Did you see the 1998 Hollywood surf film In God’s Hands? The plot was thin and the acting, featuring well-known surfers in lead roles rather than real actors, was poor, but the cinematography was stunning. Besides the lavish tropical shots and gorgeous surf action, there were ethereal scenes of the surfers running on the seafloor while holding boulders to weigh them down. It may have seemed far-fetched to non-surfers in the audience, but in the 1990s, running underwater with rocks was having a bit of a moment in big-wave surfing.
The workout, according to practitioners, conditioned surfers to more effectively manage breath-holding while underwater in duress. It expands lung capacity and is a heck of a cardio workout. Old school big-wave surfers mostly surfed and figured out ways to eke out a living without working. The new breed were turning into Greek gods. Suddenly, training went beyond big-wave prep. Surfers started hitting the weight room, the yoga studio, the high school track. It wasn’t enough to simply surf to get better at surfing anymore; many good surfers were transforming themselves physically into bona fide athletes. At first, it was mostly big-wave surfers, pros, and aspiring pros. By the mid-2000s, lots of surfers, though probably not most, were treating their favorite activity as an honest to goodness sport.
I frequently ride a bit of twisty singletrack accessed by a steep, punishing fire road approach. I often see a middle-aged man jogging up the trail dragging a bag full of weights while tossing a kettlebell ahead of him into the dust, just to pick it up and toss it again. I asked him once what the deal was. Training, he said. For mountain stuff. Backpacking. Trail running. Ski touring. I was just riding uphill to get to the downhill. It was fun. I was getting fitter and better at mountain biking, but really just incidentally. I once knew a man who spent his winters hiking around the Bay Area with a backpack full of bricks in preparation for Sierra backpacking trips all summer. Made me feel like the laziest backpacker alive.
So, what about you? Do you hit the gym to make your backpacking easier? Do squats to help your downhill skiing? Swim laps to prep for surfing big days with lots of current?
Photo: Aaron Jean
Depends on the sport. I’ll fingerboard for climbing, but I rely on general fitness for backpacking and hiking.
I first started trail running about 6 years ago. I specifically did not want to train. I was all about getting outside, not turning nature into a gym. These 6 years have been a slow-motion reckoning with the need for training of some kind. Overuse injuries every 1 to 2 years have taught me the tough lessons that I am a type who needs to train to do the things I love – especially trail running. My overall goal isn’t to become a super-fast mountain runner, competing for the podium – it’s to still be running (and hiking, and biking…) in another 6 years, and the 6 years after that.
Also – shout out to Training for the Uphill Athlete!
Maybe a fourth option is needed? As in, do I vary my local trail hike to approximate intervals, with the intention of increasing my adventure ability, but never set foot in a gym because it is mentally counter-productive? I would check that box
As I reach my upper 30’s, with effective core and back conditioning in particularly, my body feels better at the end of day of hard skiing (touring or in-bounds) than when I was 20! Off-season training is crucial to not only perform better, but also to prevent injury.
What’s a gym?
It’s a windowless box people drive their cars to so that they can sit on a bike with no wheels or run on a conveyor belt that has no end. Then, when they are done working out, they get back in their cars and drive back home so they can sit on their sofa. It’s the craziest thing you have ever seen.
Half the fun of our annual backpacking trips is encouraging each other to “get our asses in shape” for the hike ahead.
I could work out at the gym, but as we age there is a limit to the amount of stress our bodies can take before chronic injuries rear their ugly head. So I use my body hard, take it easy when it hurts, and allow recovery time.
Since I mostly ride and hike these days, and because I’m able to ride and hike year round, I don’t need to use a gym to maintain off season fitness.
Like Dave P wrote, I just can’t see going to a gym, that is such an artificial environment, counter to all I believe in, so for me I’d choose to vary my sports (cross train), work on trails, dig holes, anything outside.
Here’s my two cents: More conditioning = longer participation time. I’ve learned that I can spend more time on the mountain (skiing, snowboarding, hiking, MTBing) when I am fit… and have less recovery time when I do over do it. The better shape I am in, the better my outdoor experiences are.
Exactly. I never considered it “training,” but a few years ago I went to Baldface for the first time, and it is so expensive, and so awesome, that I wanted to be able to enjoy it more the next time I went. So I got a treadmill, starting riding dirt and gravel bikes more, started taekwondo with my 10 year old, and generally just try to stay more active. It’s made a huge difference, but which part is the “training?” I bike because I like it, taekwondo is so fun, skateboarding has been my shit for over 30 years, 55 days of snowboarding last year because it makes me happy… I guess the only “training” I do would be the treadmill, because it is indoors and not necessarily just for fun.
Running cycling skiing yoga … common thread core, legs, lungs and above all mind. Gyms are for the mind the equivalent of the Gruen effect of shopping malls (purposely disorientating)
Depends on the adventure.
As a trainer, I’m trying to push boundaries. General functional fitness keeps me dynamic, and I’ll use sport-specific workouts to try to prep my body for an activity that’s upcoming, whether climbing or skiing or hiking (or sitting, to be honest…).
Sometimes when I’m on the trail, I feel like I’m floating. I might be 30 miles and a couple days into a thru-hike, my feet blistering from a new pair of Altras, but I’ll see the end of the trail or the top of a mountain or the bottom of a valley and start to run. The steeper the trail, the more my legs churn. I feel my heart pound; sweat rolls down the bridge of my nose, sent airborne in a tiny spritz with each heavy exhalation. I don’t stop for thousands of feet of elevation, miles of trail. I feel like a siphon for the energy of the earth itself.
Anyway, the only other place I experience this is in my dreams. Sometimes, if I’m really, really lucky, like I was in Colorado on the Cascade Creek Trail, the boundary between the dream and reality dissolves entirely. Beyond time and logistics, I know that fitness is pretty much the only thing that enables this experience.
I agree conditioning helps prevent injury. In my fifties, I still bike pretty hard, mostly off road. Couple big falls in recent years. One in 2017 really tore-up my shoulder. Three months off work. Timely surgery restored function, but my physio emphasized why UCI DH pros (and rugby players) are all so stocky: high-tech armor protects joints, but so do conditioned surrounding muscles. Lots & lots of push-ups, lateral raises etc. for me since. Last month I came off again… Now wearing a thumb tendon splint for two months, but at least my arms & shoulders survived the hit 🙂
move it or lose it. your body is a reflection of what you do on a daily basis. you don’t slow down because you get old, you get old because you slow down. Be safe out there!