Photo: Danial Deen Isa-Kalebic @danialik
Words: "Roger" Berg
I've earned my athletic stripes the old-fashioned way.
Spent my thirties thundering up and down football pitches every weekend, convinced I was the next George Best. My forties brought morning jogs that evolved into proper runs. The kind where you're actually racing the clock. Gym sessions became near-daily religion: squats, deadlifts, bench press, the whole iron temple routine. Strength training wasn't "content", it was simply what serious men did.
So when fresh-faced twenty-somethings started evangelizing about something called "Hyrox," I responded with measured skepticism. I've outlasted spinning classes, bootcamps, and CrossFit cults. But I'm pragmatic enough to investigate before dismissing.
Turns out, the kids might actually be onto something.