It's Complex...

As I sat on the embankment at the Basin Reserve watching the Black Caps on Thursday morning, I had three thoughts: 

1. My friends are mean 
2. I am going to have to time my bathroom runs
3. A pox on house Hammington.

Let me explain. Firstly, my friends are delightful, they had just chosen a seat that was one more step up than the day before, and every step meant a deep breath and gritting my teeth. That pain also explains the bathroom timing, because as I shuffled my way around the ground I realised that if I ended up being, uh, urgently in need, there was no chance I was going to be able to hustle. 

And Carl. Our beloved Carl. As we head into a slightly new phase of Torque’s training, I find myself cursing his name more often. Especially today after my first round of ‘complex training.’ 

As far as I can tell, complex training is basically doing a heavy lift and then a fast, explosive version of the same(ish) movement. So, heavy thing, then jumpy/bouncy thing, and then lie down on the ground for 90 seconds in the foetal position and moan, and then do it again. 

(caption: Megan has a lot of complexes - this is just the most recent)

I believe the idea is to improve my power, but I will let Carl explain that part. I am mostly here to complain. Because every muscle in my posterior chain currently feels both sore and tight, and I would like to officially register some kind of complaint. 

Here’s the really irritating thing. While my toes were healing, I focussed on the upper-body power moves Carl had in the programme. And doing the bench press this week, it’s pretty obvious that they’ve paid off. Not just because I’m almost back to the one rep max I hit in June, but because the movement itself feels easier and more confident. It’s like my muscles understand what to do and do it without me thinking about it. My nervous system just does its thing.

I don’t like it when Carl is right. I especially don’t like it when he teaches me a lesson without me even noticing. Because when you’re going in every day, and your niggly knee is niggly, and your toes hurt when you jump, and climbing up the embankment steps makes you groan, it’s easy to forget the why.

I haven’t jumped much in the last, oh…20 years. I’d forgotten the joy of leaping and trusting your body to know how to land. Even as I wince when I land in the dreaded split squat jumps, gripping a pole to keep my balance, I can feel my body re-learning a movement I forgot so many years ago. It turns out that when you’re not looking, if you keep working at it, the body remembers. Bodies are really, really good at adapting to stimulus, and if you get the right kind, it’s pretty remarkable what they do. 

You’d think after five years, I’d remember this part. But it never fails to surprise me. It’s not like you wake up one day to a package on the doorstep that’s your max deadlift arriving. It’s just there, growing while you heckle your coach and complain about how many steps away the bathroom is. 

And here’s the bit the superhero movies never show you: how sore they must be all the time. Aching muscles, cranky joints, and general fatigue. But still — the work is working.

It’s a helpful reminder that progress doesn’t need to be obvious to be real. It’s not just the bulging biceps or my spectacular calves. Sometimes it’s enough to keep showing up, do the work, let the body do the thing it’s great at — and maybe in a month, those embankment steps won’t bother me at all.

Carl here, and firstly, Megan, I wish I could apologise to your posterior chain and mean it. But I can’t, because you are making gains, so… you’re welcome.

Because what you described is exactly the point of this new phase at Torque. Not the groaning on the embankment steps (although that’s a fun bonus), but the quiet gains that happen when you’re distracted by life, cricket, sore toes, and bathroom logistics.

On Complex Training (AKA “Heavy Thing, Then Jumpy Thing.”)

You’ve actually nailed the description. Complex training pairs a heavy lift with a biomechanically similar explosive movement. Think:

• Heavy squat → jump squat
• Trap bar deadlift → broad jump
• Bench press → plyo push-ups

Why do we do this?

Because this combo taps into something called post-activation performance enhancement (PAPE). In simple terms, the heavy lift “primes” your nervous system, making the explosive movement faster, more powerful and more coordinated.

• Research shows that combining strength and plyometric work improves power more effectively than either on its own.
• It also improves rate of force development (RFD), one of the strongest predictors of long-term athletic ability and injury resilience as we age.

For adults, especially, this matters.

RFD declines rapidly after 40, and plyometric work is one of the strongest buffers we have. It may feel wobbly, awkward or vaguely undignified at first, but that’s just the nervous system remembering how to fire fast again.

On “Trusting Your Trainer” (Even When You’d Like to Curse Him)

Here’s the part that always gets people: we don’t train for today. We train for what your body will become in six weeks, six months, six years.

Progress in the moment feels slow, messy or even absent. But 12 months later, you look back and realise how far you've come and how important those sessions were through those challenging times, when you were tempted to talk yourself out of the session, because, ‘what's the point…’

This is again where cueing earns its keep.

Good coaching uses mostly external cues, because research shows they lead to better power output and cleaner movement than internal cues. A phrase like “push the floor away” lets the nervous system organise itself without you thinking through a checklist mid-jump.In complex training, this becomes gold, the more automatic the pattern, the more explosive the result.

And what you felt in your bench press this week is exactly what the literature describes: coordination improves before you even “feel” stronger. Motor units fire faster. The movement becomes more confident. You stop micromanaging the lift. That’s adaptation quietly doing laps in the background.

Why would you do it?

For adults who haven’t jumped, sprinted, or landed with force in decades, these movements feel foreign at first. They can be humbling. They can be disorienting. They can be a little scary.

If you haven’t jumped in decades, the first sessions feel character-building. The landing feels foreign. The timing feels off. The inner monologue isn't always positive..

But it’s one of the most potent things adults can do for long-term capability. Plyometric work improves connective tissue strength, balance, reactivity and confidence in movement. Little by little, the nervous system rewrites the map: this is how we land, this is how we take off, this is how we trust our body again

The beautiful part is that you don’t need big heroic doses. Small, consistent exposure builds power far better than occasional all-out sessions. A few good jumps each week can change how you move for years.

Some gains you can expect:

• Improves balance
• Reaction speed
• Improves fall prevention.
• It strengthens connective tissue.
• It boosts confidence in movement.
• It’s correlated with bone mineral density.
• And it’s one of the most potent buffers we have against age-related decline.

You’re literally reclaiming skills your body filed away years ago, and for many, you are claiming skills you’ve never had (how cool!).

If you want to engage in this training, please do so under the guidance of an exercise professional, as understanding and experience are required to make this safe and progressive for you.

Showing Up, Even When It’s Not Flashy

This is the part superheroes never show: the soreness, the stiff walks, the goany noises getting out of chairs, the internal negotiations about stairs…But that’s the work. And the work works.

Gains aren't always as linear or obvious as we think. Sometimes it's failing better, or less. I had a conversation with a work colleague, Ruby, about this last week. What we often see on Instagram are people's dramatic successes. What we don't see is the many, many failures, plateaus, the re-navigations and even the grind (consistency despite these things). Let's be real and shine a light on this, as it's important to acknowledge. Perhaps let's consider sharing more of this grind? I think I may do exactly that moving forward. 

Strength, power and other gains don’t arrive in dramatic cinematic moments overnight. They accrue quietly while you train, complain, sleep, adapt, and keep turning up.

Cool shit:

We started a Gains & Brains Inta! Give us a follow to see our summary slides for your reference after reading this.

I (Megan) could not love this more: "Many described how the focus on physical strength and functionality — being able to lift heavier weights, move furniture independently, for example — nurtured a sense of empowerment that challenged traditional gender expectations. These findings led me to explore how strength training might support trauma recovery, particularly for domestic violence survivors who may benefit from reclaiming physical agency and rebuilding their sense of bodily autonomy and strength."