Passing once tells you almost nothing
A fitness test is a single sample. Anyone sufficiently motivated can produce one good performance from a foot that cannot afford to produce two, which is why people with altered mechanics regularly pass the test and struggle with the job. The number that predicts your service is not the score. It is what Thursday looks like after Tuesday.
Does your performance repeat?
Five questions about what happens after the effort instead of during it. Answer for a normal month, not for the day you felt best.
The day after a hard run
Think about your last genuinely hard running session. Not the run itself, the following morning, getting out of bed and walking to the kitchen.
Back-to-back days
Two demanding sessions on consecutive days. A run, then a long loaded walk, or two runs.
Which side tires first
Late in a long effort, one leg usually starts working harder or feeling heavier than the other.
Where the pain sits, if there is any
Muscle soreness spreads across a broad area and eases with movement. Joint and tendon pain is localized and often worse when you start moving again.
Whether it changes your gait
After a hard effort, does anybody notice you walking differently. Or do you catch yourself favoring a side?
This measures repeatability and not capability. Answer for what actually happens instead of for your best week, because your best week is not the thing under test.
Why the test and the job diverge
Physical fitness assessments measure a maximum: how fast, how many, how far, on one occasion, with the date known in advance. That design is deliberate and it works reasonably well for most people, because for most people maximum capacity and sustainable capacity sit close together.
An altered foot pushes those two apart. The compensations that let you produce one strong performance (borrowing motion from the knee, loading the stronger side harder, pushing through a foot that is already at its limit) all work, and all carry a cost that is invoiced afterwards. Test day hides that. A duty roster does not.
Anyone can be fit on Tuesday. The question is whether Tuesday costs you Wednesday.

What actually trains well, and what does not
Some things respond to work and some things do not, and knowing which is which saves a lot of wasted effort.
Trains well: hip and glute strength, which genuinely reduces demand on the foot; general aerobic capacity; tolerance for load, built gradually; and calf strength, up to a point.
Trains poorly: range of motion in a fused or heavily scarred joint, which is structural, not tight; calf size where the muscle is congenitally smaller; and the shape of your foot.
The practical consequence is that effort is best spent above the foot and not on it. A strong hip changes how much the foot has to do on every step of a march, which is worth more over twenty miles than any amount of ankle mobility work on a joint that was never going to move.
Warning signs worth more than a score
Four patterns predict trouble far better than any test result. Pain that arrives during an effort instead of after it. Pain that changes how you move, since altered gait redistributes load to structures that did not sign up for it. Soreness still present on the third day, which indicates the tissue is not clearing the load. And a widening gap between your sides as fatigue sets in.
Any of those showing up in training is information, not weakness. Acting on it early is what keeps a manageable pattern from becoming a medical board four years later.
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