Test 02 STRENGTH
The former Saracens and England Sevens rugby player Ollie Marchon – now a PT and the NFG’s performance director – leads me through a warm-up. Its thoroughness matches that of a max fitness test. The intensity also reminds me that this is my first gym session in a year. Working with Loughborough University and Athletic Thinking, a sport and business consultancy, Marchon devised the four tests that will determine my “FitScore”.
So, how does he define fitness? His answer is that it differs from person to person – rugby player to runner. But the principles are a mix of modalities, covering the main movement patterns and inclusive of different intensities, that should “serve a greater purpose” outside the gym. In other words, not just strength, endurance, power or speed, but all of the above. He and members of his Marchon Athletic Team have tried some of the NFG tests to evaluate them. “But no one has actually gone through the whole test before you,” he says.
And certainly not all in one go.
“We probably had about 30 different tests at one point,” says Nick Johnston, founder of Athletic Thinking and managing director at Coventry Rugby. An exercise physiologist by training, Johnston was the performance director at Northampton and head of physical preparation at Sale Sharks when the clubs won the Premiership; he was also the strength and conditioning coach for Wales Rugby Union. He and his fellow sports scientists on his Athletic Thinking team could have made the NFG tests “far more complex”, but they wanted them to be accessible, in terms of space, equipment and simplicity.
“We aren’t going to buy something on a website if we have to do four click-throughs, are we?” he says. “So, one click: done.” I note, though, that I have to do four tests, and Johnston also hasn’t done them himself, though he assures me his teammates have, and he will. I suppose at least I don’t have to do 30.
Test #1: Speed
Set up two markers 10m apart. As fast as you can, carry a 20kg dumbbell (10kg for women) from one to the other – one foot must cross the marker – and back again. Repeat unloaded, then with 30kg (15kg for women), unloaded, with 40kg (20kg for women) and unloaded again to finish. Your result is the total time.
With my weekly five-a-side game called off for months, it’s been a while since I flat-out sprinted and my brain isn’t sufficiently warmed up. I complete my first shuttle, then mistakenly grab the 30kg, forgetting that I’m supposed to sandwich an unloaded shuttle in between. The restart does me a favour as I could’ve gone faster with the 20kg than in my initial, overcautious “dad run”.
I carry the 20kg and 30kg dumbbells one-handed, suitcase-style, which is tough on my midsection but keeps the weights clear of my legs. But I soon realise that the 40kg weight is too heavy for one hand. With the stopwatch running, I don’t have time to think of anything better than an awkward, two-handed waddle. My time is 49.75 seconds. I gulp down air.
Marchon tells me that there’s an element of “skill acquisition” with accelerating, decelerating, changing direction and carrying a 40kg dumbbell – which are not things that we all do in everyday life, or even the gym. If I took the test again, I’d likely do better purely from experience, he says. Under the rules, I’m allowed two more attempts, but I have three more tests to get through. I settle for 48 seconds.
Marrying that acquired skill with some specific training – speed work, accelerating and decelerating over
10m, jumps and other plyos – would improve my time significantly, says Marchon. Increasing my strength and power would also help. Which brings me raggedly to...
“I don’t have time to think of anything better than a two-handed waddle”