Rucking: More than just a walk

December 27, 2024, by Alexander Holf, Polaris Rucking Crew

Rucking is simple. At its core, it’s walking with weight. A backpack, a rucksack, a sandbag—it doesn’t really matter what you carry as long as it adds resistance to your steps. But if that’s all you see, you’re missing what rucking really is. It’s not just physical; it’s mental. It’s a test of grit. And, above all, it’s a way to connect—with yourself, with others, and with the world around you.

The beauty of rucking is its accessibility. There’s no special equipment required, no elite level of fitness to start. It’s just you, your pack, and the road ahead. Whether you’re covering two kilometers or twenty, whether your pack is heavy or empty, the act of moving forward—step after step—is what matters.

Rucking builds resilience, not just in the muscles but also in the mind. With every weighted step, you feel the burden. The load reminds you it’s there, and with every step you decide to keep going, you’re also choosing not to quit. The weight becomes the teacher, and the lesson is simple: progress is progress, no matter how slow.

But rucking isn’t just about the individual. There’s something profound that happens when you ruck with others. Side by side, carrying your own weight yet sharing the journey, you form connections that are hard to replicate elsewhere. There’s no room for pretense or facades under a weighted pack. The pace may slow, your breathing may quicken, and before you know it, walls come down. They always do. Conversations flow, and bonds form over shared effort and the mutual goal of simply moving forward.

Shared adversity, however small, has a way of leveling the playing field. It strips away the distractions and reminds us that we’re all just humans, putting one foot in front of the other. Rucking is a reminder that we are stronger together, that we can carry our own burdens while still supporting those around us.

Physically, rucking is an excellent workout. It builds strength, endurance, and cardiovascular health without the joint-pounding intensity of running. But its real power lies in the intangibles. The way it sharpens your focus. The way it forces you to be present. The way it teaches you to embrace discomfort and keep moving anyway.

In a world where too much is fast, easy, and disposable, consume and forget, rucking is a return to something honest and primal. It’s about carrying weight—your weight—and making peace with it. It’s about showing up for yourself and for others. It’s about stepping out of your routine and into something real.

At its core, rucking can also be a metaphor for life. You carry your load, and the path isn’t always smooth. But you keep moving. One step, then another, and another. And when you ruck with others, you learn that while the weight might be only yours to bear, the journey doesn’t have to be.