What The Ruck?!?!
By Coach Travis Hahn, CF-L2
Back in November of 2025, my Section Supervisor put out a message to our group chat:
“There will be a Norwegian Ruck March on March 7th, drill weekend. Please let me know if you plan to do it so I can submit a list of participants.”
Hell yeah! Let’s go! It had been a while since I trained for an event… But what the heck was the Norwegian Ruck March? As it turns out, it’s a very challenging event. The Norwegian Ruck March (or Norwegian Foot March as the event is called) is a foreign military event that awards a medal to be worn on your dress uniform if you complete the event while also meeting the requirements. The requirements are as follows:
-30Km (18.6 miles) Ruck march
-25lb ruck, dry weight (that’s before you add snacks or water)
-Duty uniform (OCP’s, our lovely modern camo uniform)
-Boots
-Guys have about 4.5 hours to complete it, age group pending. Ladies get an extra hour, again, age group pending.
It had been a couple years since I had done any rucking, but I had done a considerable amount of weight vest training that was close to the weight for the march. How would I train for this? I needed my gear too since I was halfway around the world and really wanted to not just complete the march, but finish it in a certain time.
We’ve gotten a little ahead of ourselves. Let’s back this up some. And as always, “We’re gonna break this down, Barney style”.
No, Siri, I really did mean “ruck” and not “duck”
So what is rucking first of all? Rucking is the military term for hiking or backpacking. Soldiers, Marines, and especially members of the special operations community in all US military branches, are expected to be physically fit enough to carry extremely heavy weight in large back packs called rucksacks/rucks or bergrens depending on where you’re from (looking at you, UK) over long distances. When I was a wee private, many many moons ago, the longest ruck I did in basic was 12 miles. My wife also completed that same ruck last year at the youthful age of 42. I remember it sucking terribly and I didn’t want a repeat of that experience. More on that later.
In recent years, rucking has become more popular. You can see folks walking at the park with military style rucks, hiking backpacks, or even some sort of weight vest. In a WebMD September 2024 article by Rachel Reif Ellis and medically reviewed by Zilpah Sheikh, MD titled “Rucking: The Ultimate Guide to This Exercise Trend” it stated:
Rucking is low-impact, simple, and you don’t need special or expensive equipment to get started. Here’s what it can do for your fitness:
Add oomph to your existing aerobic workout. Walking is a great physical activity, and by adding weights, you burn more calories and increase the impact of your exercise. Added weight trains your balance and strength, too.
Increase your low-impact options. If you deal with joint issues or other conditions that limit you to low-impact routines, adding rucking to your workout roster can increase intensity and strength training while keeping the stress on your joints low.
Improve your endurance. In one study, researchers found that 10 weeks of exercising while carrying weights increased both exercise performance and people’s idea of how hard they could push themselves.
Maintain muscle strength as you age. As you get older, you lose muscle mass. A study on older women showed that walking with weights improved leg strength and their mobility (ability to get around).
Build bone. Walking with added weight can improve bone density and help prevent bone loss as you age. This is especially helpful for women after menopause.
Prevent disease. Rucking, like other types of aerobic and strength-focused physical activities, can help reduce the risk of age-related health conditions such as type 2 diabetes, heart disease, sarcopenia (muscle loss), and osteoporosis (weakened bones).
Boost mental health. Not only does rucking give you the mental health lift that exercise can, it also gets you outdoors. Spending time outside in the fresh air and sunshine, especially if you’re combining it with social connection by rucking in a group, is a winning mental health combo.
“Can we do it? Yes, we can!”
I wanted a training plan and came up with the wild idea of “Hey, Garmin offers free run training plans in their app so I’ll just use the slowest half marathon plan they offer”. Pace-wise I was looking at around a 13:00/mile pace. I started with just doing “base mileage” or getting used to running for time/distance on a more frequent basis. A couple runs a week for a couple miles each at an easy pace. No sweat. Then I started walking with roughly 25lbs of water in my gym/computer bag on the weekends for what was supposed to be my long run. I used these long slow distance (LSD) runs to help me work on several key tasks.
I needed to spend time carrying weight. I was going to have to work up to almost double the required weight and carry it for several hours without rest.
I needed to work on my form and pace. Engaging my core, slight forward lean, how much I needed to bend my knees through my stride and how short/quickly I needed my stride to be to maintain pace.
I needed to get my fluid and food intake dialed in. Constantly taking sips every few minutes, small snacks about every 45 minutes
I needed to mentally prepare myself for when it inevitably started to suck. The more it hurt now, the less it would hurt later.
I needed to practice under conditions that closely mirrored what I was going to do ie boots, pants, and bad weather.
After a couple weeks, my weight vest (20lbs) and Go Ruck pack came in and I shifted gears. I started doing runs with my weight vest and rucked a little heavier or longer on the weekends. If I had already rucked a certain distance in the training schedule, then the next time I did it I did so with my pack and vest to increase weight. Eventually I got the boots I wanted and started breaking them in with the occasional run and every ruck thereafter. I started wearing pants on the LSD days.
The whole time I was training I still did CrossFit and strength training a couple times a week as well as swim class 3 nights a week for about 1.5 hours. At least one day a week, I did nothing or stretched to recover. Several days out of the week I ran/rucked AND swam or did CrossFit. I needed to spend time moving while being exhausted mentally and physically. Train the mind and the body will follow.
After a couple months, and once I felt that I had the capability to safely execute it, I began practicing the intervals strategy I wanted to use on the day of the event. I would fast walk the first mile as part of my warmup, jog for 3:00 at a 10:00-10:30/mile pace, then fast walk for 6:00 at/under 15:00/mile pace. The plan was to keep alternating, 3:00 “on”, 6:00 “off”. It worked pretty well… for now.
“Sorry, I zoned out for a bit there”
In my library is a book, an invaluable tool, called Ruck Up or Shut Up: A Comprehensive Guide to Special Forces Assessment & Selection by Dr. David Walton, US Army Green Beret (Retired). There is a particular section titled Misery Management and in it he discusses the importance of cognitive training while rucking. I’m paraphrasing that section with the following:
“There is just something unique about the way the mind starts to insulate itself when the ruck continuously squeezes into the shoulders and back… But SFAS is different…. You are continuously assessed across multiple events and multiple domains while wearing a ruck. If you want to engage in those assessments in a diminished mental state, then you will likely not assess well…Throw in some cognitive tasks along with your rucking workouts. Every hour perform a word scramble or similar task…Learn to manage your misery.
Whether it’s rucking, long runs, or even a MetCon, I’m usually doing time calculations in my head. For this event it went something like this:
“I just finished a jog. I’m 1:28:00 in. My next jog interval is at 1:33:00 (After the first hour, I switched to 3 on, 5 off). I’m 6.5 miles in so I’m doing okay on time. My goal is to keep my average under 15:00/mile pace. My current average is around 13:30/mile pace right now, but I know that’s going to deteriorate over the next couple hours. Looking good, T. Stay flexible, stay sharp.”
Another part of “managing my misery” is something that has taken years of effort and practice and that is mental fortitude. I’ve learned to manage my self-talk. Instead of:
“This sucks. I can’t do it.”
Or
“I’m hurting. I’m going to quit”
I answer that with:
“Of course it sucks, dummy. That’s why we’re doing it.”
“This is the opportunity you were looking for. You wanted another cookie for the cookie jar. Remember that time when…”
“You’re almost done. Down to the last mile/minutes/reps. Hold on just a little longer”
“We’ve still got a ways to go and we didn’t do all that training to quit. Ease off the gas a little, breathe, and just keep moving.”
I came back to the states about a week before the event. I did one final ruck with my actual ruck, an old school ALICE (All-Purpose Lightweight Individual Carrying Equipment) pack that I was using for the event as we could only use military issued gear. 55lbs, 8 miles in boots and uniform pants, under 2 hours. I was drenched, I was tired, but I was ready to succeed.
In the Star Wars Episode 1 Journal: Darth Maul, the quote Maul uses for meditation, “There is no strength where pain lies”, has always stuck with me. We know it better as “Pain is weakness leaving the body.” Dostoyevsky probably was rucking when he concluded that “Suffering is the sole origin of consciousness.” This is what I prepared for.
Runners ready! Set! Go!
The day of the event arrived. I checked in, got my numbers, weighed my ruck, pinned said numbers on myself and the ruck, made last minute adjustments and additions, then walked to the starting line. I stretched and I breathed and I went to the bathroom hoping it was the only time I would have to do so for the next 5 hours. Memories of going 6 times before my first marathon came back to me.
There were 5 of us from my squadron doing the event and I was the only one in Chalk 2 (the second group of runners that would start 5:00 after the first group). The first group left and I was reminding myself to stick to my plan and not go out hot like me and every other CrossFitter has a tendency of doing. Ear buds in and off we go. Let the rabbits run. I’ll catch them later.
For the next several hours I fast walked, jogged, listened to D&D podcast (don’t judge me), drank copious amounts of fluids and had a few snacks. I stuck to my plan. I did my pace calculations. I stayed happy and mostly present. One of my squadron members dropped out after we finished the 4-mile segment on the levee, some 11 miles in. His feet were done (the pictures he took were not pretty) and I didn’t blame him. EVERYONE hated the levee section and I believe it claimed quite a number of victims that day. I was so glad when we finished that segment. We hit the final turnaround point somewhere around mile 13 and I was ecstatic. The course now doubled back on itself, so runners got a bit of a pick me up when they saw people coming back from the other direction. I saw my friend Annie, the only female in our squadron to do the event. She was hurting, but still in it.
“We’re almost done Annie! The turnaround is after the next curve in the road and then we head back to start. You’ve got plenty of time to finish.”
Then there was mile 15. My groin muscles started getting tight, readying themselves to cramp. I said a lot of 4 letter words you can’t say around kids or in church.
“New plan. 1 minute on, 3 minutes off.”
I had about an hour to meet my cut off time of 4:35:00. I was going to finish and I was going to beat the cut off. Everything hurt. My jog was more like a fast walk, and my fast walk wasn’t that great either. I stuck with it. I got to the final mile. Time was running out. I saw a young soldier in front of me, opening the gap between us. Time to chase rabbits.
“F@ck it! ‘Siri, play my “murder music” playlist.’”
I jogged. I held on. I chased him down all the way to the finish line.
“Do you want to see the medic?”
“Sure. Why not? Couldn’t hurt more than I already do.”
The first to finish did so in 3:30:00. The next guy did it in 4:00:00. I did it in 4:24:26, 11 minutes ahead of the cutoff. The guy I was racing to the finish? He started 5 minutes ahead of me and was trying to keep pace with me to the finish. Out of the 5 of us from my squadron, 1 dropped, the rest finished, but only 2 of us beat our cut off times. I later found out a large number of people dropped out of the march or didn’t meet their cutoff times.
Another cookie for the cookie jar.
