Bhassler wrote:My understanding is that the last 30 years or so of research done by the military on rucking performance indicates that the best way to improve performance is to increase strength.
willie wrote:Bhassler wrote:My understanding is that the last 30 years or so of research done by the military on rucking performance indicates that the best way to improve performance is to increase strength.
Hi bhassler, I've been concentrating on getting my squats up for a while now. I've been doing a stripped-down version of Bulgarian powerlifting. I have to tell you that I feel strong, real strong, much stronger and much better put together then when I was a 20 year old. I'm not even a very big dude to begin with but I did finish off with a 420 lbs full parallel squat last night and then I went to 405 for 3/4 squats with reps of 6. The best way to get strong in your back and legs is squats. Nothing comes close
I would say that the taichi really helps to keep the body in true alignment when I'm doing squats.Bhassler wrote:
I don't know the specifics of your taiji method, but I'm guessing it's got your shit wired tight enough* to where you can do pretty much anything you want with good benefit.
*Saying someone's shit's wired tight means it's all together-- not "tight" in some weird sort of passive-aggressive tai chee hipster sort of way.
Squeeeez wrote:Thank you again everybody.
Yes, walking itself is the best training for walking. 80km/25h walks are not easy to simulate.
So we do up to 40km walks, and during those I try to see what weaknesses pop up which might threaten the next 40km.
I have always held ITM (and CTM in general) in great esteem regarding the training, and the resulting well-balanced body. As such I thought that you might have some good input regarding the fine-tuning
Cliff Young was a toothless 61 year-old potato farmer from Beech Forest, Victoria, who'd lived in a one-room bark hut with six brothers and sisters during the Great Depression and showed up to the starting line of the race in overalls and rain boots. The assembled media took one look at him, shoved a microphone in his face, and asked him what it was going to be like when he keeled over and died of a massive heart attack a hundred and fifty meters in to the 875-kilometer race.
He told them, "I grew up on a farm where we couldn’t afford horses or four wheel drives… whenever the storms would roll in, I’d have to go out and round up the sheep. We had 2,000 head, and we have 2,000 acres. Sometimes I would have to run those sheep for two or three days. It took a long time, but I’d catch them. I believe I can run this race; it’s only two more days. Five days. I’ve run sheep for three."
Ok, whatever, old man, good luck with that.
It also didn't help his case when the starter's pistol went off and this guy started running like this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2OD96zo ... e=youtu.be
The field blew him off the line like an '87 Camaro drag racing against the Amish. The pack traveled dozens of miles in the first day alone, pounding their pavement with the ergonomic soles of their cross-trainers while this old geezer shuffled along like a dumbass in his Wellington gumboots, his pace nowhere near that of the elite ultramarathoners who by this point were tens of miles down the road away from him.
Then night came. Exhausted from 17 hours of pushing their bodies to the limit, the racers all made camp by the side of the road and went to sleep.
All of them, that is, except Cliff Young.
You see, it turned out that when Cliff Young said he chased sheeps around his farm for three days, he meant he'd single-handedly manually herded a flock of frightened ruminants across 2,000 acres of farmland for three days straight without stopping or sleeping.
When the rest of the field woke up the one morning and saw the tiny shadow of a 61 year-old man shuffling along a few dozen miles down the road ahead of them, they realized they were in trouble. Cliff Young, an overalls-clad sexagenarian potato farmer who had previously been diagnosed with arthritis in most of his leg joints (he claimed he'd "ran it out… like running the rust off an old car") was beating the best athletes in the world – men more than half his age – in a sport that was exclusively dependent upon pushing the human body to the limits of its physical ability.
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