DIY wall-mounted weight plate storage

A few months ago, when I left Zynga, I wanted to make sure I still had a place to work out. The Zynga gym isn't very big, but it's crammed full of awesome toys that are hard to find at most regular gyms, much less corporate ones: kettlebells, clubbells, climbing rope, olympic lifting platform, bumper plates, Dynamax medicine balls, Rogue barbells, plyo boxes...oh, and a staff that's cool with me grunting and yelling my way through Fight Gone Bad and then heckling me while I'm lying on the floor afterwards. Good times.

So I set about acquiring some new equipment for my home gym. Before long I discovered that floor space is at a real premium when you're in a 12'x12' space, and weight plates take up a lot of room on the floor, especially if you want to have easy access to them. A weight tree is nice, and not terribly expensive if you get it off Craigslist, but it only solves half the problem -- the weights are easier to get to, but they're still taking up valuable floor space.

I tried searching the Intertubes for wall-mounted storage plans, but surprisingly could not find any. So I set out to build my own. Here's what I came up with.

I should mention here that I am not an architect, structural engineer, contractor, or person with very much common sense. I am not responsible for any damage, injury, or unwanted side effects that occur as a result of anyone following these instructions. Proceed at own risk. While supplies last. Limit one per customer.

First, I wanted to do some research on what I'd actually need to hold this thing up. I'm currently the proud owner of 245 pounds of plates, and I'm planning on acquiring another 160 or so in the next couple of weeks (hooray bumper plates!). That's just over 400 pounds, plus the weight of the structure itself. I decided on a safety factor of 3, so I'm looking to build something that I think will hold 1200 pounds on the wall.

I'm going to be mounting this to studs, so that means lag screws. But how many and what kind? It's surprisingly difficult to find information on lag screw holding power without wading through a bunch of really technical documents. Eventually I found a formula that was believable:

W = 1800 * G^(3/2) * D^(3/4)

where G is the specific gravity of the wood that's holding the screw, and D is the unthreaded diameter of the screw. [Source] Values of G are here; divide by 1000 to get the proper units. I'm assured by my friend and super-handy-guy Mark that the studs in my house are almost certainly Douglas fir, but just to be safe I went with a G of 0.3, since that's lower than everything in the table save bamboo and balsa, and I'm pretty sure my studs aren't made of either of those.

Based on that, if I use 1/4" lag screws, I can very conservatively expect them to hold 100 pounds apiece, as long as I get 8x penetration into the wood. This gives the withdrawal force -- how much force it will take to pull the screw out of the wood. Note that if the studs are indeed Douglas fir, with a specific gravity of .53, we get withdrawal force of 245# apiece...but like I said, very conservative. I also found this PDF, which gives the shear force -- that's the force that will cause the screw to break. Since the shear force is greater than the withdrawal force, we're good to go.

OK, armed with that data, I put together my list of materials:

• 2 3'x4'x3/4" plywood ($25)
• 8 3/4" floor flange ($2.20 apiece, ~$18)
• 8 sections of 3/4" threaded pipe ($23, see notes below)
• 12 5"x1/4" Spax lag screws ($8)
• 32 3"x1/4" Spax lag screws ($10)

Total plus tax was about $95 -- about what you'd pay for 2 weight trees, but way less than you'd pay for something like this, and most importantly it'll be wall-mounted.

A few notes about choice of material:

• You could probably save about $10 by getting a 16' length of 2"x6" and cutting a few lengths of it, using 6 lag screws per board. I prefer the look of a solid sheet of plywood, but 2x6 is cheaper and easier to mount if you have a friend to help.
• 3/4" flanges are BY FAR the cheapest diameter. Originally I had planned on using 2" flanges and pipe, since that's the diameter of the hole on olympic plates, but it turns out 2" flanges are $15 bucks apiece. Ouch. Even the 1" and 1/2" flanges are twice the price of the 3/4".
• Home Depot will sell you a 10' length of 3/4" pipe for about $15, and will cut and thread it for 95 cents per cut/thread. I had them cut 5 8" sections and 3 10" sections; these turned out to be well longer than I need for the plates I have, but I figured I'd rather have too much than too little. One thing to note here is that cutting pipe takes FOREVER. At my Home Depot it probably took about 90 minutes to get everything done, and the oil from the machine gets everywhere. Make sure you get a plastic bag to put the pipe in, and dump out all the oil/wipe the pipe sections clean when you get home.
• As an alternative, you can buy pre-threaded sections off the shelf. I'd probably go this route if I were to do it again. It's way, way faster and not nearly as messy. On the other hand, it's a bit more expensive, and all the sections are threaded on both sides. I was worried about the threading scratching up the inside of my plates. You can also get end caps to help prevent that, but that puts a bump on the end of the bar that you need to negotiate when taking the plates off.
• I used Spax lag screws instead of normal lag screws mainly because they're self-drilling, which means you don't have to drill pilot holes, which saves a ton of time, and they've got serrated threads, which are supposed to go in easier, saving wear on your drill. They're a bit more expensive, but they have washers built into the head, so you save a bit there. I also like that you can get them with T-star heads instead of hex heads, which sit flat on the wood when you're done. You could probably save about $5-10 using regular lag screws and washers.
• Also, I used 3" lags on the flanges only because they were completely sold out of 2" lags. If they had those, I would have used them -- they're a bit cheaper and just as good since the flanges are only being held by 1.5" of wood.

OK, materials done, on to the actual construction!

I bought a 4'x8' section of plywood and had Home Depot cut a 1' strip off the side, then cut the resulting 3'x8' in half to make two 3'x4'. Align the two 3'x4' together. Put the weights you plan on hanging on top of the board in the configuration you want; this will help you make sure the weights fit and that there's enough clearance around each weight to actually get your hands in there to put them on and pull them off. It helps a lot if you have a big piece of cardboard to draw on, like so:

I saved this from a large mirror that I bought for the gym. Yay foresight!

I put a few 1-1/4" screws into the two pieces of plywood to hold them together, but that isn't really necessary since you'll soon be putting the lags into both pieces. Place a section of pipe inside the hole of your plates and mark where the bottom of the pipe is, like so:

The hole should be wide enough where you can slide a pencil in and mark the bottom of the pipe.

Remove the plate and place a flange where you marked the pipe. Attach the flange to the plywood using the 3" lag screws.

Even though they say pre-drilling isn't necessary, I found it useful to put a very short 1/8" pilot hole in -- this helps the lag get into the wood to start, and makes it easier to put the screw in straight. Don't screw the lag all the way in! It's longer than the plywood is thick, and you'll damage whatever's underneath the plywood.

Once you've attached all the flanges, you're ready to hang the rack on the wall. Start by locating your studs; you'll want to make sure you put the rack into at least two studs, and you're better off with three (depending on where your studs are, this might mean having a different width of plywood). I found it a lot easier to rest the rack on a box, but if you don't have something of the right height, it shouldn't be too bad to have a friend hold it for you -- once you get the first 2-3 screws in, he can let go.

Put all the 5" lags into the wall first, then finish putting the 3" lags all the way in (the reason for this is that you want the rack as tight to the wall as you can get, and putting the 3" lags all the way in will make them stick out the back and make it harder to pull the rack flush to the wall). 

Screw in the pipe sections to the flanges. You can now test the holding power of the pipes -- just grab on to one of them and hang, and see if you feel any wiggling. Rack the weights and you're done! Go enjoy your newfound extra floor space -- I recommend some burpees.

Final result! Paint if you like.

Remembering Biscuit, 2000-2011

(Reposted from Facebook.)


We are overwhelmed with sadness this morning to share the sudden departure of our wonderful, lovable, dopey, sweet, ten-year-old Biscuit, who passed away last night. His last day was much like any normal day, spent at our feet. His health deteriorated rapidly in the late evening and he passed in the early hours of September 4, 2011. We are thankful that he was happy and pain-free right up until the end and that we were able to be there with him when he left us.

We’ll always remember the things that made him so great, or at least just made us laugh:

- Wildly bicycling his legs in the air

- Doing his bunny impression or making funny upside down dog faces

- Misjudging where he lay down and ending up with his face smushed against the couch or legs propped up on a suitcase

- How he’d just tolerate Sugar cuddling with him

- Wriggling his head under the covers on weekend mornings and waiting for minutes just to get a pat on the head…and sometimes waking us up by sneezing on us or putting his cold nose on us

- Going to ultimate frisbee tournaments with mommy and hanging out on the sidelines all day together

- Sneaking up behind guests and putting his head in their crotch…and staying there

- How Sugar would run underneath him until she got too big and then she’d do it anyway

- Laying the worst silent but deadly farts. They were fishy.

- Turning his head to watch us as he ate and having food fall out of his mouth

- Lying down in the street during a walk when he didn’t feel like going anymore, or getting his leash trapped behind his front leg and holding it up awkwardly until his leash popped free, then walking as though nothing had happened

- The time he ran outside to pee and found himself in 3 inches of standing water and just looked around in a panic before gingerly picking his way out

- Tricking him into jogging on our walks and playing Red Light Green Light because he would stop if he thought we were jogging, but he would keep going if he didn’t look back at us and see us jogging

- Throwing a Frisbee or stick for him to fetch, and him just looking at us with a smile, as if to say “that was neat! Do that again!”

- How he was so passive that at the dog park, not only would other dogs hump him but they’d often hump him right in the face…except that one time when he was humping another dog, and it happened so rarely that mommy actually cheered him on

- How he hated water, even though he was a retriever

- The time daddy let him off leash to chase ducks, and he followed them down a hill and right into the water, and how he came back over the hill soaked, sad, and duckless

- When he really had to pee, how he’d come sprinting around the corner and would hit the screen door so hard he’d bend it and knock it off its hinges and drag it halfway into the yard…and how he’d then stop and awkwardly move his head around, as if to say, “Hey…I am trapped…under a force field…”

- The time it looked like there was blood in his poop, but it turned out that he had just eaten a red video game controller

- How we thought he was so smart that he freed himself from a locked bathroom…when it turned out he was just stubborn enough to keep throwing himself against the door until the latch popped open

- Racing madly around the house with a crazed look in his eyes, chasing Sugar or being chased

- How he’d get too excited and try to hump Sugar, who’d just lie down and ignore him, but he’d keep humping away at the air a foot above her

- The way he could tell when we were really sad, and how he'd put his head next to us, but not pushy, and let us pet him until we felt better

- Dancing in the living room with his mommy

- The voice we imagined he’d have if he could talk: slow and dopey but happy

- Freeing sugar from the gate and then getting stuck behind it himself

- Writing letters in Biscuit’s voice

- Going to the dog park to play w/people – when dogs came up to sniff him, he’d jerk away, as if to say, “whoa, whoa, personal space, buddy!” …and then hiding under the bench like an ostrich, where if he couldn’t see the other dogs they couldn’t see him

- Chasing his own back leg until he caught it and then hopping around on three legs until he fell down and lay there gnawing on his own leg

- All the stories that mommy told her coworkers about him being passive, causing them to nickname him “Siscuit”

- How he never really learned any commands, other than “sit” and “Sugar, come”

- Lying underneath daddy’s desk in the winter and being a furry foot warmer

- The March Madness brackets he and Sugar would enter based on mascot names…and the year they picked 3 of the Final Four teams and mommy and daddy only picked one on their “real” bracket

- Getting stuck in a confined space and not walking backwards, but just plowing forwards

- Forgetting how to use the doggy door to come in and looking all excited when we showed him the magical new entrance (same doggy door)

- How he hated having his ears touched, so when mommy gave him haircuts she’d have to cut other hair and then sneak attack his ears

- When you found the good spot for scratching and his back leg would twitch

- Spooning with mommy or daddy on the carpet

- Coming to work with his daddy and then spending all day under someone else’s desk, or the day he lay down in the central hallway of the office in front of the drink fridge so that virtually anyone who had to go anywhere would stop and pet him

- The $75 dog bed that he never slept in once, but tore up until he could wrap his legs around it and furiously hump it

- Dressing him up as a biker dog or cowboy for Halloween (Daddy drew the line at a tutu, though he did look great in Sugar’s Dorothy costume)

- When grandma and grandpa came to stay and they were above our room, and he got up in the middle of the night to investigate the strange noise, and barked (first time ever, and one of only two or three times his whole life)…and jumped because his own barking scared himself

- How we gave him a doggy IQ test by throwing a blanket over his head to see how long it would take him to get out from under it…and how he just lay down and took a nap instead

- That he never wanted to be on the couch or the bed because he didn’t understand why the ground was smushy there

- How you could trick him into coming inside by pretending to have something in our hand and just being really excited about it…and how once he got inside he would forget what he came in for

- Putting his head on our laptop keyboards or under our mousing hands just to get us to pet him

- The way he converted both our moms, who are still scared of big dogs, into Biscuit-lovers; Gillian’s mom: “He is the best dog I’ve ever known.”

- How everyone who met him loved him, and how people at the dog park would tell us, “I think your dog really likes me!” not knowing that he “really liked” everyone

- How he started our family


He wasn’t a kisser, but he’d stay still all day for hugs. He wasn’t the brightest dog, but he definitely was one of the sweetest. He found his forever home with us. We loved him very much.

Biscuit, people always said you weren’t the smartest, but in the end you understood that the only thing that matters is the love you give and the love you get, and you gave more love and asked for less in return than anyone. Bye, buddy. We’ll miss you.

The most ridiculous meal ever

(I'm going to apologize up front for not having any pictures to go with this post. Sorry.)

So last night, Gillian and I had plans to go to dinner with my friend and longtime coworker Bruce and his wife.*

* I should say that whenever I see those Dos Equis "the most interesting man in the world" commercials, I think of Bruce, because...well, let's see, he's:

- among the smartest people I know (and let's face it, my friends are, generally speaking, pretty damned smart)
- an amateur gourmet chef who's made his own cheese, cured meats, and owns not only a chest freezer for storing vacuum sealed locally sourced sustainably raised meat, but also a sous vide oven (more on that in a second)
- married to a professional belly dancer
- a competitive Muay Thai kickboxer

Oh yes, and when he was younger he literally ran away and joined the circus. And did I mention that when I first met him, he wore his hair in a dreadlock mohawk? A blue dreadlock mohawk?

Stay thirsty, my friends.

So we went to Bourbon Steak, a Michael Mina restaurant in Union Square. As it turns out, Bruce's brother-in-law happens to be the head chef of Bourbon Steak, and on this particular evening, I'm told that he personally made everything we were served. Yum!

Our appetizer course was highlighted by this absolutely gorgeous squash-centric plate that was so beautiful I couldn't tell if it was food or art, and a butter-poached lobster sitting on a delicate samosa that was just delectable. But the entrees kicked it into a higher gear: Gillian ordered the lobster pot pie, which they re-plated at our table, putting the flaky pastry crust on the plate and removing the lobster from the pot and arranging the cut pieces of meat in the shape of a lobster on the crust, then drizzling the vegetables and pot pie juice over the meat; and I ordered the "beef and broccoli" - a huge chunk of short rib served over thin slices of Chinese broccoli.

This short rib is cooked sous vide -- a method of cooking where you hold a food at a very precise temperature in a water bath for a long time. In this case, the short rib is braised at 140 degrees for 72 hours. And it. is. the. best. short rib. I've ever had. Literally every time I put a bite in my mouth I had to close my eyes just to focus my senses on the taste and texture and smell of the meat. Mmmmmmm.

I'd actually been debating ordering the wagyu ribcap, which happened to be the most expensive thing on the menu, but Bruce convinced me to get the short rib instead, and I'm glad he did! Wagyu is a term for beef that is also known, more famously, as kobe; ribcap is a cut of meat that apparently is close to the very tender ribeye, but happens to be located right next to the bone, on top of a layer of fat. Mmm, fat. It's as tender as filet but has more of the flavor of a nice prime rib. And, I kid you not, the short rib put it to shame.

How do I know? Because between appetizers and dessert, the chef decided to send us all a cut of the wagyu ribcap. You know, just to say, hey, thanks for dining with us today.

So we've had appetizers. We've had a very generous portion of entree. The chef threw in a sampler plate of the best cut of meat in the house. (I didn't even mention the truffled mac 'n' cheese or the wild mushroom gratin sides.) And then? And then dessert, of course! We didn't even see a dessert menu; they just started bringing out dishes. There were cinnamon-sugar beignets with Macallan caramel sauce (yum); a peanut butter-chocolate bar with caramel ice cream on a bed of ground pretzels (yum yum); shortcake with strawberries, vanilla bean ice cream, and lemon curd (drooling on myself a little just remembering it); and pineapple upside down cake with coconut sherbet (I almost made myself throw up because we didn't finish it and I was so full and I didn't want it to go to waste so I kept eating it until I realized it would be horribly impolite to yak in the middle of the restaurant so I let the waiter take it away -- but I closed my eyes when she did so I didn't have to see the non-empty plate leave the table).

All in all, we were at the restaurant close to three and a half hours (we spent a little time hanging out in the bar/lounge area eating truffle butter popcorn).

Oh yes, and in the middle of it all, one of the hosts comes over to our table and says, "Hey. I thought you'd like to meet Lars Ulrich."

Um, what?

Am I not understanding this right, or does this not say:

"It's super effective! It's SO effective, if it doesn't work, YOU CAN SEND ANOTHER ONE! WOOOOO!"

How is that different from, you know, every other method of communication?

Bring your dog to work day!

OK, technically every day is BYDTW Day here at Zynga, but I decided to try bringing Biscuit in today, just to see how he does.

So far so good!


Yay! I'm in a car! I love cars!


Yeah, this is kind of how I feel sometimes too.

Never turn it off

You know how they say that the truly great athletes are hyper-competitive, how there are stories of how they'd want to beat you at marbles or ping-pong or tiddlywinks? This is one of those stories.

It's the fall of 1994, and my friend Leighton is a freshman at Stanford. He and his buddy Winston decide, hey, it'd be fun to go down to the common room and play some ping-pong, maybe meet some of the other freshmen. They head down there and find a couple of other guys playing, so they wait their turn. Eventually Leighton squares off against someone he doesn't know.

"I haven't played in a while," says Leighton, "so take it easy."

Next thing he knows the guy is slamming every chance he gets. And talking trash! "You can't touch my serve!", "Can you handle that?" "Oh, here it comes again!" He beats Leighton pretty handily and stays on the table.

Now, what he doesn't know is that Winston is really good at ping-pong. Like, really, really good. And Winston decides, hey, you're gonna embarrass my friend, I'm gonna embarrass you. So he steps up and starts tossing points away, lets the guy build up a huge lead, he's down 15 points, something like that. Then he starts playing for real for real. He's putting spin on his serves the other guy can't even see, he's returning the other guy's slams twice as hard as they came, he's basically tearing him apart. As he makes his inevitable comeback, the other guy's still talking:

"Man, what is that spin? Is that even legal?"
"That's a lucky shot! A lucky shot!"

And finally, as he realizes he's going to lose, each time he shanks a ball wide or hits it into the net, he exclaims in frustration, "This isn't my sport, man! This isn't my sport!"

A little while later, Leighton and Winston decide it might not be the best idea to make enemies on the first day of school, so they go over to introduce themselves.

"I'm Leighton," he says, "and this is Winston."

"Nice to meet you," replies the other guy. "I'm Tiger."

So this was kind of awesome

Yes, this is the real thing.

No, we were not allowed to touch it.