There’s nothing ritzy about barbells and cement. Nothing’s too glamorous with chalk and callouses, either. But there’s nothing wrong with a little grit, either.
And that’s what CrossFit Pohaku’s Double Trouble partner competition is: grit, guts and getting after it. Looking for gel packs taped to your bicycle frame for a snack? Forget it. You got one minute to Olympic-style snatch a 125-pound barbell as many times as you can. After that, another minute at 145 pounds, then another at 175 pounds … you see where this is going.
I love my triathlons, I do, but if Ironman is the island’s glamour girl, Double Trouble is the gangster.
Last week, the gym hosted the fifth annual competition at the box in the Old Kona Industrial Area. Competitors came from across the island as they do every year and more and more, the familiar faces from Kawaihae to Hilo make the throwdown feel more like a family get-together each time.
It’s the brainchild of box owner Andy Heubner, crazy, menacing Andy — I say that lovingly, too, as he’s my coach and one of the first guys I met when I moved to the island almost three years ago.
“Ordinary people doing extraordinary things,” he said of his philosophy of getting every average Joe off the couch and headed toward a healthier lifestyle.
“That’s trademarked, by the way,” he joked.
That’s the method he uses to run his box — where coaches even help members understand the biology of diabetes and steps to take to combat it knowing its prevalence in the islands — and the method he uses hosting his annual backyard, parking lot smackdown, Double Trouble. The latter are my words, not his.
“A lot of people are afraid to try something new, get out of their comfort zone,” Andy said of the most common hurdle. “I think that’s the biggest thing — pushing yourself beyond what you thought you were capable of doing.”
The set up is simple. Teams of two run through seven workouts — WODs as the CrossFit lingo goes (box means gym, by the way).
They encompass a wide range of movements, for which the high-intensity cross-training method is known. During an all-day event, everything is tested, from basic box jumping and stationary bicycling — which is more difficult than it sounds anyone who has ever done it on an Airdyne will attest — to complex overhead barbell lifts, like the straight-armed, floor-to-overhead snatch.
With 69 teams this year, workouts had to be quick bursts. Nothing exceeded 10 minutes and most were barely half that long. Don’t be fooled. Five minutes at full-tilt boogie can be soul crushing.
But that’s where the team aspect really comes in. It requires strategy, and partners cover for the other’s weakness.
My partner was a perfect fit to the athlete Pohaku encourages to join. Anna joined the gym only a few months ago but bailed me out by filling in after my teammate injured himself shortly before the event. I did more barbell work, she did all the running, and we crushed it. So much so, we posed like tough guys for our post party pic.
But when you’re both good at something, strategizing can be all the sleeker. One co-ed team had the box jumps down so smoothly they didn’t even need to talk as they rotated in and out. Someone suggested they use the event as a form of couple’s counseling.
So, yeah, 6-foot, 1 million-inch, Andy, has really built something special.
Forgetting the grit and guts component for a moment — the best part is the ohana atmosphere around it all, and that includes the dozens of volunteers — athletes themselves like Kathy and Coach Bob, who put in hours of prep making sure the packed, fast-moving day goes off without a hitch.
And it did.
High atop the same list would be the team names and uniforms — “Sipping on Gym and Juice,” “Huffing Haoles,” “Swol Mates,” were some this year.
But every year, the hidden, cramped parking lot turns into a packed beach scene with a canopy of tents and a sea of coolers and chairs, out of sight of everyone, except everyone there. There’s something fun about getting to know someone with their shirt in tatters and their hands bruised and dirty or watching them sleep on the cement. There’s just a level of connection there.
Listen, I love my triathlons — I do. I’m even training for one right now that will crush me because I’m spending too much time at the box, and not nearly enough on the bike. The bike is boring, that’s why, and Pohaku ohana is anything but.
But yeah, the gritty part of it all is pretty dang cool.
No main street finish line. No photo op swim start. Just get up, get to the bar and go, go, go.
Full-tilt boogie, like a gangster.
