy.

She went fast and unbroken. She fumbled the deadball twice in the last set (a motor learning issue, easy for me to fix when I got to the US). Oh, and she also did the thrusters too light. She wasn’t particularly happy with this. It was a missed opportunity to learn. I added a limiting factor… imperial conversions.

The next day, a day before I was to arrive, I had Helen do some unstructured practice of deadball shouldering. Basically playing with the movement. I think we ended up going with a bunch of three rep sets. Plenty of break between each. Zero intensity aside from the skill itself. They were getting better.

On Friday I arrived. H-usband picked me up from the airport, we drove home, dropped my bags and went to CrossFit Costa Mesa. After a double under warm-up, I had H hit event six in the full sun.

We started with some skill work on the ball. Her fumbling issue came from her set-up. She was setting up with the ball forward of her centre of gravity, between her toes. The mismatch in centres of gravity between her body and the ball was the root cause. A small adjustment fixed the problem, and she never again fumbled the ball on the pick-up. 10 seconds of technique work paying major dividends.

This time our imperial march was in step and the weight on the barbell was correct.

I set up the iPad to film. This was our last full run-through of this event and we couldn’t miss another opportunity to learn. Thrusters fast and unbroken throughout. Second and third sets hurt, but who cares – it wasn’t enough to negatively impact anything else. Transitions fast. Muscle-ups fast and unbroken. Deadballs good but not polished. Second set of deadball transitions were too slow.

As we huddled over my iPad in the shade later, this second set of ball shoulders was the only obvious source of improvement, and this became a key stage of the event. Not fresh at the start, not sprinting at the end. Just a painful quagmire in the middle. Her first set of deadball shoulders was fastest. Her last set was only a second slower, her middle set dropped seven seconds. This could be fixed.

The major problem was the time it took to get the ball off the ground, and back to the ground. This might sound obvious, but excessive pauses in the hip were the enemy. We decided we needed another opportunity to practice the deadball. There were a handful of seconds to gain.

CrossFit Costa Mesa was closed the next day, so we trained at CrossFit Southbay. This was to be our last training day. No 100lb deadball. We recognised some of H’s competitors practicing the event with a sandbag. Same energy systems, same movement pattern, but very different skill. We passed on the sandbag. We spent a good few hours calling people and driving around trying to track down a 100lb deadball, but no one had one. We only needed 10 minutes with it. I knew this was really important, but we just couldn’t make it work. We’d have to wait for the warm-up area. I think this is the only element of the weekend where there was a stone left unturned, but not for lack of trying. In the end I don’t think it impacted her performance at all, but it had the potential to, and I didn’t like that.

Early morning in the stadium. Athlete briefing.

As we walked to the brief I kicked one of the deadballs. It was very hard, different to what we’d trained with at home. But that was fine. We’d done a few sessions with atlas stones in the lead-up, and if anything, H was better with a firmer ball. Helen gave it a prod so she knew what to expect.

We got briefed.

Suddenly this got very strategic. There was lots of running between elements. I knew this would extend the time domain beyond where H could maintain a sprint. So the pacing didn’t change, but the run in between couldn’t be max effort.

There was another MAJOR strategy consideration. The deadball provided the ‘marker’ for the crowd to see which athlete was in front. This meant that the ball had to be moved about after each set of shoulders. Each set was in a box, maybe 6 metres deep, with the ball beginning in the middle of the first box.

The logistics of this might sound simply, and I was hoping our competitors agreed, but we went through about half a dozen iterations of how to move that ball.

Roll the ball backwards? It was a long way and this was slow.

Always throw it over the shoulder facing the same way so the act of shouldering it moved it towards the next box? Too much transition time between reps.

Pick it up and carry it on the shoulder? Adds an extra rep with a heavy ball.

Pick it up and carry it in the hip? Still means H had to pick up the ball again.

I had an idea but we needed to clarify it with the judges. At the end of the briefing H went down to the head judge to ask if it was legal. We needed him to clarify what constituted the start and end point of a rep. Start: Ball on ground in your box. End: Ball on ground in the same box (with you still in that box).

So here was our plan. Round one. Two ball over shoulders. On the third rep, shoulder the ball the walk forward WITH THE BALL ON THE SHOULDER. Go as far as possible in that box, then drop the ball in that same box, completing the rep. Turn around and roll the ball about 30cm under the legs ‘tunnel ball’ style. Second round same thing, ensuring the first rep is always done facing the finish line, so the third rep is the same – allowing the walk forwards to the end of the box before dropping.

Day three. By now the routine was familiar. Coffee for H, then sitting up the back of the stadium watching the teens to see if there was anything we’d missed. There wasn’t. And no one was doing our strategy.

Helen went back to the athlete area to tick the boxes on her schedule.

45 mins pre- event marshalling we met in the warm-up area.

I grabbed a wall ball and demonstrated the event flow we were looking for. I did a full event walk through (the first of MANY in the next 20 minutes) as H watched on. Which way to face, when to walk, how far to walk, when to drop. It was important we drilled this, because our strategy had changed after the event briefing, and I needed to replace the mental rehearsal we’d done over the last week. This wasn’t just about learning our new strategy, it was about unlearning our old one. It would take a lot of repetition to create new automaticity.

Much of our warm-up for that event was Helen obediently running through the flow and banging out a few quickly doubles on the heavy d-ball, followed by a 3m walk. Yea, we chucked a few fast thrusters and muscle-ups in there too, but they didn’t need much warming up.

Five minutes until marshalling. Yet another event walk through, then one final event ‘talk through’. Helen now reacting seamlessly to me constant interrupting, ‘what if…’.

Hat on. Ice towel. Post exercise drink in hand. Hug. Final advice, “You gotta hurt in that second set of shoulders”.

Tighten the straps.

Sprint.

Stadium.

Pole position.

Athletes enter the stadium.

“60 seconds athletes.”

“30 seconds.”

“10 seconds.”

“Stand by.”

5…4…3…2…

“BEEEP”.

The girls get to the thruster bar together. I’m happy she’s improved her ‘start of event urgency’. They all leave it within a couple of seconds of each other. Helen somewhere in the top ten. First set of bar muscle-ups. Annie and H rep for rep. Helen finishes first. Jogs with purpose to the ball.

Two quick ball shoulders for Helen. She’s in fifth. Then a third shoulder… but she doesn’t drop it. She walks forward. The judge doesn’t follow. I read her lips… “COME BACK. YOU NEED TO DROP IT.”. Helen ignores her and keeps walking. She says something to the judge. The judge catches on and catches up. Toes to the line. Drops the ball. “THREE”. Spins. Tunnel ball. Round one complete. Her shouldered walk has moved her from fifth to second going in to round two. I feel a poke between my shoulderblades from behind. “Strategy?”. I nod, my eyes not leaving Helen.

End of the second set of thrusters, Helen sits just outside the top five. I’m not concerned. She won’t slow down, and our strategy is back-end heavy.

The next round sees H pendulum between third and sixth, always working through the pack on the muscle-ups. As long as the pendulum is closer to third than sixth as she crossed the finish line I’d be happy. It was hard to compete with some of the stronger girls on the deadball.

Final round. Methodical thrusters, but I can see they’re hurting. The stretching of the time domain with the long run transitions is giving H more time to relaise how much she’s hurting, and more opportunity to slow down. Autopilot on the muscle-ups. Fast sprint finish on the ball. Our timing and pacing were perfect. The pendulum swings from sixth to third in the last round. Another top three finish. Extending her overall lead.

As I run back to meet Helen, I run the numbers in my head, pulling out my phone to confirm them on the online scoreboard as I run through the bubble of athlete WiFi.

The overall leaderboard shows H in first and Annie in second. With a cut to ten athletes for the final, Annie would have to win the final event with Helen in tenth. Mathematically possible. And while it was mathematically possible we had to remain consummate professionals. It had worked so far.

“Finish your drink H!”

Smile. Hug. “Well done. One more.”

A couple of minutes to enjoy the debrief. Then refocus. I debated telling Helen about the scoreboard status. I told her. For two reasons. Firstly, I knew the buffer would relax her. Secondly, I knew the mathematical possibility would keep her focussed. Net gain.

Then I got very serious.

“H. You need to keep your eyes on the ball.”.

“Yea obviously” she replied, as if I wouldn’t!”.

“I know. But I have to say it.”

“I know you do.”

The next event was an unknown, including when it was. I gave the glucose 20 minutes to enter Helen’s bloodstream, restoring hepatic glycogen, then she had to eat. Without knowing the timing we had to refuel as quickly as possible.

We had business to attend to. Boxes on the schedule to tick. Professionalism had got us this far, it needed to carry us through one more event.

“Focus. Keep your eyes on the ball”.

2016 CROSSFIT GAMES MASTERS – Event Seven Coach’s Recap.

The unknown.

Our preparation for the known events of the 2016 CrossFit Games was meticulous and planned. But the final event wasn’t to be announced until mere hours before its completion.

But as much as we’d prepared perfectly for the known events (over the preceding week), we’d prepared EVEN BETTER for the unknown event. Even better, because the sum total of ALL our preparation before that final week had been for the unknown.

Helen was fit. She had all the elements she needed. We knew her training program was rock solid and complete. We’d worked the weaknesses her body had allowed us to, and fortified her strengths. Every trainable element of her capacity was optimised. But the trainable elements weren’t everything. And so, between the Master’s Qualifer and The Games, we did some freaky shit. My goal was simple, to give Helen as broad a spectrum of stimuli as possible. We wouldn’t SPECIALISE in anything out of the ordinary, but we’d take a shotgun to the outliers for mass exposure. We wanted a very small amount of coverage on a very large amount of possible movements, stimuli and apparatus. And Helen doth protest! But she obliged, albeit grudgingly.

Over the course of the weeks between Regionals and The Games Helen flipped tyres, shouldered sandbags, shouldered atlas stones, shouldered kegs, lifted logs, walked with heavy farmer’s handles, walked with heavy yokes, carried sandbags/deadballs/farmer’s handles/atlas stones and anything else we could find up and down the street. Oh, and she lifted the axel.

Some of these sessions were a real grind – mentally more than physically. It took 15 minutes for Helen to work out how to shoulder our heaviest sandbag. It took us about two months to finally flip our heaviest tyre. The flipping of the tyre wasn’t the stimulus I was chasing, it was the problem solving process that lead to that tyre being flipped. Seeing that tyre go over was a microcosm of our overall struggle.

We didn’t have her doing these things much. In fact, she did them very little. But that’s all I needed. A natural athlete can adapt to things slightly outside their wheelhouse VERY quickly with a VERY small amount of exposure. Exposure was all we needed. Familiarity.

The final event was to be in the Tennis Stadium, the intimate colosseum of The CrossFit Games. Where the magic really happens. I was ecstatic that Helen had earned the opportunity to throw down on this stage.

Immediately following her penultimate event I went into ‘worst case scenario mode’. I’ve followed The CrossFit Games since day one, and I know the unknown and unknowable that gets thrown at the athletes. I took nothing for granted and trusted nothing. We would prepare for anything. I had Helen eat much sooner after her previous event than I ordinarily would, then had a couple of different plans for her subsequent snack based on how the cards were falling.

The athlete brief would be in the tennis stadium, with the Master’s finalists on the competition floor. Before she went through the tunnel for the brief I told her to take her phone with her, and check it every ten minutes. I didn’t know if I’d see her again before the event and needed to have an open line of communication. If she didn’t have access to her phone I told her to strategise for the event as I would. I hoped this would reign in any over enthusiasm.

The athletes stood in the sun as Dave Castro brought the demo team out to demo the event. At one end of the field stood a massive A-frame rig.

They rolled out an axel. I smiled. Beneath her off-trend broad brimmed hat Helen smiled. Not many other people smiled.

27 chest to bar pull-ups, then two rounds of 12 axel deadlifts, 9 axel hang power cleans, 6 axel shoulder to overhead. 57kg.

This was our final event. To fall from first place, Helen had to come last, and Annie had to win it.

The demo team did the hang power cleans with a mixed grip (as I’d taught Helen in training), but instead of switching to a standard rack position at the end of the second pull, they maintained the underhand grip with one hand for a bastardised hang clean/bicep curl abomination. Not what we’d trained, and not what we were going to do.

I liked the event. Non of Helen’s weaknesses in there. Plenty of strengths.

The demo team made the cleans look hard. The rest was fine. This is where it was to be won or lost.

Turns out we had plenty of time. The worst-case scenario didn’t eventuate. But if it had, we’d been prepared.

I met Helen in the athlete area. She begrudgingly thanked me for forcing her to lift the axel in training.

She was relaxed. I kept it light hearted. I walked the fine line of keeping the pressure off while still keeping her eyes on the ball and her mind on the task. I wanted her going into the final event happy.

We talked strategy. Three sets on the chest to bar pull-ups. She could go unbroken easily, but just because she could, doesn’t mean she should (probably the biggest strategy mistake I see people make – it isn’t what you can do on one movement, it’s how that impacts everything else).

Two sets on the deadlifts, six, drop, six. Just long enough to unload the forearms for a fraction of a second. Then singles on the cleans. It meant an extra deadlift each rep (they were hang power cleans), but I thought we’d have a net gain from this. We’d go with a mixed grip, switching the grip to catch in the rack position. Rest an extra five seconds before the final clean, then walk it forward and proceed immediately into an unbroken set of shoulder to overhead. Being super fast on this movement would justify the singles on the clean.

We had plenty of time. Helen went to relax and eat, I went back to the Tennis Stadium to watch the teens and learn. They were all struggling with the clean, big time.

Warm-up. The last time. This one felt different (as the last event of a major competition always does). A bit ‘lighter’. The end in site.

Eyes on the ball.

We had our strategy. Helen wanted to try the half bicep curl technique the demo team (and hence all her competitors) were doing. It actually looked ok. The axel was light enough that she could maybe get away with it. She felt there was less messing around with switching her grip. I agreed. Had it been a bit heavier, definitely not. She tried cycling some reps and could string them together pretty easily.

Word spread through the athlete area that one of the male competitors had just torn his bicep using this technique. We needed to be careful.

The strategy changed. H wanted to string the cleans together. Four reps. Four reps. One rep, straight into the shoulder to overhead. I agreed again.

We spent a lot of time experimenting and testing. Her movment looked good. The pull-ups were inconsequential, as were the deadlifts. The shoulder to overhead looked strong (a very good movement for H to cycle at moderate to heavy loads).

Final hat. Final ice towel. No post- exercise drink this time. Final hug. “Keep your focus H”.

Tighten the backpack straps. Autopilot sprint to the stadium. Divert right to the Tennis Stadium as the habit in my legs tries to direct me to the Soccer Stadium where we’d spent the last three days.

Fighting through the crowd. I needed my place on the fence, right in front of her at the finish line. I nudged and sidled my way through the fans. I looked at the t-shirts of the spectators to find the ones from the same affiliate as the currently competing athletes. I knew they’d be vacating their place on the fence at the end of this heat. The heat ended and they did. Centre lane. On the fence. Helen would be exercising her way down the lane towards me.

Athletes run out.

“Athletes, 60 seconds”.

“Athletes, 30 seconds”.

…music stops…

“Stand by”.

I count down. 5… 4… 3… 2…1!

For the first and only time, I beat the beep!

BEEEEEEP.

To tell you the truth, I remember less about this event than any other. I was in a different head space. I was starting to let my guard down, and by this stage, I could afford to. Helen was in control, I was jus there to troubleshoot.

10 easy chest to bars. Short break. 9 easy chest to bars. Short break. 8 easy chest to bars. She looks very composed, not rushed. Approaches the axel.

Six deads. Drop. Six deads. Drop. Roll forwards.

Then the variety of clean techniques Helen had rolling around her head combined. I have no idea what happened on those first three cleans – some Frankenstein’s Monster emerged. The bar started in the hang. It ended in the front rack. But what happened between those two points I have no idea. Maybe the wrong hand switched, or it switched when it shouldn’t have. At one point I’m certain I saw three hands in there. I didn’t panic, she got them done, sorted her shit out and moved on.

First set of shoulder to overhead. Looked heavyish but achieveable.

I can’t comment on the other girls in her heat at this stage, because for the first time that week I don’t think I looked at them – or at least I can’t remember doing so.

Second set of deadlifts the same. Six. Drop. Six. Drop. Then it got hard. Two hang cleans in I realised I’d made the wrong call with her strategy. I’d made the rookie error of expecting it to be easier than it was. Expecting an event on the floor at The CrossFit Games to be a smooth as that same event back at Range of Motion.

The second set of cleans was heavy. She broke them up more.

Then on the shoulder to overhead she hit the wall.

Three reps.

Drop.

Three re… “NO REP”.

Drop.

One rep.

The set of six probably took over a minute. It should have taken 10 seconds.

I don’t know her split for the two rounds of this event, but it definitely wasn’t negative split we usually chase. I’d guess the second round took maybe 90 seconds longer than the first. We’d dropped the ball on the strategy here. We should have gone with our initial instinct and gone singles on the hang power cleans all the way.

I slowed her down. I just wanted one more good rep. I gave her much more rest than she needed. She wouldn’t be caught, and I wanted to guarantee the last rep.

During these final six shoulder to overheads I shifted my gaze to the other competitors. Two girls had finished, the others were a long way back. Not going to catch her. I was never panicked, and the euphoria of the impending moment stopped me from beating myself up. It’s only as I write this now that I realise we were off the mark here. This was our sole strategy mistake of The CrossFit Games.

The thing is it wouldn’t have mattered. I think she’d still have finished that event in third even with the correct strategy. It didn’t matter on that day. But one day it will. And that’s why I/we need to be better next time.

She crossed the line.

Mathematically I knew we’d won the CrossFit Games. Logically I knew we’d won the CrossFit Games. Emotionally I couldn’t yet let myself believe it. There was a lag between perception and reality. I didn’t let myself believe it in case that belief let my guard down. I couldn’t yet turn off the healthy pessimism and paranoia that had made me so particular, obsessive, systematic and thorough over the past six months. It took me a while to make the switch.

This was the destination. It’s wrong what they say. It’s NOT all about the journey. It’s about the all encompassing white light of happiness that millisecond you cross the finish line.

As I reached down and she reached up I had tears in my eyes and the biggest most involuntary smile of my life on my face. A cloud of chalk envelopes our hands as they meet.

We’d been on one hell of a journey together. And we’ll have that for the rest of our days.

Champion of the world.