Given that Oslo, Norway’s capital, had surprised me with its small size, green suburbs and quiet atmosphere, I hadn’t expected much from a CrossFit box 500km to its north in a random town called, Trondheim, especially given that the only reason I was there was to visit an amazing friend.
I better straighten out my misconceptions quickly. For starters, Trondheim is beautiful. It has bars, restaurants and quirky streets hugging the long arm of one of Norway’s 1,190 fjords. Secondly, this is no sleepy hollow; but a city bursting with students and many tourists. And thirdly, the CrossFit box up that way is totally legit.
When the owner of a gym looks around himself with pride, and says that he’s standing there as a result of a hobby that got out of control, you can be sure of a few things – he’s going to be a passionate coach, the gym will have a good vibe, and he’ll do all he can for his athletes.
Jan, the energetic but “mature” owner of CrossFit Twente, still holds down his normal day job and started out as a rowing coach. When he discovered and began to dabble in CrossFit, his strength and fitness gains spoke for themselves. He noticed that this new sport helped to reduce injuries and improve weaknesses, and so decided to use the training method as part of his rowers’ training programme. Read the rest of this entry
The reality of trying to combine travel and CrossFit was starting to hit home. Getting to the gym frequently was a piece of paleo-approved cake when I was swanning around Madrid for a week and cruising Alicante for over a month. But hitting the road with a friend in tow proved to be a whole different kettle of deep-fried fish. Spontaneous travel, stays of only one night in cities and the desire to actually see the places I was visiting required some reprioritisation on my part. Was mine a CrossFit journey? No. Mine was a personal journey, which combined both CrossFit and travel. I had to push CrossFit sessions aside (shocking, I know) and went six days without seeing the inside of a box. And then I started to go crazy. It was time to find me a box.
There wasn’t much hope of Entreno Cruzado being a decent CrossFit box. Not only was it in Spain – where people tend to choose beer, tapas and sunbathing over exercise – it’s also on the paradisical island of Mallorca. Mallorca might be Ibiza’s beautiful and more subdued neighbour, but the nightlife is still a huge attraction; sun-roasted, permanently-drunk 18-year-old English boys dominate the streets during summer; and locals tend to have an “island mentality”. The Entreno Cruzado box was small, had started out as an unaffiliated gym and, on top of all this, day-time temperatures were reaching 30 degrees, plus humidity. My expectations were low.
On the short bus ride to the box from Palma, Mallorca’s capital, I consoled myself that any work out would be better than none, and at least I’d be forced away from tapas for a while.
Forget about the deep-fried food, I was soon eating humble pie. Read the rest of this entry