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On December 15th, soldiers from the Canadian Grenadier Guards listened, participated and moved through a series of lessons and movement screens geared for the tactical athlete. As mentioned in a earlier post, the Tactical Athlete, is a concept that helps set the tone for a soldier's physical development plan.

With the demands of the every day soldier constantly increasing, the nature of the job of an infantryman is constantly evolving. However, with all the advancements in tech, it comes at an ever increasing cost to the weight borne by the individual soldier. With that being said, there is only so much an individual can carry before tactical effectiveness starts to suffer. This is outlined very well in the article by, Think Defence, that states that,

 

"When carrying heavy equipment it has been shown that overlooking visual clues to threats increases and decreases reaction times."

Additionally;

"Recent studies (Silk 2010) demonstrated an average decrease in soldier mobility performance of 1,5% for every 1kg carried. Another study (Basaan 2005) looked at the time to complete an obstacle course and found that for every 1kg increase in external load (between 15 and 42kg) the time to complete increased by just under 8 seconds."

 

The recommendations are pretty straight forward, with the average weight of a patrolman during the Afghan War at 123 lbs, three courses of action are available:

  1. Make shit lighter

  2. Carry less shit

  3. Make the shit you're carrying, easier to carry (ie PT your guts out)

I can only affect point number three, so I'm going to stay in my lane on this one. Until the Army comes up with its new exoskeleton suit for the Reserves that will likely be made by the lowest bidder and function only for 10 mins on any given Sunday, don't neglect your body.

The point of our PT day was to scratch the surface on how to prepare and maintain your body for the rigours of infantry life but also, life in general. The analogy I use is like having a really nice race car that you only take out one weekend a month. During that month though, you forget to top up the oil, you don't rebalance your tires and you keep forgetting to tune up the suspension. All of a sudden it's weekend race day and you start racing at top speed. All goes well for a few months, maybe years but the lack of care eventually leads to blowing a tire, breaking a tie rod or your engine seizing up.

Same goes for your body.

A typical reservist is in school for 20 hrs a week plus another 20 or 30 studying. Most, if not all is done seated and most find very little time to train and worse, most are malnourished and dehydrated. All of a sudden it's time for a weekend patrolling exercise or worse, leadership training, and the increased demands on the body can lead to injury and long-term issues that contribute to a lower quality of life.

Now, imagine that someone comes along and explains how your level of fitness is not only imperative for your job performance but how you're going to live your life for the foreseeable future? Not only that, but this person has also lived it and knows the demands placed on our soldiers? You got it, that's where I step in.

From my experience, most infantry soldiers have concrete ankles, really immobile thoracic spines and dangerously stiff hip complexes. This can all lead to a train wreck of issues down the line, in my case it was herniation of my back. This is why during the seminar we worked on "prehab" and specific measures to improve mobility. The techniques are very basic but can make a massive difference for injury prevention when done consistently.

My three favourites are:

1. Anterior tibialis self myofascial release (SMR) with a lacrosse ball or foam roller as shown below:


 

2. Soleus SMR with your thumbs from your ankle all the way up your tibia (shin) to your knee:


 

3. Tensor Fascia Latae (TFL) & Sartorius SMR with a foam roller or lacrosse ball:


 

These helped me alleviate a huge shin splint problem I had after many ruck marches and long runs, additionally, it keeps your tissue mobile in the load bearing part of your body; kind of important for us infantry types. SMR is really similar to going to see a massage therapist (a real one, not the ones on St. Catherine's St.). It starts to realign the fascia, the interconenctive tissue that holds our musculature together. It can start to tighten up, massage brings increased blood flow and a realignment that is usually constantly needed. If you make a "pain face" while doing it, that means it's working. Keep at 'er every day until it no longer hurts.

In the infamous words of Sgt Barnes in Platoon;

 

"Take The PAIN!"

 

It was a real hoot heading back to my regiment for the first time since I've been out. I really enjoyed the experience and I hope the seminar proved to be worthwhile for all who participated. The images and content related to soldier related injury prevention, can be found in my new eBook, The Nimble Warrior, set for release on January 30th, 2019.

Pre sale for, The Nimble Warrior starts today and you can reserve your copy before it's even released right here at at a 25% discount.

All photos in slideshow courtesy of Cpl Raquel Bitton



Every step, precipitous. Every sound, unnerving. The growls and hollers of dogs alert the residents to our presence.

We are owning the night.

Psychologically imposing our will that we are not afraid of the last bastion of insurgent activity. Fear lives in the darkness, save for the sickening green world I perceive through the lens of my night vision.

It feels like we're invading something sacred, moving towards the unknown.

A door rattles. My weapon is trained on the door along with three others from my patrol. All of us flashing high powered lights and switching off safeties. Assholes puckering.

Tsenga ye! It's our local pain in the ass looking for more work. He has no Idea how close he was to having new, decorative 5.56mm holes to adorn his body.

We carry on patrolling, the street lights I had helped install in the village are all gone except for two. I guess we won't be doing many more development projects in this part of town for now. I carry on...

The crackle from the local mosque's speakers moan with the most haunting incantations as we patrol through the night. The hair on my neck stands on end and it's as if I have a heightened sense of awareness - animal like. I chew my gum harder and faster.

The moon is full and silhouettes the entire patrol as we hop over walls and disappear into the labyrinth of grape fields. When every step might be your last, you'd think that the stress would be overwhelming, paralyzing but oddly enough it isn't.

The HESCO walls are within sight. Not time to start thinking about that growling pit of hunger I have in my stomach, stay alert, stay frosty, stay vigilant. Mission complete.

We owned the night tonight.


I wake up some mornings and I can’t walk properly. Worse, some days I can’t go to work since my back is so jammed up nor can I play with my son either. I’m limited to how long I can stand and how long I can sit, it is a lingering reminder of the Afghan war and it’s the biggest gift I could have ever been given.

I recently spoke to an auditorium full of high school students during Remembrance Day about sacrifice and why we remember those who fell in battle. I wanted to convey that we’re not glorifying war or beating the drum of patriotism but we’re honouring the sacrifices that so many made so that we enjoy the modern comforts of peace and stability at home.

Every one of us who has deployed to any of the dusty battlefields of Iraq or Afghanistan are well aware of sacrifice. We all made one, one way or another, and some paid the ultimate one. My sacrifice was the health of my back. And no, it’s not what you might think, I wasn’t rushing to save a truck full of children under heavy enemy sniper fire, I simply was picking up my gear on patrol and BANG! I thought we were under contact. Turns out, it was just two of my intervertebral discs deciding to explode out of their vertebral homes.

From that point on, I soldiered on. I took drugs for the pain and just ‘gave ‘er’. “It’ll probably be better in a few weeks”, I told myself. I got home and things seemed alright, but I was slowly degenerating to the point where I couldn’t get into my car without wincing. I missed professional development courses, I stayed home some nights instead of grabbing pints with the boys and ultimately started living with nagging, life-altering pain.

I took drugs for the pain and just "gave 'er"

How could this possibly be a gift? As I was talking to the students in the auditorium, I stated that my injury is a gift since it totally changed my perception on fitness and health. First, I asked myself, “why did this happen?”. It turns out that I had some very pronounced physical weaknesses and mobility issues. This lead me to undertake my personal training certification and learn more about anatomy and functional strength. Second, two months after my son was born, I had a terrible, incapacitating lock up of my back. The physical pain was excruciating but worse was the pain of knowing that I couldn’t help my wife or take care of our son. This was the moment I knew things had to change.

From that point forward, I took my injury very seriously and hired an incredible coach at my local Crossfit box. We worked together for over a year, I competed in the Crossfit open and haven’t had a serious incident since. However, the greatest part about hiring my coach was that he eventually became my mother’s coach who was beginning to physically deteriorate. She went from being a diabetic with limited mobility to literally running after her grandson and drastically reducing her use of medications.

Now understanding the power of a good coach, I mused if I could be just as influential in other’s lives. I’m a teacher by trade and was a high school science teacher at a great school but something started to nag at my soul. I poured myself into podcasts and books; I learned more about myself from Joe Rogan’s podcasts in 3 months than I did in all of University. The lesson that stuck was this:

Don’t waste time doing sh*t that you’re not passionate about.

This message resonated in my brain, daily. Teaching was what I loved to do but the classroom wasn’t my passion. This manifested itself as a health scare when my doctor discovered I had dangerously high blood pressure. I’m 36, in the best shape of my life, I eat well and sleep well and I have heart attack level blood pressure? The universe was sending me a message that was loud and clear - I needed a change or die!

I finally made the hardest professional decision of my life and left my comfortable, permanent job to work in the education technology field. It didn’t last long, but it hardened my resolve to finally do what I always wanted - launch my own fitness business. I’ve been able to bring some of the new tech skills I learned to bear on my new coaching business and the fact that I know I can overcome a debilitating injury only strengthens my tenacity that I will be successful.

Every day I reflect about my mission in Afghanistan. My physical pain is a constant reminder that I’m still alive. This is a cherished gift of mine because I got to come home when others didn’t.

I got to come home when others didn't

My talk with the students closed by outlining this one final point; sacrifice and struggle, they have allowed me to appreciate my life to the fullest, I hope to convey that through my coaching and help change as many lives as possible.

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