What I Changed: How I Completed the Norwegian Foot March
This is a follow-up to my previous post, Not Everything Goes as Planned: My Attempt at the Norwegian Foot March. If you haven't read that one yet, I recommend starting there before continuing with this post.
 |
| Picture from the Norwegian Foot March Certificate |
The Norwegian Foot March (Marsjmerket) is widely regarded as one of the most demanding foreign military marches. Last year, I attempted the march and ended falling short. While some factors were outside my control, the outcome ultimately reflected my level of preparation. I was humbled by the experience, but it also clarified something important: I had never failed to complete a ruck march before, and I wasn’t willing to let that experience defeat me. It was clear this foot march was on an entirely different level.
I’ve completed two Danish Contingencies, affectionately referred to as DANCON, Marches, and one Marche International de Diekirch. Earning the Norwegian Foot March badge would complete a personal trifecta of foreign military marches. One should not just complete one of these marches to receive a foreign military badge to wear on their uniform. It's more about doing hard things and challenging ourselves to be better. It's about working toward a goal, achieving it, the camaraderie with our battle buddies, and getting to know our NATO partners.
On the surface, rucking seems simple: put one foot in front of the other and carry weight over a distance not predetermined. In reality, it’s a skill like any other; one that demands deliberate training and development. That realization led me to a fundamental question: "Where do I begin?"
As I began preparing for this year's Norwegian Foot March, I set out to learn everything I could about rucking. I expected to find only basic advice; generic eight or sixteen-week plans emphasizing carrying loads up high and arbitrary mileage to log. Instead, I came across research that offered a much deeper understanding, including studies conducted during Special Forces Assessment and Selection (SFAS). In that environment, rucking isn’t just another task; it’s widely considered one of the most predictive metrics of success for selection.
I’m a retired Army veteran, so I don’t need to train as if I’m preparing for SFAS; however, the underlying principles still apply. They just needed to be adjusted to my needs.
From that research, I identified four key areas to focus on:
Endurance (Zone 2)
Strength
Durability (injury resistance)
Rucking pace
Endurance emerged as the foundation. Building a strong aerobic base is critical for rucking performance, especially over time. Zone 2 running, steady, conversational-paced effort, became the cornerstone of my training. Typically, I would run in Zone 2 for 30–40 minutes on the treadmill. I committed to this for over two months before reintroducing rucking into my routine.
For strength training, I alternate between upper and lower-body sessions, finishing each workout with a 30–40 minute Zone 2 run. This approach allows me to build strength while reinforcing the aerobic base that rucking demands.
After years of service, I’ve learned that durability, staying healthy and injury-free, is just as important as strength or endurance. It doesn’t matter whether I’m training in the gym or at home; that foundation has to be maintained.
Every day, I dedicate time to foam rolling and mobility work. Twice a week, I build on that with targeted corrective exercises to address imbalances and prevent breakdown. This isn’t optional, it’s a non-negotiable part of my routine.
There’s no substitute for time under load; you have to put in the miles. I capped my training at no more than two rucks per week, and when I introduced longer efforts, I limited them to once a week. That kept the volume manageable and helped reduce the risk of overuse injuries and promote recovery.
Pacing became a focus after about a month of consistent rucking. The goal wasn’t to run, but to move efficiently at a fast walk, deliberate, controlled, and sustainable. For example, on a six-mile ruck, I’d aim to cover the first four miles in an hour, then ease off slightly for the final two miles to finish strong.
When I began incorporating a light shuffle (a brief “ruck run”), I used it sparingly, only on flat terrain or gentle downhills, and typically no more than a tenth of a mile per mile. Just as important, I had to remind myself that not every session needed to be at race pace. Some days are for building capacity, not testing it.
I didn’t have a training partner to push me or pass the time with, so I did all my miles alone, in all types of weather. I also chose not to listen to music or podcasts while rucking. It may sound counterintuitive, but I found, and research shows, that distractions slow your pace. When your attention drifts to what you’re listening to, it pulls focus away from your pace and effort.
Rucking is a skill, and like any skill, it requires deliberate attention. Staying fully engaged with your stride, breathing, and rhythm made each session more effective and helped me become more efficient over time. I also believe this builds resiliency.
Pro tip:
If the dry-weight requirement is 25 lbs, aim to stay as close to that as possible. Carrying extra weight adds up quickly over distance, and your back and feet will feel the difference by the end of the event.
I also carry a bicycle water bottle, specifically ones made by Specialized. I use it exclusively for electrolytes. I prefer not to rely on sports drinks from aid stations, since unfamiliar brands can sometimes cause stomach issues.
For this march, I used an old school ALICE pack again, but I addressed one of my biggest issues from last time, lower neck and upper shoulder pain. I added a frame pad that attaches directly to the ruck frame, and it made a significant difference. The added support redistributed the weight more effectively, and I was able to complete the march nearly pain-free. Easily the best $40 I’ve invested in my ruck setup.
 |
| ALICE ruck frame with frame pad installed. |
I also rethought how I carried water. Previously, I relied on a hydration bladder to hold most of my water. While there is a requirement to carry water, there are also aid stations approximately every 3 km, and in my experience, they’ve always been well-stocked with water or sports drinks.
One downside of using a hydration bladder is that you’re likely to fill it completely, which adds about 6.6 pounds. That weight can shift as you move, which isn’t ideal over long distances. You will also not drink all the water and will end up carrying extra weight. After doing some research, I decided to go with a more traditional setup: a 2-quart canteen with a straw kit.
 |
| US 2-quart canteen with straw kit. |
Although the 2-quart canteen and its carrier are no longer standard issue, they’re still easy to find online. Not all “issued” versions are the same; you’ll want to look for the collapsible type. As for the straw kits, I’ve only come across two variants, but both use the same cap, so compatibility hasn’t been an issue. A full 2-quart canteen weighs 4.2 lbs. Between the two methods, there is a 2.4-lb difference.
You can also attach the olive drab 2-quart carrier to Molle II and Molle 4 rucks. If you don't like the old OD carrier, you can use a saw pouch or an aftermarket 2-quart MOLLE pouch.
 |
| Everyone has checked in and is waiting for the step-off time. |
The first Norwegian Foot March I planned to attempt this year was postponed due to winter weather and a high wind forecast. After months of training, the idea of waiting another six months was a tough hit to my morale.
The hosting unit had kept the route closely guarded until the last moment. During the briefing, the OIC announced that more than 500 personnel had turned out for the event. With no route published in advance and a 0400 step-off, most of the first two 10-kilometer loops would unfold in darkness. The course would be marked with chemlights, so many that it seemed the unit had purchased its year's allotment for the event.
For my age group, the required time to complete the event is five hours. After reviewing all my ruck data, I believed I could finish in 4 hours and 41 minutes. When we were given the word to go, 500 of us stepped off, moving under the weight of our rucks and guided by the dim red beams of our headlamps. Around the first-mile mark, everyone began to settle into their pace.
As we moved along the course, unit members and volunteers at the checkpoints and aid stations offered words of encouragement, water, and snacks. A van also patrolled the route, ready to pick up anyone dealing with an injury or simply having a day where finishing wasn’t in the cards.
At the 12-mile point, right around the three-hour mark, a young Marine passed me as he completed his march. It was truly remarkable to witness the endurance and speed some of these service members possess. Still, it didn’t shake my focus; I stayed focused on what I needed to do to meet my own time requirement and finish the event.
Heading into my last 10k loop, I thought I could keep a good pace, but I didn't know how much ruck running I had left in me. As I continued around the course, around the 2-mile mark, I started a slow shuffle ruck. I crossed the finish line at 4 hours and 33 minutes.
 |
| A view from behind the finish line as I rest up against the fence. |
Comments