Nonlinear Progress

Welcome back, dearest Dunk Dayer! I’m still here despite a longer-than-usual absence. The days and weeks fuse together as we slog towards spring, which is often hidden in sixth-winter or first-summer. Whiplash is to be expected around here, with the weeks featuring a tornado warning, near freezing temperatures, and violent thunderstorms, with snow flurries sprinkled in just to really shake things up. It’s the weather potluck no one asked for, and despite your best efforts, there is no getting out of. But when the right day hits, it hits. An old friend from back home showed up to the potluck that you thought might be there but couldn’t confirm, and they brought your favorite dish. The whole city is out along the lakefront, sitting in the grass, gathering on porch steps, acting as if we haven’t seen the sun in months. Which at this point, I can’t remember if we have or not.

How does that connect to this dunk journey? It’s an obvious challenge to get a jump session in at a park before the storm comes. It’s almost worse when the day is perfect. Suddenly everyone is a baller. I’ve never missed the adjustable hoop I grew up with more. At this point, I’ll take 45 and overcast, at least it’s predictable and I won’t have competition.

Like this “spring”, my journey is proving unpredictable. I should be used to that at this point. Tuesdays and Thursdays I jump around like the maniac I am with my weighted vest (now up to 24 pounds), followed by a power lifting session. Most recently, I’ve been keyed in on firework squats, with a slow three second countdown as I descend, quads and hips burning and groaning, followed by trying to explode as high as possible, as fast as possible. It’s quite the experience telling your body to fire as a barbell and its heavy weighted friends push back against you with all their might. It’s as if you’re in the climax of an epic fight scene and, wouldn’t you know it, Netflix needs to take that half second to stream. Simultaneously a moment that doesn’t even register and the longest wait of all time.

I’m throwing a lot of weight around (with the video to prove it below, if I’ve piqued your interest). Calf raises are in every session, per Coach Doctor Andrew’s orders. If I may, I am the strongest I have ever been (in my lower half, the upper body is, well, here). Throwing 275 around in the firework squat as the last set of five with five reps isn’t easy, per se, but it’s more than doable. At lower mass, I’m even jumping with the weighted bar.

This is absolutely progress. Again, if I may, my legs are unrecognizable from when I started. For as much as I’m a general athlete, I’ve never felt strong in a particular area like this. Another thing I shouldn’t be surprised by, but this has earned me a bit of a reputation at the gym. A few weeks back, I was on my way downstairs after weighted plyos, and one of the college kids that works at the gym stopped me. He was very nice, but the extent of the conversation went something like this:

College Kid: “That thing is really heavy!” - points at weighted vest
Me: “haha, yeah, it’s something else.”
CK: “We actually had someone leave their weighted vest behind the other day, so I had to take it to lost and found. So heavy! But I’ve seen you doing your workouts and wanted to make sure you had your equipment, so I took it to lost and found. I didn’t know if it was yours or not”
Me: “…oh! Yeah I have mine, it’s a pain but I’m all good with it. I appreciate the thought though!”
CK: “For sure! Just wanted to make sure you have stuff, I always see you jumping!”
Me: “…thanks! Alright, appreciate it. Have a good one!”
CK: :)

Of course I stand out, no one else is doing this, because no one else at my gym is a maniac like this. But the more pressing question is what dingus left behind their weighted vest? First, this thing was expensive. Second, it’s not really something you can just forget. I can understand forgetting your keys or wallet; this is ~20 pounds strapped to your chest. How does that thought process go? You would have to feel significantly different than when you arrived. Very nice of the college kid to make sure I could keep jumping though. So kind.

Now that we’ve hit the minimum required rant/tangent for a Dunk Day update (1), let’s get to the takeaways. I’ve made a lot of progress physically. I feel great. My data (WHOOP sponsor me!) says I’m doing great, with my resting heart rate (lowest, good) and Heart Rate Variability (HRV, highest, good) the best they’ve been since I got my WHOOP in November. I’m smashing PRs with the power lifting.

It hasn’t yet translated to the actual jumping. I know these are all the right inputs, and once I can get back to regular weekly jump sessions, hopefully the vertical gains match the physical ones. As I’ve said ad nauseam, this is a game of consistency, but it sure would be ideal to see a squat PR instantly add an inch to the vertical. One can dream, right? And I bet you, dearest reader, would love to see more jumping and more progress. Did you think this would be a 2+ year adventure? I’m not sure I did either.

Let’s wrap up with a look at the Dunk Day checklist. I’ll provide a bit of context into where I’m at. Then, I’m off to the park. My old friend brought my favorite dish today.

• Touch the rim on 10’

• Dunk on 9’6”

  • I can touch this rim with a standing vertical, but dunking requires so much more

• Dunk with all approaches on 9’6”

• Dunk a tennis ball on 9’9”¹

  • This is really close!

• Dunk a tennis ball with all approaches on 9’9”

  • Single leg will take some time here

• Dunk on 9’9”

• Dunk with all approaches on 9’9”

• Dunk a tennis ball on 10’

• Dunk a tennis ball with all approaches on 10’

• Dunk on 10’

• Celebrate. Like really, really celebrate.

Thanks, as always, for jamming with me! Hoping to get more consistent updates out in the nearish, soonish, future. Maybe even mess around and check another thing off the dunk list. Stay tuned!

1. As I mentioned, I’m a maniac, and that included taking a tape measure to one of the parks I’ve been practicing at to see what they really measure at. I was disheartened to see 9’6” and 9’9”.