Champions Club Scaling Notes

RANT

Tomorrow (Friday) marks the arrival of an event I have been eagerly anticipating for a looooooooong time; it was announced 8 years ago, test-run 4 years ago, and recently there have been preliminary rounds teasing us for the real thing. It's one of those rare times when the entire country can all be fans of the same thing, all root for the same dude. And, of course, it's not just America: the entire world will be tuned in. It's cold as ice in the dead of winter but will make us sweat from pressing the rewind button over and over again; it will have acrobatics, tricks, and speeds never before seen; it goes so fast, yet smooth and graceful as if it were in slow motion; it tells stories about overcoming struggles and setbacks; it is the epitome of teamwork, even though one individual often gets the shine; more than anything, in an era bombarded with hyping up average things for sale, this is truly the best in the world right now on display for everyone to experience - no marketing or promotion necessary, the product speaks for itself. February 6, 2026 is going to be a date the game will remember for generations to come. I'm talking, of course, about J. Cole finally releasing The Fall Off. And I'm not going to lie, I had been wondering if this was going to be like Dr. Dre's Detox or Lupe Fiasco's LUPEnd and never actually come out, but then late in January it was announced and I've been losing my shit ever since. Whatever joker on the Olympic Committee that scheduled the opening ceremony to start on the same day needs to really examine his priorities.

I have a tradition of listening to albums the instant they come out - which used to mean going to Meijer at midnight and buying the CD, but now means calling up my college teammate so we can listen on whatever streaming thing he has (I'm a nerd, so I still get the physical copy later on). But fellas, I have some terrible news to share: after a phone call earlier tonight, I have come to find that not only will we not be listening to the album together at midnight, but this candy-ass had the audacity to ask me to wait until SATURDAY to listen to it, citing some birthday for someone or other. I know, I know, I can't believe it either. You don't have to school me about it. But the reason I'm sharing this story on here is because after my initial reaction to his request (call him names for letting something as petty as a birthday override a rapper we've never met) I immediately thought about Cindy - for some sick, twisted reason - and the concept of patience I've wrote about on here a few times. You veterans know that there will never be a longer 20 minutes than the 20 minutes in Cindy. And when I really think about it, my limiting factor in Cindy is always patience: It's not a 10, but it's definitely not pleasant starting around the 6(?) minute mark, and my desire for the discomfort to end usually leads to a minute or two with my foot off the gas somewhere in the middle of the workout. And it's stupid on my part! I've already agreed to 20 minutes of discomfort, and said "no" to my impatience for 12 minutes... why not just wait a little longer!

While today's workout is obviously not Cindy, on paper it looks to provide just as much of an opportunity to practice patience in two possible ways: 1) you're Coastie and might smoke this workout unbroken, in which case the patience comes from relentlessly pushing back the temptation for relief from the discomfort until the thing is all the way done, or 2) you don't have this workout unbroken and the patience comes from relentlessly pushing back the temptation to rush the movements - leading to sloppy form, tweaking a back or shoulder, or failing a rep. Either way, there's at least 80 chances in today's workout to view your opponent as "impatience" and stimulus/strategy as "patience"; having this perspective can produce an adaptation that isn't dependent on a timer or previous score and will carry over into other workouts as well.