Skip to main content

Cold Plunges Probably Aren't Doing What You Think

  The cold plunge became the ultimate biohacker flex. The research paints a much more complicated picture — and for lifters, it might actually be counterproductive. Cold water immersion went from a niche recovery tool used by elite athletes to a mainstream wellness trend seemingly overnight. Social media is full of people climbing into ice baths at dawn, filming their gasping reactions, and claiming benefits ranging from reduced inflammation to improved focus to accelerated fat loss. Cold plunge tubs are now a multi-billion dollar market. It made ACSM's trending fitness list in 2025. The appeal is understandable. There's something viscerally satisfying about doing something uncomfortable and believing it makes you better. And cold exposure does have real physiological effects — it triggers a norepinephrine release, vasoconstriction, and an acute stress response that genuinely makes you feel alert and energized. But "it makes you feel good" and "it improves your t...

Rucking: Legitimate Training Tool or Overhyped Walking?

 It's the hottest "new" trend in fitness — even though the military has been doing it for centuries. The question is whether it actually delivers what the marketing promises.

Rucking — walking with a weighted backpack or vest — has exploded in the fitness mainstream over the past year. GORUCK built a brand around it. Influencers film sunrise ruck marches through their neighborhoods. Weighted vest sales have surged. The pitch is compelling and simple — take the most accessible form of exercise (walking) and make it harder by adding load. More calorie burn, more strength, better bone density, functional fitness. All without stepping foot in a gym.

It's a clean narrative. And to be fair, rucking isn't nonsense. There's something real there. But the gap between what the rucking community claims and what the research actually supports is wide enough to walk through — weighted pack or not.

Photo by Intenza Fitness on Unsplash


What Rucking Actually Does to Your Body

Let's start with what's genuinely true. Adding external load to walking increases energy expenditure. That's basic physics. Pandolf et al. (1977) established this decades ago in research published in the Journal of Applied Physiology, developing a predictive equation for the metabolic cost of load carriage that the military still uses. Walking with a 30-pound pack at a moderate pace increases calorie expenditure by roughly 30-45% compared to unloaded walking at the same speed. The heavier the load and the faster the pace, the greater the metabolic cost.

That's a meaningful bump. If unloaded walking at 3.5 mph burns approximately 280-320 calories per hour for an average-sized adult, rucking with 30 pounds at the same pace pushes that into the 380-450 range. It's real. It's measurable. And for people who enjoy walking but want more training stimulus from it, it's a legitimate upgrade.

Rucking also imposes greater demands on postural muscles — the erector spinae, trapezius, and core stabilizers work harder to maintain upright posture under load. Knapik et al. (2004) published an extensive review in Military Medicine examining the physiological effects of load carriage and confirmed that sustained loaded walking increases muscular endurance in the trunk and lower extremities, particularly when performed regularly over weeks and months.

So far, so good. Rucking burns more calories than walking and challenges your postural muscles more than walking. Those claims check out.


Where the Claims Start to Fall Apart

Here's where the rucking evangelists start overselling it. The most common claims beyond calorie burn are that rucking builds meaningful strength, improves bone density, and can serve as a substitute for resistance training. These claims range from exaggerated to unsupported.

On strength: rucking primarily loads the body in a vertical, repetitive pattern at relatively low intensities. The loads most people ruck with — 20 to 40 pounds — are a fraction of what the musculoskeletal system encounters during even basic resistance training. A 180-pound person doing bodyweight squats is loading their legs with 180 pounds through a full range of motion. That same person rucking with a 30-pound pack is adding 17% to their bodyweight in a straight-line walking pattern with minimal range of motion at the knee and hip.

Kraemer and Szivak (2012) outlined in the Journal of Strength and Conditioning Research that meaningful strength adaptations require progressive overload at intensities sufficient to recruit high-threshold motor units — typically above 60% of one-rep max for trained individuals. Rucking doesn't come close to this threshold for anyone with a baseline level of fitness. It's a cardiovascular and muscular endurance stimulus, not a strength stimulus. Calling it "strength training" is a fundamental mischaracterization of what the activity actually does.

On bone density: the claim that rucking improves bone mineral density is theoretically plausible but poorly supported by direct evidence. Impact loading and resistance training are the two primary stimuli for bone adaptation, per research by Kohrt et al. (2004) published in Medicine and Science in Sports and Exercise. Rucking provides some additional ground reaction force compared to unloaded walking, but the magnitude is modest — far less than running, jumping, or heavy squatting. There are no controlled studies demonstrating that rucking specifically improves bone density in healthy adults. The claim gets repeated because it sounds reasonable, not because it's been tested.


The Injury Risk Nobody Talks About

One of the most well-documented aspects of rucking isn't a benefit — it's the injury profile. Military research on load carriage is extensive because it's a massive source of musculoskeletal injuries in service members.

Knapik et al. (2004) reported that load carriage is one of the leading causes of overuse injuries in military populations, particularly affecting the lower back, knees, and feet. The injury risk increases substantially with load — packs above 30% of bodyweight significantly increase stress on the lumbar spine and lower extremity joints. For a 150-pound person, that threshold is just 45 pounds. For a 200-pound person, 60 pounds.

The fitness rucking community generally stays below these thresholds, which reduces risk. But the fundamental biomechanical concern remains — sustained compressive loading on the spine during locomotion is not a benign stimulus, particularly for people with pre-existing back issues or those who lack the core strength and postural endurance to maintain good alignment under load. The military treats rucking as a necessary occupational requirement and accepts the injury risk because there's no alternative for combat readiness. Recreational exercisers choosing rucking over other options should at least be honest about the trade-offs.

Birrell and Haslam (2010) published findings in Applied Ergonomics demonstrating that loaded walking alters gait mechanics, increasing ground contact time and changing joint loading patterns in ways that accumulate stress over distance. These changes are subtle on any single ruck but compound over weeks and months of regular training.


Where Rucking Actually Makes Sense

None of this means rucking is worthless. It occupies a specific and useful niche — if you understand what that niche is and don't ask it to do more than it can.

Rucking is excellent as a low-intensity cardiovascular training tool that's more demanding than walking but less impactful than running. For people who can't or don't want to run — whether due to joint issues, preference, or body composition — rucking provides a way to elevate heart rate and energy expenditure while staying in a manageable intensity range. It's Zone 2 with extra steps, literally.

It's also genuinely useful for people training for outdoor activities that involve load carriage — hiking, backpacking, hunting, military or tactical fitness. If you're going to carry a 40-pound pack up a mountain, training with a loaded pack is specific preparation that improves your capacity for that exact task. Specificity matters, and rucking is specific preparation for loaded locomotion.

For mental health and general well-being, rucking offers the same benefits as walking — time outdoors, low-barrier movement, stress reduction — with a slightly greater physical challenge that some people find more engaging. There's real value in an activity that gets sedentary people moving consistently, and if rucking accomplishes that where walking alone didn't, that's a win.

Where rucking falls short is as a replacement for resistance training, a primary tool for body composition change, or a meaningful stimulus for strength and bone density. It doesn't do any of those things as well as the alternatives, and pretending it does is a disservice to people who might be better served by picking up a barbell.


How It Compares to the Alternatives

This is the comparison the rucking community avoids. If your goal is cardiovascular fitness, cycling and incline treadmill walking produce similar or greater cardiovascular stress with significantly less spinal loading. If your goal is calorie burn, running burns roughly twice the calories per hour as rucking at common recreational loads. If your goal is strength or bone density, even a basic resistance training program with squats, deadlifts, and loaded carries will produce dramatically greater adaptations.

Rucking's advantage is simplicity and accessibility. You need a pack and some weight. No gym, no equipment, no technical skill. That's genuinely valuable for a certain population. But simplicity isn't the same as effectiveness, and the fitness internet has a tendency to confuse the two.

The most honest framing of rucking is this — it's enhanced walking. It makes an already beneficial activity slightly more challenging. For people who enjoy it and do it consistently, it will improve their cardiovascular fitness and muscular endurance over time. It will not, however, replace the adaptations that come from dedicated strength training, and anyone telling you otherwise is selling something.


The Takeaway

Rucking is a real training tool with real but limited applications. It burns more calories than walking, improves muscular endurance in postural muscles, and serves as solid low-intensity cardiovascular training. It does not build meaningful strength, has no direct evidence supporting bone density improvements, and carries a documented injury risk that increases with load.

If you enjoy rucking, keep doing it. Just don't fool yourself into thinking it replaces what happens in the weight room. It's a complement, not a substitute. And the best training program is still the one that includes both.


Sources:

  • Pandolf, K.B. et al. (1977). Predicting Energy Expenditure With Loads While Standing or Walking Very Slowly. Journal of Applied Physiology.
  • Knapik, J.J. et al. (2004). Soldier Load Carriage: Historical, Physiological, Biomechanical, and Medical Aspects. Military Medicine.
  • Kraemer, W.J. & Szivak, T.K. (2012). Strength Training for the Warfighter. Journal of Strength and Conditioning Research.
  • Kohrt, W.M. et al. (2004). Physical Activity and Bone Health. Position Stand. Medicine and Science in Sports and Exercise.
  • Birrell, S.A. & Haslam, R.A. (2010). The Effect of Load Distribution Within Military Load Carriage Systems on the Kinetics of Human Gait. Applied Ergonomics.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Why Running May Not Be the Best Starting Point If You're Overweight — And What to Do Instead

  The advice "just go for a run" is well-meaning. But for many people, it can do more harm than good — here's what the science actually recommends. Every January, gyms fill up and sidewalks see a surge of new runners. The logic makes sense on the surface — running burns calories, it's free, and you can start right outside your front door. But for people carrying significant excess weight, jumping straight into running may not be the smartest or safest first move. This isn't about ability or willpower. It's about biomechanics, joint health, and setting yourself up for long-term success rather than a frustrating injury that derails everything before it starts. What Happens to Your Joints When You Run Running is a high-impact activity. Every time your foot strikes the ground, your body absorbs a force roughly  2.5 to 3 times your bodyweight  according to research published in the  Journal of Biomechanics . For a 150-pound person that's manageable. For someone...

The Bro Split: Is It Actually Effective or Just Old School Hype?

It's one of the oldest training methods in the gym — but does the science back it up? If you've spent any time in a gym, you've heard it. "What are you training today?" "Chest. You?" "Arms." That's the bro split in a nutshell — dedicating each training day to a single muscle group, hitting it hard, and moving on. For decades it was  the  way serious lifters trained. Then the fitness internet came along and declared it dead. Push/pull/legs took over. Full body routines became the gold standard. And the bro split got a reputation as outdated, inefficient, and unscientific. But here's the thing — the science tells a more nuanced story. And if you're an intermediate lifter who knows your way around a gym, the bro split might deserve a second look. Photo by  Michael DeMoya  on  Unsplash What Exactly Is the Bro Split? A classic bro split typically looks something like this: Monday  — Chest Tuesday  — Back Wednesday  — Shoulders Thursday  ...

Nobody Needs a Protein Shake Immediately After Training — The Anabolic Window Is a Myth

  You don't need to chug a shake the second your last set is done. The science buried this idea years ago — the fitness industry just didn't get the memo. If you started lifting any time in the last two decades, someone told you about the anabolic window. The concept was simple and urgent: after your workout, there's a narrow window — usually described as 30 to 60 minutes — during which your muscles are primed to absorb protein and shuttle nutrients into recovery. Miss this window, and your workout was basically wasted. Your gains would evaporate. Your muscles would start eating themselves. It sounds dramatic because it is. And for years, it drove an entire industry of post-workout shake culture. People would finish their last set and immediately race to their gym bag to mix powder and water like their physique depended on it. Supplement companies loved it. Gyms stocked shaker bottles and protein tubs at the front desk. The urgency was baked into the culture. There was just...