Without feedback, you simply can’t make progress toward a goal. It’s like coding without the occassional compile and run. Non-geek translation: It’s dumb.

Unfortunately, feedback is in short supply for folks looking to improve their posture. To remedy that issue, this article outlines a homebrew solution I developed for measuring spinal curvature at home, for free.

It’s 2011. I’m in the best shape of my life. I can run long distances, lift heavy weights and out-chin-up anyone in the gym, one-armed! I’m even pretty flexible to boot.

Sorry for bragging, but I’m setting up my point.

I started the last decade an overweight computer geek. I ended it an enthusiastic fitness dweeb. The change was so drastic, I wanted to reflect on what inspired that transition. I realized there was one specific thing accounted for my getting in shape more than any other. When I realized what it was, I was surprised but not at all perplexed.

I’ve been getting into weightlifting in a big way lately, thanks to an obscure weightlifting club here in Switzerland. At this bafflingly affordable club there are two types of client: enormous gorilla men… and me. We let ourselves into the unstaffed workout room, place our things in the lockerless change room, exchange palm-crushing handshakes and pleasantries with the other members, and start lifting weights old-school. I love this place.

Thanks in large part to the spectacular weightlifting equipment there, I’ve put on 7lbs of lean mass in less than 3 months. The results are similar to my Pack on the Sexy challenge, but with workouts that are shorter and fewer.

When I return to Toronto, where gyms are seldom more than profit-oriented rooms of TVs and treadmills, I’ll miss the camaraderie, but I simply can’t sacrifice the equipment. But here’s the problem: A single Eleiko-brand weightlifting bar costs $1000. That’s just the bar!

So I’ve been doing my research. Here’s how to get a serious weightlifting setup at home, on a shoestring budget.

So we know that getting good posture is not easy. Forces of gravity are working relentlessly on your body, and your body has been responding in the same lousy way since forever. Improving posture is essentially like breaking a lifelong habit that’s been supported by countless elements from daily life. The height of your countertops, the soles of your shoes, even how often you flip your mattress all play some role. How are we supposed to tackle all that?

The same way you eat an elephant: one bite at a time. Let’s get chewing.

The hot new thing amongst runners is barefoot running. The pitch usually goes like this:

“You must run barefoot. Shoe padding makes your muscles weak, causing injuries.”

This argument starkly contrasts with an old wisdom that states:

“You must replace your running shoes every six months. If you don’t the padding will wear out and you’ll get injuries.”

So which is it? Shoe padding prevents injuries, or causes them? Let’s see if we can find a reliable answer rooted in empirical evidence, not hearsay.

There are certain industries that, collectively, lack credibility. The posture aid industry is one of them. It seems to be filled with hucksters hawking snake oil devices. I know that improving posture requires hard work — sorry, no getting around that — but that doesn’t mean there aren’t some advantages to be had with modern tools.

The difficult part is finding posture aids that aren’t just cleverly marketed junk. People need tools that, you know… do something. How many times have I found an ostensibly great product, Googled it, and found scam alerts, enlightening reviews, and conflicts of interest that discredited said product. Today i want to review a number of posture aids (most of which I’ve owned or used), list their pros and cons, and let you decide if they fit your needs.

To a diabetic, understanding blood sugar is of critical importance. To the rest of us, it’s about as comprehensible as a complex biochemical molecule; which it, in fact, is. Yet we all have days where we feel just exhausted, times when we can’t think straight, moments of extreme pep followed by stretches of lethargy. These affect us frequently; isn’t it worth learning the reason?

Let’s not let science scare us off. There’s much to be gained from understanding how the food we eat becomes the fuel we burn. The conversion of cereal and milk to physical exertion is an elegant, complex process that cascades into varied physical manifestations. How we eat can magnetize us to our mattresses or be the wind at our backs.

So here is a simple, practical guide to the human machine and how it turns fajitas into fuel.

Lately I’ve been thinking about what it takes to be athletic. What are the measurements, skills, and abilities that make someone so? Should you be able to jump high? Run far? Or land a ball on a target from 100 paces?

Even with the help of stodgy dictionary definitions, the question of what makes somebody athletic is a broad one. The interpretations are varied but there are common factors that can generally be agreed upon. This article outlines the research and thought that I’ve put into the subject, and attempts to find an answer that covers all bases. After all, how can you land a ball on a target when you don’t know what the target looks like?

Recently I challenged myself to put on 10 lbs of muscle in 3 months. I managed to do it. Unfortunately, with those 10 lbs came another 8 lbs of fat. When I started burning the fat with aerobic exercise I found my muscle gains eroded too. “I’m taking 2 steps forward and 1 step back,” I thought.

This was a problem that needed mitigation so I did some research on the subject. Here’s what I learned about winning the tug of war between fat and muscle.

When a fitness program/product/book/DVD/diet/etc. claims extraordinary results, it sets off our collective BS detectors. Yet many people eagerly shell out their money anyway. Why?

Purveyors of fitness don’t sell health, they sell hope. They sell the Hail Mary, the chance that a miracle just might happen. These dreams become so much more believable when there’s “evidence” to back them up. Fortunately for the purveyors, the measurement of fitness is a confusing, inaccurate science.

I call the techniques they use the “fudge factor.” They’re technicalities, temporary solutions, visual tricks and mismeasurements used to make someone seem fit, but with no real or lasting effect. Here are some of the grifters’ scams, exposed.