‘My lungs are screaming. I can not go on’: Why on earth is everybody doing HYROX? ALEX BYWATER joins the hordes of ripped torsos on the ‘painfully addictive’ health craze taking on the world – and rapidly needs he hadn’t

It’s mid-afternoon and I’m flat on the floor of London’s ExCeL Centre, mid-burpee broad jump. If you’re not sure what one of those is, we’ll come to that. But at this point it’s almost irrelevant, as my body is telling me I simply cannot do another one.

As I lie on my stomach, my lungs are screaming. My legs feel heavy. I desperately try to suck in some oxygen to muster the required energy to continue, all while wondering just why – on the back of a busy month covering rugby’s autumn internationals – I have decided to again take on the fitness craze that is taking over the world. 

But there is no going back now. I’m roughly halfway through my second HYROX event and the only option is to move forward. I can’t quit.

So, drawing in more air, I somehow rise to my feet and jump forward, all while cursing my overindulgence at the superb pre-match press lunches laid on at Twickenham in recent weeks. I really shouldn’t have had that apple crumble.

Across four days in the capital, I was one of 40,000 HYROX participants. Globally, 1.3million people have taken on the challenge in 85 cities across 30 countries this year.

HYROX – somewhat eye-rollingly, a portmanteau of ‘hybrid’ and ‘rockstar’ – has exploded in popularity since it was created in Hamburg in 2017 by Christian Toetzke and Moritz Furste and is now a global phenomenon. But what exactly is it? Who is it for? And how did it get so big, so quickly?

A HYROX competition is made up of eight separate one-kilometre runs interspersed with eight different gruelling workouts. The events are standardised and can be completed either as an individual, in pairs, or as part of a relay team.

There is no time limit, though generally it takes somewhere up to two hours to complete on your own. Stupidly, I have chosen to take on the challenge solo. There is no one to help me share the workload, but I am far from alone in that as I arrive to the sight of rippling torsos (not mine) and the sound of pounding dance music.

The London venue is alive with chatter and varying opinions. ‘It’s painfully addictive this,’ I hear one athlete say. A lady in her mid-40s, there to support her partner, adds: ‘I’m not doing it. I’m not mad!’

As I queue for the toilets before my 1.10pm start, I start to question my own sanity. Should I really be doing this? The reality is I’d have liked to have done far more training than I have. But I also know what is to come, although you could argue that is a negative.

In May, I took part in my first HYROX in Cardiff predominantly because as someone now in their mid-30s, I want to ensure I stay as fit and active as I can while leading a busy work and family life. I also wanted to see what all the hype was about.

As I queue for the toilet pre-race, the two men behind me start chatting. ‘What time are you aiming for?’ The response comes back quickly: ‘Just to finish.’ Amen, brother.

It is easy to mock HYROX as a concept, especially given the name. But many of its participants seem to be totally and utterly devoted to taking part. There’s a world championships, seasons and ‘professionals’, all competing to set the fastest time (the individual world record was set in October by Austria’s Alexander Roncevic, at 53 minutes and 15 seconds). 

For a reason I can’t quite determine, the vast majority of the male entrants race without a shirt. We get it lads, you’re ripped.

‘There must be easier ways of raising money than joining a cult,’ wrote one of my friends, when donating to my JustGiving page raising money for the Motor Neurone Disease Association. HYROX does give off cultish vibes, the perception being it is for elite athletes only.

But my experience in London not only revealed that to be misleading, but was also wholly positive. Yes, the majority of those at the ExCeL were in prime physical condition and yes, it is expensive, with entries costing more than £100 each.

But the race is open to anyone and everyone and is well organised. It feels like you are a part of something big, regardless of how fast you are. Before my start time, I witnessed a 70-year-old man take to the course to huge cheers as well as several wheelchair athletes taking part. The former Chelsea and England defender Gary Cahill, television presenter Ben Shephard and YouTuber KSI were among the celebrities to take part.

Soon enough, it’s my moment of truth. As I’m called into the tunnel to begin, there are nerves. The DJ’s choice of Daniel Bedingfield’s Gotta Get Thru This seems appropriate. The smoke guns go off and we’re away.

My aim is to run five-minute kilometres and I start well. I’m far from fast, but I’m consistent and things are going well until the burpee broad jumps – the workout which involves dropping to your stomach, jumping up in a pencil-dive pose in the air and then leaping forward two-footed. There is an 80-metre distance to cover this way.

At 6ft 5in, this is by far the hardest of the eight disciplines for me. It is at this point that I first start to have doubts as to whether I can complete the distance but inspired by those around me, I carry on.

I’m regularly overtaken by faster athletes, though remind myself I’m in a race only with myself. Unlike the majority of participants, I am not competitive enough to chase a particular time. Completion is the only goal. It is something I manage, even if on the final lap of running I feel my hamstring twinge with cramp.

It is a worrying feeling and leads to a slower-than-hoped finish, with a brief stop at one of the course’s designated rehydration stations nothing short of a necessity. As I cross the finish line, there is a sense of huge satisfaction and also delight that the pain is over. 

Would I recommend HYROX to others? Yes, absolutely. Some might rather poke fun at it than take part and that’s fine. But at a time when 64 per cent of the UK’s adult population is considered overweight or obese and sedentary lifestyles are leading to widespread increases in cardiac diseases and dementia, anything that involves getting people active has to be considered a good thing.

HYROX describes itself as a ‘global fitness race’ and has been recognised as a sporting discipline by the World Triathlon Federation. Its long-term ambition is to become part of the Olympics.

The only negative for the London event was that the record number of participants at what was the biggest HYROX to date led to some people having to queue before stations. The frustration at doing so was soon vented on Instagram.

It was not something I experienced, predominantly because my finishing time of 1 hour and 54 minutes was bang average at best (despite it being six minutes quicker than what I managed in Cardiff).

There is absolutely no chance of me ever rivalling the best of the best and hitting HYROX World Championships or potentially Olympic level. But that is not what matters. Taking part and staying fit and active is what counts and if I can do it, so can you. It seems I’ve been bitten by the HYROX bug and I’m certainly not the only one. So, which city and race is next?

To donate to Alex Bywater’s HYROX JustGiving page to support The Motor Neurone Disease Association, visit https://www.justgiving.com/page/alex-bywater