That’s more than 100,000 pounds of cumulative load—processed by my body, step by step.

Back in December, I started rucking with just 10 pounds. That means back then, over the same distance, my body was processing about 38,000 pounds of cumulative load.

That’s not just a difference in numbers. That’s a difference in biology.

Sometimes I rucked every day. Sometimes I had to wait three days. Sometimes even a week.

When I was recovering from the aftermath of quitting a toxic job, my system was so depleted I needed to nap every afternoon just to function.

So I did. I focused on protein. On sleep. On the right supplements. I gave my body the materials it needed to rebuild.

I stayed at 23 pounds for about a month and a half. Let my nervous system calibrate. Let the adaptation settle.

And then, yesterday, the signal was clear: 26 was next.

There was no question. My body said, “Today.” And it was right. It felt steady. Slower, yes. But solid. Because the adaptation had already happened. I just needed to wait for the green light.

And this doesn’t just apply to rucking.

This rhythm—of effort, then strategic recovery—applies to every area of health.

Whether you're rebuilding hormones, digestion, sleep, mood, or resilience, the body needs the input, yes.

But then it needs you to back off. To give it space. So it can do its job of healing, recalibrating, and adapting.

That’s what adaptation actually is.

But you can’t.

You don’t make adaptation happen. Your body does.

Your job is to know how to recover. To know what inputs you need.

To know when to do nothing at all—when to take a break, pause, and let the body do what it knows how to do.

And then to listen for the moment when your system says yes—to the next step, the next level, the next layer of capacity your body is ready to carry.

That’s not soft. That’s science.

And no health guru can give you the perfect protocol.

It’s personal.

It lives in your cells. In your timing. In your sleep, your gut, your protein intake, your capacity to pause.

Strength doesn’t come from stacking weight.

It comes from knowing when to wait, when to rest, and when the signal says go.

The nervous system doesn’t thrive when you push, grind, or override it—that’s hustle.

It thrives when you’re clear: clear about inputs, clear about boundaries, clear about timing, clear about signals.

Clarity creates safety and coherence, which makes adaptation and healing possible.

It always remembers load.Even when your brain forgets.

Your conscious mind might move on—might downplay the effort, dismiss the progress, or forget what you’ve carried.

But your body doesn’t.

Your fascia, your tissues, your mitochondria, your nervous system—they all register it.

Load isn’t just weight. It’s information. And your system stores it, encodes it, and adapts to it.

So when you feel steadier, stronger, or more resilient without knowing why—this is why.

Your body never forgot the work you did.

P.S. I filmed a reel right after this ruck. No makeup. Filter on. Sun in my eyes. You can watch it below.