Destinations & Things To Do

3 Chest Exercises to Help Improve Your Posture

Published

2 days ago

August 5, 2025

aunderwood

(Photo: Chest press: Igor Suka/Getty; Design: Ayana Underwood/Canva)

Published August 5, 2025 03:00AM

You may have rolled your eyes as a teen when an adult told you to “stand up straight” or “stop hunching your shoulders,” but they had a good point: poor posture can lead to misalignment, muscle and joint pain, decreased range of motion, and limited movement function.

Everyday activities like driving, typing, and hunching over your phone can lead to a shortening and tightening of the muscles in the front of your upper body, like your pectorals, which become overused.

The good news? You can limit some of that damage and strengthen the muscles that keep you upright.

Building your chest muscles, the pectoralis major and minor, not only helps you perform everyday activities like pushing open a heavy door or lifting heavy packages from your front doorstep, but it also improves your shoulder stability and helps you maintain good posture when standing or sitting.

Perform the tri-set below as a circuit (doing one set of each exercise back-to-back with about 90 seconds rest in between) or by doing all three to four sets of each exercise before moving on to the next. Challenge yourself with a heavy weight: when you reach the end of your set, you should feel like you could do just one or two more with good form before reaching failure.

You can also make any of these movements more challenging by slowing down the tempo of the lowering phase or adding a pause at the bottom (for the shoulder taps, you can add a three to five-second pause while one hand is touching the opposite shoulder).

1. Dumbbell Squeeze Press

How to Do It:

Grab a heavy set of dumbbells and sit on the end of a bench holding the ends of the dumbbells vertically in your hip crease.
Keeping your feet flat on the floor, lie back and bring the weights to rest horizontally on your chest.
Squeeze the weights together and press them straight up.
Pause at the top, then slowly lower the weights back to your chest.
Keep squeezing the dumbbells together throughout the entire movement.

2. Plank with Shoulder Taps

How to Do It:

Begin in a high plank position with your arms straight and your wrists stacked directly below your shoulders. You can spread your feet about shoulder-width apart for better stability.
Your body should make a straight line from your head to your heels. (Keep your head and neck neutral and avoid dropping your head down or craning your neck up.)
Engage your core, squeeze your glutes, and lift your left hand off the floor. Bend your elbow and reach your hand across your torso to tap your right shoulder.
Return your left hand to its starting position and do the same movement with your right hand.
Continue alternating for the entire set.

3. Chest Fly

How to Do It:

Grab a heavy set of dumbbells and sit on the end of a bench holding the ends of the dumbbells vertically in your hip crease.
Keeping your feet flat on the floor, lie back and keep the weights close to your chest.
Press the weights straight up over your chest and keep them close together to get into your starting position.
Slowly lower the dumbbells out to your sides, keeping a bend in your elbows.
Once the dumbbells reach chest height, pause, then return to your starting position with your arms straight and the dumbbells above your chest.

Want more Outside health stories? Sign up for the Bodywork newsletter.

Source link

Related Topics:Evergreen Exercises Moves Strength and Power Training

Up Next

REI Co-op XeroCloud 3L Rain Jacket Review

Don't Miss

Day 90: Anothet Time Capsule: From the Trail to the Nation’s Capital

aunderwood

Click to comment

You must be logged in to post a comment Login

Destinations & Things To Do

Is Whole-Body Cryotherapy the New Ice Bath? I Tried It to Find Out.

Published

3 hours ago

August 6, 2025

awise

(Photo: Anna Matviienko/Getty, Abigail Wise)

Published August 6, 2025 02:26PM

I went to CryoEffect, a self-described “Cold Spa” in the Chicago suburbs, in the middle of the weekday, when I was told it would be pretty empty. The only customer was a guy in the back who had just gotten out of a full-body cryotherapy treatment—basically, three minutes naked in a -200 degrees Fahrenheit freezer—and was reclining in compression boots that went all the way up his legs. He was coming to CryoEffect daily as part of a fitness project, because, as an airplane salesman, he’d made a bet with a client that he could lose 30 pounds in 30 days. If he won, his client would pay him $50,000.

“What if you lose the bet?” I said.

“He’s not going to lose the bet,” said Miriam, the Cold Spa’s owner. She had a great smile and curly hair, and her wrists were adorned with crystal bracelets, which she made herself and sold at a table by the door. Each crystal helped with different things, like creativity and self-love. But most customers just bought them based on which colors they liked best.

The guy beamed. He was confident about the bet. “In two and a half weeks, I’ve already lost 27 pounds.”

“You should donate the money to the owner of CryoEffect,” said Miriam.

Did he feel, I asked, like time in the freezer was helping his goal?

“For sure,” he said. “You come out, and it’s almost like you’re crafted. Like, you’re shaped.” He sort of pawed the air, like he was patting a Greek statue. “Everything is tighter. It’s amazing! And my sinuses are better, too.”

Well, who doesn’t want to be crafted like a statue? That sounded pretty good to me, especially since I’d come to try out full-body cryotherapy myself. My reasons were simpler: I’m a long-distance dogsledder, a lover of deep cold, and I’ve spent a lot of time winter camping in 30 or 40 below zero—so I was curious about how the Cryo experience would compare. Temperatures in the walk-in freezer got down to—apparently—-260 degrees Fahrenheit, but some users described the sensation as that of standing next to a fridge with an open door. These things are not the same. How cold would it really feel? And would it scratch that cold-weather itch, even in summer? I felt uniquely qualified to evaluate.

Plus, the freezer therapy came with a bunch of supposed benefits—some of them even backed by science, like improved mood and less muscle soreness after workouts. And dozens of cryotherapy services have popped up in the Chicago area alone. Proponents argue that the cold decreases inflammation—picture an ice pack on an injury, but for your whole body—and causes your blood to redirect to your core, so that when it comes back to your extremities, it’s carrying extra nutrients and oxygen.

Do whole-body cryo fans care about the FDA’s statements that “there is very little evidence about its safety or effectiveness”? Not particularly. Search #cryotherapy on any socials, and you’ll find countless posts about pain relief, athletic performance, and improved energy. I gotta say, I believe it: regardless of direct physical effects, the intensity of three minutes in a deep freezer would make for a hell of a placebo.

The author posing in the cryo chamber (Photo: Blair Braverman)

Another man walked into the spa—clearly a regular, because he wasted no time slipping behind a curtain and changing into the spa-issued bathrobe, socks, and slippers before stepping into the cryo chamber, which looked like a cross between an upright fridge and a coffin. Lights flashed; white steam poured over the top. He spent the entirety of his three-minute treatment chatting with Miriam about his daughter’s upcoming wedding, even when a deafening fire alarm went off, which Miriam shouted was a false alarm from the office next door. I covered my ears; he ignored it. He seemed to be a superhero of ignoring sensory input. When his time was up, he stepped out of the tank like it was nothing.

Now it was my turn.

The inside of the freezer-coffin was lined with some sort of black quilted poly that was coated in frost. I opened the door and stepped onto a carpeted platform, which rose up until my head poked out an opening at the top. I wore a bathrobe over my underwear, but now that I was fully enclosed, I took off the robe and handed it to Miriam; no one could see my body, but I felt very exposed. The air already felt frigid. How much colder would it get? I started to get nervous.

A screen at the top of the tank read -97 degrees Fahrenheit, with 2 minutes and 54 seconds left. Within two seconds, temps dropped another 20 degrees. It felt like someone was pressing solid ice cubes to every inch of my skin. I had the urge to crouch down and make a ball, wrapping my arms around my legs to preserve heat, but I was afraid to bend at all and brush the frosty lining of the tank.

With a strong hissing sound, mist started to pour out around me, rising up to my neck. The temp dropped to -165.7 degrees Fahrenheit, which did not feel at all like standing in the open door to a refrigerator. It felt like I was standing in an oddly windless tundra—naked. I suppose, if I hadn’t seen the thermometer, I would have estimated the temperature to be around -40 degrees Fahrenheit, which is still very chilly to be naked. I guess that’s what they call a dry cold.

“Your skin receptors are talking to your brain,” Miriam said calmly, outside the coffin, as if those words meant anything at all. “Your blood is rushing to your core to protect your vital organs. When you step out of your three minutes of torture, your blood will rush back where it belongs and fight inflammation along the way.” She started listing the conditions this would help: brain fog, stress, depression, anxiety, acne, rosacea, scarring… (Conversely, the FDA warns of asphyxiation, frostbite, eye injury, and burns.)

It was hard to focus on what she was saying, which was surely the point; she was well-practiced in distracting people from the pain of cold. Still, the sensation of cold won over. It felt like thick needles were stabbing slowly into my shins and arms.

“You’ll be amazed how well you sleep tonight,” said Miriam cheerfully.

The inside of the chamber (Photo: Blair Braverman)

With 53 seconds to go, I started laughing from the pain. Miriam recommended that I put my arms up above the tank. “That leaves the girls exposed,” she warned a few seconds too late. My forearms were covered with the biggest goosebumps I’d ever seen.

With ten seconds to go, she traded me the mittens for my room-temperature bathrobe, which felt unbelievably toasty, like it had been warming for hours in the hot sun.

Normally it takes me a long time to warm up after being in deep cold—a half-day inside, at least, for the bone-chill to go away. I can mush in the morning, sit by a fire all afternoon, and still want a hot bath to warm up fully for bed. But within seconds of stepping out of the freezer-coffin, I felt fine again, except that my legs were as numb to touch as if they’d been novocained. It was kind of fun to poke them. My clothes, when I put them on, felt balmy. I wanted to skip around. I stepped back onto the street and everything seemed brighter. Almost sparkling. I had survived!

Apart from a brief euphoria, I noticed no other effects of the treatment, though to be fair, most advocates of cryotherapy recommend a series of sessions in order to get the benefits. But it certainly gave me a feeling of accomplishment far beyond what I’d normally get from three relatively passive minutes of my day. Would I do it again? Sure—but I’m more likely to DIY it by stepping outside in pajamas on a winter morning before I drink a cup of coffee, or running out of a sauna and into a snowbank for fun. If I’m a believer in cryotherapy, it’s because I am, above all, a believer in the power of cold—to invigorate, to calm, and to cast the world in beauty that wouldn’t be quite as visible at other times. Sometimes winter really can cure what ails you—and if a freezer-coffin can help me glimpse that on a summer day, consider me sold.

Blair Braverman is a columnist and contributing editor for Outside, a long-distance dogsledder, and author, most recently, of Small Game and Dogs on the Trail.

She’s completed some of the toughest dogsled races in the world, including the Iditarod, the Kobuk 440, and the Canadian Challenge, and co-runs the dog team BraverMountain Mushing with her husband, Quince Mountain, in northern Wisconsin. They share the team’s many adventures on Patreon.

Blair’s a contributor to The New York Times, Vogue, Esquire, This American Life, and elsewhere. She recently hosted the BBC Radio 4 show Animal and is survival correspondent for the podcast You’re Wrong About. She’s spoken about resilience in the wilderness for companies including Microsoft and Google.

Her favorite pieces she’s written for Outside are about competing on the Discovery show Naked and Afraid, being a woman alone in the woods, learning to write, and mischievous sled dog Blowhole.

Source link

Destinations & Things To Do

37 Kids Bringing Lake of the Clouds to Life 0.00

Published

4 hours ago

August 6, 2025

Sean Berenson

PPPPPP. Military people will immediately recognise this most fun of all the acronyms. For those unfamiliar, prior planning prevents piss poor performance.

Last night we had an updated weather forecast suggesting thunderstorms may roll through camp in the morning. With this knowledge, I packed everything in my pack before falling asleep, safe in the knowledge that I could break camp quickly and head over to the hut to avoid a soaking wet tent.

Sure enough, at 415am the thunder and lightning arrived. Fortunately Chestnut heard it as I was dead to the world, and I heard him start to pack in his tent that was next to mine on the platform. Because of PPPPPP, I was able to instantly stuff my quilt into my pack, then stuff my air mattress, put on my shoes and get out of the tent, break down the tent and stuff the tent at the top of the pack. Time taken: five minutes and thirty seconds from waking to walking toward the hut. I even impressed myself a little.

Safely ensconced inside, the storm rolled through and poured down. The next section of trail is above tree line, so we now had a nervous wait to hear the updated forecasts from Mt Washington that is delivered to all huts and campsites in the Whites at 7am. The first of two free nights gifted by a hiker that left the trail a few days ago depends on being able to not get zapped by a huge clap of electricity while heading for Lake of the Clouds.

Weather

At 7am the storm had passed so we wandered back over to the campsite to hear the forecast. Fortunately it was great news, with the front passing through in the morning, and a pleasant afternoon incoming. With this good news, we decided to celebrate by making Sofia surprise pancakes. We snuck up to the caretaker cooking area and prepared the food. Sofia was suitably surprised by our efforts and we spent the morning hanging about the hut after the pancakes waiting for the weather to clear.

The hut croo then fed us some leftover cake. As keen readers will note, I now have about six days of food in my pack and I continue to consume almost none of it. This is not a problem I have ever run into hiking anywhere else in the world. It is causing me equal parts concern and hilarity.

Hiking

After almost 48 hours of excellent rest at the hut and campsite, it was time to get hiking once more. The climb out of the camp was a reasonably easy affair, and the views slowly opened up once we gained the ridgeline.

Reasonably clear weather was the order of the day post lunch, and after a few short hours the Lake of the Clouds came into view. I headed into the hut and claimed the first of two free nights of hut accommodation that had been gifted to me by a kind hiker that left the trail a few days earlier.

Lake of the Clouds

This hut is by far the most utilised and popular in the Whites. It was like entering a madhouse. The noise of the people was overwhelming, a full house of humanity after spending a month not seeing more than a handful of people in one place.

I chilled out in my bunk through the remainder of the afternoon, writing some blogs and reading a book. At 6pm the croo announced dinner and they definitely did not need to call me twice.

The four course dinner was extraordinary. I chatted with my table mates, and was the only thru hiker among a number of overnight hikers. This led to many questions about my level of insanity and why I would want to spend months at a time in the wilderness.

The great part of being the only thru at my table was the desire of everyone to see that I was well fed. Huge advantage of looking like a zombie. I ate so much food I thought I would explode.

Chestnut had managed to get WFS at the hut. Lake of the Clouds is the one hut to take four people for WFS each night and tonight there were only two. I am genuinely curious as to why more thru hikers are not taking advantage of the free dinner and sleeping quarters, especially at this location three quarters of the way up Mt Washington. I can only assume it’s a combination of lack of knowledge of the program and the (general) desire of most thrus that I’ve met to hike all day and not looking to time a hut stay.

All too soon the meal was over. I toddled off to bed with a very satisfied tummy. I wonder if I’ll eat any of the food in my pack tomorrow.

Affiliate Disclosure

This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any product or service you purchase using the links in the articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price as they would otherwise, and your purchase helps to support The Trek’s ongoing goal to serve you quality backpacking advice and information. Thanks for your support!

To learn more, please visit the About This Site page.

Source link

Destinations & Things To Do

The Nipple, Fireworks, and Endless Lakes: PCT Days 94 to 98

Published

6 hours ago

August 6, 2025

Emilio Gizzi

The morning’s hiking was fairly unremarkable. I got started a bit late, traversed the minor ups and downs, and met a hiker called Big Rig at a water source. I like easy days like this, it means I can turn off my mind and just walk.

One of many insects I often find on my gear in the mornings.

The afternoon was more interesting however. Immediately after lunch I began a fairly long climb up the side of a mountain called The Nipple.

It’s appropriately named.

Most of the trail up here was above the treeline and the wind was crazy strong. It was rocky and open and the path was a little rough but the views were very good. I didn’t take the side trail up to the peak as it looked straight up and my ankle was feeling pretty tired. Walking this area meant I was constantly bracing myself against the wind but it also meant that, when I passed behind a rock outcropping on the descent, the sudden absence of that wind caused me to stagger to the side.

Wish I was down at this lake, although maybe not while this wind was blowing.

I got below the trees, out of the gale, and found a small campground to crash in. There was another hiker already here and to my surprise, they were a SOBO (southbound) PCT section hiker! I’d not met any SOBOs before and we chatted a bit over dinner, giving each other details of the upcoming terrain.

Day 95: Look at the Fireworks

Like the previous day, the morning was uneventful. I went over Carson pass easily and reached the trailhead shortly after, passing many day hikers on the way in. The information station there had a trail magic setup with snacks and sodas and I was all to happy to take advantage of it. I saw Presto again here and met a hiker called Celery.

Its nice to see snow, glad I’m not walking through it though

The way onward was easy mountain hiking. It reminded me a little of the Tuolumne area of the Sierra as there were very many day hikers and weekend backpackers hiking around me. I’ve been a little careful up until now not to align my blog posts with any specific dates but it’s important to share here that today was the 4th of July so people were out and I knew there would be fireworks tonight. I could’ve made South Lake Tahoe today but I wanted to avoid the madhouse of a tourist town on a holiday so I’d planned to find a campsite with a view of the lake and watch the spectacle from a distance.

This stretch is shared with the Tahoe Rim Trail and their blazes are everywhere.

I found the perfect site, about 4 miles from the road, and found Presto and a hiker called Sketchy were already there. The show started at 9:30, past when I’m usually fully asleep, so I ate an early dinner and dozed for a few hours to try to keep myself well-rested for tomorrow. Come 9:15 I climbed a very large boulder set into the hill side next to my tent and enjoyed the show from there. The explosions were visible but far enough away to almost completely inaudible.

Day 96: The Bliss of New Shoes

Only being a few miles from town meant I was under no pressure to get up early and I made sure I slept in. The few miles into town were all downhill too. The last mile or so was through a section of burned forest, the first I’d seen on trail. The trees were grey and still and it was just a little eerie. Thankfully the mile went fast and I soon found myself with thumb out at the road. A cop pulled someone over right in the pullout section I was hitching from so I put my thumb down, thinking nobody was going to stop while that was going on. Entirely unprompted however a car pulled over and asked if I needed a ride into town! The driver named Tom and his wife Claudia were here for the holiday and were very excited to meet a PCT hiker. They dropped me off just across the street from the hostel where I would be staying. I dropped my pack off and picked up the new shoes I’d shipped here. I don’t think I can properly communicate the bliss of walking in new, supportive, grippy shoes after going miles in worn out footwear.

Great decor in the hostel bathroom too.

The rest of the day was town chores and relaxing. I purchased a new CNOC dirty bag to repace my broken one, wandered around town a little (chock full of tourists), and picked up some cheap backpacker meals from Sierra Trading Post. When I got back to the hostel I showered and did laundry then took advantage of their computer lab to write up a few blog posts. I headed to a well-rated burger place for dinner and discovered that just by walking down the street I had crossed into Nevada. I’d been paying relatively little attention to the map beyond the trail so it was a surprise when I crossed at an intersection and suddenly went from clothing stores to casinos. The burger was good though.

Day 97: Into Desolation Wilderness

Town meals are particularly exciting after long stretches on trail and the mountain of pork, eggs, and salsa over tortilla chips I ate at a local diner was divine. I packed up, showered, then kept blogging for the last hour before I had to check out. South Lake Tahoe has a Grocery Outlet thankfully so I headed there first for my resupply, then stopped by a more conventional (but more expensive) grocery store for the few items I couldn’t find. I ended up staying at this store, a Raley’s, for a little longer, using their Wi-Fi to get a few more posts finished and scheduled to go public. For anyone curious, I do most of my writing on the notes app on my phone and that can be done anywhere, but images and various configuration chores need to be done with an internet connection.

The author realizing this road sucks for hitching (but getting a ride 5 minutes later anyway).

A local named Sydney gave me a hitch back to the trail and I was back among the trees. The burned trees unfortunately, large stretches of trail were blackened and dead.

I walked past Berkeley Echo Lake Camp, a summer camp I once CITed at in my teens, then past Echo Lake itself. A lot of people were here as well but as I hiked further they thinned out. I’d spent too much time in town though and it was getting dark as I climbed up from the lakes into Desolation Wilderness where I would be able to camp.

Day 98: Lakes I Want To Revisit

The late night meant I was up later than I’d liked and I think I need to start being more conscious of how I hike out of town. If I get back to trail too late, I don’t get to my campsite until too late as well and that throws off my hiking and sleeping schedule until I get to the next town.

The morning walk was past an absolutely gorgeous lake, Lake Aloha. The water was the blue I’ve only previously seen in tropical ocean and all the islands looked to inviting. I wish I’d known how great this lake was, I would have packed additional food and maybe spent a day here. Ah well, it’s just somewhere I’ll have to come back to I suppose.

Not even the High Sierra lakes were this color.

The rest of the day was more lakes, though none quite as stunning as the first. I crossed over Dicks Pass in the afternoon without too much trouble. There was only a little snow at the top, a far cry from the snow fields of the high Sierra. There were more lakes on the other side of course.

I reached the tent site I’d planned for around 6:30 but it was quite full so I had to hike another hour to find an open spot. The mosquito swarm descended as the shadows grew long and I walked fast, slapping at my arms constantly to dislodge the bloodsuckers continually landing there. I love most insects but mosquitos are the true exception and I loathe them so.