Welcome back to Just Ruck It, I’m your host Lindsay and if you’re from New York, you know this winter was no joke. It cracked the top ten for coldest and snowiest — and somehow it still feels like it’s hanging on. Punxsutawney Phil gave us six more weeks, but New York’s own Dunkirk Dave is calling for a mild spring.

And I don’t know about you — but a couple warm days and some snow melt has me absolutely itching to get back on the trails.

Because I’ll be honest…

I’ve been a bit of a slacker this winter.

Other than a treadmill and some 1K walks inside at work I haven’t done too much since we last talked.
 
 And let me tell you — that is BORING.

No wind.
 No mud.
 No hills.
 No fun.

Just fluorescent lighting and a screen.

Today’s episode is as much for me as it is for you.

This is our Spring Reset.

Segment 1: Start With an Honest Assessment

Before we jump back into “last year’s fitness,” we need to assess reality.

Ask yourself:

• What distance feels comfortable right now?
• What weight can I carry without my posture falling apart?
• How many days per week can I realistically commit to?

For me?
 I am not at last fall’s shape. Not even close.

And that’s fine.

Spring injuries happen because people pretend winter didn’t happen.

Don’t be a spring statistic and over do it and injure yourself. Your first week back should feel almost too easy.

2–3 rucks.
 Moderate weight.
 Shorter distances.
 Focus on posture and how your body responds the next day.

This is to test out your body and give it a bit of a poke in the ribs to remind it that workout are a thing again.

Segment 2: Rebuild the Base (4-Week Framework)

Here’s a simple reset structure you can follow.

Week 1

• 2–3 rucks
• 30–45 minutes
• Light to moderate weight
• Comfortable pace

Week 2

• Increase time OR weight by about 10–15%
• Not both
• Pay attention to recovery

Week 3

• Add terrain or small intervals
• Keep frequency steady

Week 4

• Add in 1 pace ruck.  Whatever weight your at on flat ground for 3 miles and time it.  
• Goal is 45min or under
• We’ll add this pace ruck in each month as a test to see if you’re strength and stamina are building. 

Segment 3: Strength Reset – Support the Ruck

If you’re adding miles back in, your body needs reinforcement.

Rucking is simple — but it’s not easy on the joints if your strength base isn’t there.

We’re not overcomplicating this.

Three movements:

• Pushups
• Squats
• Stepups

That’s it.

Because if you can:

• Push your bodyweight
• Control your hips and knees
• Step up repeatedly under fatigue

You can ruck longer and more efficiently.

Why These Three?

Pushups
 Upper back and shoulder stability matter when you’re carrying weight.
 If your upper body collapses, your posture goes, and your low back pays the price.

Squats
 Every step you take is single-leg strength in motion. Squats build the foundation.

Stepups
 This is rucking specific.
 You are literally stepping up thousands of times on uneven terrain.

Stepups build:

• Glute strength
• Knee durability
• Real-world climbing power

Simple Spring Reset Circuit

Do this 2x per week.

Keep it short. Keep it repeatable.

Circuit – 3 to 4 Rounds

• 10–15 Pushups
• 15 Air Squats
• 10 Stepups per leg

Rest 60–90 seconds. Repeat.

If that feels easy:

• Slow the tempo.
• Add a ruck for stepups.
• Elevate feet for pushups.
• Increase height on stepups.

If that feels hard:

• Incline pushups.
• Reduce reps.
• Lower the step height.

The goal is not annihilation.

The goal is durability.

Optional Progression After 4 Weeks

If you want to layer it:

• Add a light dumbbell or ruck for squats.
• Turn stepups into loaded stepups.
• Add a 30-second plank at the end of each round.

Again — we’re supporting the miles, not replacing them.

Segment 4: What I’m Actually Training For

Alright. Let’s just call it what it is.

I’m still pissed about Mammoth March last year.

Yes — I made it 13 miles.
 Yes — people told me I should be proud.

And logically? Sure.

But in my gut?

It was a fail.

I didn’t cross the finish line.

And sitting on my ass all winter was not exactly a strategic redemption plan.

Turns out, redemption requires… movement.

Who knew.

Winter in New York was brutal. Top ten coldest and snowiest. It was negative twenty. Snow three feet deep. Motivation? Hibernating like a bear that pays taxes.

And I let it.

I chose treadmill miles. Indoor 1K laps at work. Fluorescent lighting cardio.

Thrilling.

I basically trained for the Olympic sport of “Avoiding Frostbite.”

And now I’m paying for it.

Because here’s the thing — I don’t just want to finish Mammoth March.

I need to.

Not for Instagram. Not for a medal.

For me.

I want that finish line.

I want to cross it knowing I didn’t baby my way into August.

And it’s not just Mammoth.

I’ve got more mountains to add to my LP9er list. More Adirondack 46ers to chip away at. Real climbs. Real elevation. Real suffering — the fun kind.

And in May there might be a three-day canoe trip down the Susquehanna. Which sounds peaceful until you realize it’s gear hauling, mud banks, and three straight days of not being soft.

So no. This reset isn’t casual.

It’s correction.

For the next 60 days, I’m moving.

Not dramatic. Not extreme. Just consistent.

Three rucks a week.
 Build the mileage back up.
 Get 25 pounds feeling normal again.
 Hit that 3-mile pace standard under 45 minutes without questioning my life choices.

Because August is coming whether I’m ready or not.

And shout out to the Great Range Athlete crew — they’ll be there in force at Mammoth March. No pressure, right? Nothing like showing up with a team to keep you honest.

So yeah.

I’ve got goals.

They’re not theoretical. They’re on the calendar.

And redemption doesn’t happen in February on a treadmill.

It happens in March, April, May — when you decide to move again.

Segment 5: Your Turn

Alright. Enough about my redemption arc.

Your turn.

What’s your brutal honesty from this winter?

Did you stay consistent?

Or did you drift?

Did you get tougher?

Or did you get comfortable?

And before you get defensive — remember this:

The only one who’s judging you is you.

No one else cares how many miles you didn’t do in January.

But you know.

So be honest with yourself.

Now — what’s your goal?

Not “I want to get back into it.”

That’s not a goal.

What are you actually aiming at?

A mountain?
 A race?
 A distance?
 A weight standard?
 A finish line you didn’t cross?

Name it.

Then ask the uncomfortable question:

How are you planning to get there?

Because wanting it doesn’t count.

Where were you last year at this time?

Were you stronger?
 More disciplined?
 More consistent?

And where are you now?

Ahead?
 Even?
 Behind?

There’s no shame in being behind.

The only problem is pretending you’re not.

Spring is your correction window.

You’ve got roughly 60 days to change your trajectory before summer hits and the calendar gets real.

So write it down.

Where you are.
 Where you want to be.
 And what you’re going to do three times a week to close that gap.

Not five.
 Not seven.
 Three.

Consistency beats drama.

And remember — nobody’s judging you.

Except you.

So make sure you’re someone you respect when summer rolls around.

Alright.

Winter had its turn.

No more blaming groundhogs.
 No more training for the Olympic sport of “complaining about the weather.”
 No more pretending indoor laps build mountain legs.

Spring is here. The snow is melting. Dunkirk Dave says it’s going to be mild — and for once, I’m choosing to believe the local guy.

You’ve got your goal.
 I’ve got mine.
 And neither one cares what we did all winter.

So start now.

Not when it’s perfect.
 Not when you “feel ready.”
 Not when the group chat agrees.

Just start moving.

Because when August shows up — and it will — I’d rather be crossing that finish line than explaining why I didn’t.

So shake off winter. Load the pack. Start the rebuild.

And remember… Life is Rucking Wonderful — and this year, I’m finishing what I start.