GORUCK Heavy Challenge: The Prelude

What my training was supposed to look like…

This year I was forced to train much differently for the Heavy than planned.

I suffered an injury to one shoulder and both hands that ruled out some of the very training that I intended to rely on, namely pushups, heavy kettlebells (32 to 40kg), and carrying a 150# log or sandbag up hills. 

… And this. But unfortunately kettlebells were pretty much a no-go while I rehabbed my shoulder and thumbs.

However, the beauty of GORUCK events is that they are so complex and uncertain that they press you to go outside your specialties and train up your weaknesses. Strength athletes probably have years of catching up to do on the aerobic side. Bodyweight exercise studs who are great at burpees and pullups can work on the lateral plane by, say, farmer carrying 70 lbs. Gym dwellers can go outside and build up hiking mileage and dial in the 1,001 details of pacing, footwear, foot care, sun and wind exposure, chafe prevention, and fueling that only come into focus after 12 or 15 miles of walking.

This is the face of LSD (long, slow distance).

So I worked around my injuries by getting under a rucksack for hours at a time. Knowing there would be a 12-mile (20km) timed ruck during the Heavy event, I did one almost every week. A big believer in the Maffetone method and long, slow distance (LSD), I rucked to work and the grocery store and anywhere else to build up a big base of easy volume. Once I could cruise 12 miles in 3 hours with no appreciable effort, I tried 24 miles (40km) and found that easy. While all that was going on, I sorted out numberless tiny but critical gear issues, like exactly which brand of socks to wear with which boots and when to change them, and how to set my pack straps for the most comfort.

Last year I feared cold water like the icy shroud of encroaching death–and that’s not rhetorical embroidery. Since then I’ve regarded cold more in Wim Hof’s way. He says, “To me, God is cold. I do not only endure the cold. I love the cold.”

I also made a point of acclimating to cold water and wind, since last time that was my big weakness. I began using the Wim Hof method, dousing myself with cold water outside every morning and swimming in cold water on hikes, to accustom myself to the cold and find out how water affected my gear. This was a huge success. I’ve always found cold weather refreshing and invigorating, and by these jumps in the creek I learned to stave off hypothermic “jackhammering” and prolong my enjoyment of the cold by continuing to breath smoothly. I also learned how to rewarm myself faster and how to avoid panic and keep moving when I did get irretrievably soaked far from shelter. And I also dialed in my fueling. 

Luckily, I could still do just enough barbell work to keep my weight up. After 30 years of lifting weights, my superpower is that I can add muscle practically just by looking at a barbell. And though I’m pretty sick of barbells at this point in my life, and I’m very sick of the physiological stress of carrying extra muscle, Army researchers say you can ruck better when you have a lot of lean body mass. So I dutifully pumped myself up to 180 lbs. (82kg), where I competed in my bygone powerlifting days. This was a blow to my vanity, because at 180 I’m smooth, waterlogged, and thick-waisted—I look better on a beach at 160. However, I’m finally mature and smart enough not to screw around with my game plan on a whim, so I stayed the course.

In the last 5-6 weeks, I added even more rucking volume and hurriedly greased the groove in pullups and pushups as soon as my shoulder and hand pain finally abated. I deliberately overspent my recovery resources so that by the time I tapered ten days before the event, I’d definitely crossed into controlled overtraining. Throughout the entire taper I felt sluggish, thick, slow, and tired and only started to feel some energy on game day. 

More to follow in the actual AAR, coming shortly.

D-Day

Today’s the day, friends. 24 hours, 40+ miles, with logs, sandbags, PT beatdowns, and surf torture along the way.

Wherever you are today, get after it! Hammer along with me and (I’m completely serious about this), please remember my team and me in your thoughts and prayers. I may be Buddhist, but I’m not choosy about where I get my numinous intercession.

Everyone Should Do LSD

Part 4 of our series “The Tao of the Lazy Badass”

Long, Slow Distance

I hate to say this, but your single biggest priority is to create some modest aerobic base. If you were cursed by an evil genie to be allowed only one kind of exercise, it would need to be something aerobic.

Come on, Eighties, you’re better than this.

Why do I hate saying that? Because it sounds so 1980s, when America fetishized cardio to the neglect of all else and said we should avoid dietary fat and live on bagels and pasta. 

But you get the most happiness, health, leanness, and energy from a modest dose of easy aerobic exercise.

And I really do mean easy. I’m talking a maximum heart rate of 180 minus your age. That’s nothing. Unless you have a good aerobic base already, that’s probably just a fast walk while swinging your arms. 

And the great part is, you benefit MUCH more from that easy pace than by pushing yourself. If you care about why, read the writings of endurance super-coach Phil Maffetone. Maffetone trains elite athletes mostly or entirely in that 180 Minus Age zone, which is also where the endorphins and the bliss are. But whether or not you concern yourself with the “why?” the important point is this: by keeping your heart rate low, you IMPROVE the training effect. You are not compromising your training by going easy. You will outperform the people who train at too high a heart rate (which is almost everyone).

How do I figure out my heart rate?

The Polar FT1. It’s old, basic, debugged, and the least expensive of the reliable, useful ones. If Stalin had a heart rate monitor, it would be this one.

Buy a heart rate monitor. You’ll need to spend about $60 for an adequate, reliable basic model. Frugal to a fault, I seldom recommend throwing away money on wiz-bang fitness devices. But a heart rate monitor is one of the few exceptions. It really does help SO much that it’s a must-buy even for a tight-fisted Buddhist stoic who thinks that if the Red Army considered something an unnecessary frippery, you can too.

No, you don’t need to start running

Leonard’s Schwartz’s forgotten classic, Heavy Hands. Run, do not walk, to this book. Or at least power walk there.

So do I mean that you should start walking or running? Nope. Do anything that elevates your heart rate to that magic number and holds it there steadily. You can ride a bike, roller blade, paddle or row, ski or snowshoe, and you might also really like another obscure activity from the 80s called HeavyHands. Trust me on this one: HeavyHands is awesome and makes you feel incredible.