A FEW WEEKS out from HYROX Melbourne, I found myself hunched over a pot of maize meal, stirring what looked like glue and trying to convince myself it was lunch.
No protein shake. No overnight oats. Just ugali… and I’d already knocked out a 20K run.
I’ve done some questionable endurance challenges before – long triathlon blocks, heavy race weeks, even a 17-hour Ironman, but this felt different. This time the hard part wasn’t the session. It was the food. Or more accurately, the lack of it.
It wasn’t a weight-loss stunt or “mental toughness” experiment. It was my way of trying to understand, in a very imperfect way, what life is like for the people I’m racing for this weekend.
I started my YouTube channel because I wanted to shine a light on effective charities. I loved the idea of using evidence to figure out where your money does the most good.
But talking about giving is…awkward.
No one wants to feel lectured, so I defaulted to what felt comfortable: training, races, gear, numbers.
Then I heard about Race for Impact, a partnership between HYROX and High Impact Athletes, and it clicked.
HYROX is a brilliant, brutal test of fitness. Running mixed with functional stations, the same layout in every city, and an atmosphere that hits you the second you walk in. If you’ve ever stepped onto a HYROX floor, you know the feeling. Music thumping, the crowd packed shoulder-to-shoulder, that mix of chaos and adrenaline that makes you excited and slightly terrified.
After years of 20-plus-hour triathlon weeks, training for something with sled pushes and wall balls has been a welcome change.
Race for Impact lets you take that personal challenge and link it to something bigger. You buy a charity entry, pick a cause area – mental health, women’s empowerment, climate, or in my case global health, and commit to fundraising. The money goes to funds supporting some of the world’s most effective charities, chosen by independent experts rather than intuition.
To kick off my fundraising, I wanted to do more than post a link. So I spent a week eating the typical diet of someone living under the US $2-a-day poverty line in parts of sub-Saharan Africa, the kind of people supported by the fund I’m racing for.
The menu was simple:
- Breakfast: nothing
- Lunch: one cup of maize meal and water
- Dinner: the same, plus a handful of beans
Roughly 1,000 calories a day (In full training I eat closer to 4,000).
On day one, after a 20K fasted run, that bowl of ugali felt like a feast. By mid-afternoon I was painfully hungry. My legs were heavy, my brain foggy.
Day two I hit the HYROX stations and was absolutely gassed. Not sore, just empty. By day three, even an easy run felt like the back half of an Ironman. I kept thinking, “Far out, I am the softest bloke.” Because as hard as it felt, I knew I was only doing this for one week.
For millions of people, there is no “choice”. It’s a daily reality. That humbled me more than the hunger.
During the week I spoke to the founder of one of the charities supported by the fund. They treat children facing malnutrition. He told me it costs roughly US$10–15 to treat a child. That number floored me.
We often see big problems like global health as too overwhelming to solve. But here was a clear link, a relatively small donation can mean a child gets the food, medicine and support they need to survive. The only reason more kids aren’t helped? Funding.
If you’re like me, and your hobby involves spending hundreds of dollars on race entries, nutrition and trainers, that’s a confronting thing to sit with.
HYROX athletes are wired for marginal gains. A tiny tweak can be the difference between a good day and a PB. Giving works the same way. If people are going to support my race, I want their money working as hard as I am.
As I line up for HYROX Melbourne this weekend, I’ll be properly fuelled again — carbs, electrolytes, coffee, the full works. I’m excited, but I’m also nervous. HYROX hurts in a very specific way, the kind that makes you question your life choices halfway through the sled push.
Right now the fundraiser has passed AU$3,093. Seeing people support something they can’t directly see has been incredibly motivating.
If you’ve ever felt unsure whether your donation matters, I get it. I used to feel the same. But learning about effective giving and trying, in a small way, to live the reality of the people we’re trying to help, has changed my perspective completely.
I still love chasing PBs, but this weekend, it won’t just be about the time on the clock. It’ll be about the impact we can make when we decide to race for something bigger than ourselves.
To make your Hyrox experience more meaningful, go to raceforimpact.com/en/
