In a moment of what I can only describe as utter madness, I’ve signed up for Hyrox Barcelona, which takes place at the end of April. For those who don’t know, Hyrox is a gruelling fitness competition combining functional strength and endurance exercises, with a lot of running thrown in. Yep, running – a thing I’m currently terrible at and, let’s be honest, largely avoiding. And with only four months to go, I’m already questioning my life choices.
I only started going to the gym regularly in April 2024. Up until then, the idea of exercising willingly wasn’t something I really entertained. But small group personal training sessions with a focus on functional strength training changed everything. Somewhere along the way, I stopped dreading it and actually started to enjoy it- love it, even (most of the time). The routine, the sense of accomplishment, feeling strong. Who knew?
But Hyrox isn’t just a gym session. It’s a beast. And I’m doing the mixed doubles category with Madge, my partner in this insanity. He is fitter and stronger than me, which is both comforting and terrifying. Comforting because I know he’ll pick up some of the slack, and terrifying because I don’t want to let him down. The running, in particular, is my Achilles’ heel. We’re talking 8 kilometers (yes, 8 kilometers) of running, interspersed with all kinds of functional torture. And right now? My running game is non-existent.
I’ve written myself a plan, with the best of intentions. There’s cardio, strength, running, and regular sessions with a physio to help manage my piriformis syndrome (tight hips and an achy glute that refuses to cooperate). The cardio class I’ve added is a small step in the right direction, but the weather is currently scuppering my running plans, so I’m going to need to get day passes to a local gym with a treadmill.
So, have I taken on too much? Honestly, yes. I am quietly panicking about how much work lies ahead and whether I can rise to the challenge. But then I remind myself why I signed up in the first place. To push myself. To see what I’m capable of. To prove that it’s never too late to tackle something new and scary.
Four months is not a lot of time. But it’s enough to make meaningful progress. Enough to show up and give it my all, even if that means running slower or modifying along the way. I have to remember it’s not about perfection – it’s about showing up and trying. The goal is just to finish.
Barcelona, here we come. Ready or not.
Have you ever signed up for something that felt way out of your league? How did you tackle it? Let me know – I could use all the advice I can get!


















Originating in…of course… Manhattan, sometime in the mid-late 1800’s, the original Manhattan was a mix of “American Whiskey, Italian Vermouth, and Angostura bitters”, and I guess my house classic doesn’t veer too far away from these original roots.