Your Comfort Zone will kill you
…But Hyrox Almost Got There First
It's been a week since I did Hyrox, and after talking to people about it, I've been reflecting on the whole experience. So many people have told me how amazing it is, how much of a challenge it was, how proud they are of me, and—my personal favourite—how much they would HATE to do something like that themselves. And honestly? I forgot how big a deal it is to people who don’t work out regularly or even know what the hell Hyrox is.
Because I’ve been too busy absolutely roasting myself for being slow.
I got so wrapped up in comparing myself to all the sub-1hr-30 machines I know that I forgot I actually doing the damn thing is a pretty big deal in itself. I pushed myself way out of my comfort zone—and not just because Hyrox itself is a beast of an event.
The Solo Mission
A lot of people were shocked that I went up alone. I travelled alone, stayed in a place on my own, and didn’t see anyone from my gym because (a) they were competing on different days, and (b) I’ve felt so self-conscious and awkward that I don’t really know anyone well enough to tag along anyway. Plus, I didn’t really tell many people I was definitely going ahead because… well, the embarrassment of being slow is real. The idea of saying, “Hey, I’m doing Hyrox!” and then being met with, “Oh cool, what was your time?” was enough to make me want to crawl into the nearest bin and stay there.
And look, I did have a small cry before the race because I felt so alone. No one was there to cheer me on, hold my bag, or give me a sweaty hug at the finish line. But I read through all my donation messages and texts from friends and family, and honestly? That loneliness and "what-the-f*ck-have-I-done" feeling disappeared pretty quickly.
Everything About This Was a F*ck No
If you had given me a checklist of all the things I find deeply uncomfortable, Hyrox weekend ticked every box:
Train travel. Ever since those terrifying railway safety videos in primary school (thanks for the trauma, British Transport Board), I have hated being around trains. Falling on power lines? Getting shoelaces stuck? Being decapitated by a telegraph pole if you lean out the window? NO THANK YOU.
Underground travel. See above. Glasgow’s subway system? Slightly less terrifying, but still very much a “breathe through it and pretend I’m chill” situation.
Staying alone. Yes, I was looking forward to a comfy bed and some quiet time, but staying in someone else’s flat (a shared Airbnb, no less) was unnerving. Also, if I don’t have my own ensuite, bathroom anxiety hits HARD. If I can’t clock a toilet and know when I can next go? Instant panic.
Crowds, loud music, competitive environments, and being in a massive enclosed space. This is normally a HELL NO. Yet Hyrox is literally ALL of those things rolled into one, plus burpees.
Then throw in the event itself:
Getting a penalty almost immediately and still carrying on.
Feeling my blisters within the first 30 seconds but pushing through.
Keeping a smile on my face (at least some of the time) and digging deep so I could make the people who had sponsored me proud.
Dealing with ALL the pressure, stress, and newness, and not absolutely crumbling into a sweaty heap.
So What’s the Point of All This?
Well, mostly to remind myself that I can do hard things. Solo travel, solo events, being in unfamiliar environments, and dealing with all those overwhelming situations are stressful enough individually—let alone when lumped together in one big weekend. And yet, somehow, I got through it.
Would I do it again? Probably. But maybe with a cheer squad next time (and a pre-planned bathroom strategy).
So if you're reading this thinking, "I could never do that"—maybe you could. Or maybe not. Either way, I hope this serves as a reminder to give yourself credit for whatever hard sh*t you do, even if it’s not Hyrox-level chaos. And if nothing else, at least I can now say I survived childhood train trauma AND an international fitness race all in one weekend.
F*ck yeah.
🙌🏻
