YOUR MONTHLY COLUMN WITH THE ROPE RUNNER
THE PEOPLE BEHIND THE H-BOMB
I went back to HYROX Cape Town this past weekend. Yes, again!
COLUMN
( According to my body, apparently, once wasn ' t enough)
By Marissa Groenewald
This time though, something different caught my attention. It wasn ' t my own race, my own time, or whether my quads were going to forgive me afterwards, but rather, the people around me.
From the moment I walked into registration, I was met with smiles, warmth and people genuinely excited to be there. The organisers, volunteers, hosts and crew were everywhere, encouraging competitors, answering questions and somehow keeping the H-machine moving.
... and then you ' d walk into the arena. WOW! Like watching Gladiator … Less blood, same gore.
People were everywhere. Running around warming up, stretching, refuelling, shopping, checking their watches, psyching themselves up and probably wondering, just like I was the first time around – What on earth have I signed up for?
The atmosphere was electric.
What really humbled me was not necessarily what I saw happening inside the arena, but what was happening inside hearts and heads. Grit. Determination. Victory.
You could see the first-timers, though... nervously taking on their first HYROX, alongside people who looked like they had practically become part of the furniture. Young. Old. Super fit. Not-so-fit. People pushing personal bests. People who got injured. People who simply wanted to finish. There were husbands, wives, partners, friends, families and babies watching from the sidelines- everyone had their own reason for being there.
And yet, for those few hours, we were all fighting the same monster... the one between our ears. The place where the hardest battles take place. With bodies begging for mercy, I saw hearts and minds screaming louder: Just keep going. You ' ve got this!
Man! I was inspired.
And then, there I was. The Rope Runner, representing in my own little way. I didn ' t actually rope run HYROX, but I did what I always do. I carried my rope and ran with it around my neck. My legs did all the work. Tattoos at the back of each leg- with the words cutting through conversations:
FIGHTING HUMAN TRAFFICKING.
Nothing more needed to be said. No microphone or stage required. The message was visible. It was walking around the arena. That is the beauty of sport. Sport gives us platforms we never expected. It creates conversations between complete strangers. It makes people curious. It gives us opportunities to carry something bigger than ourselves into places we may never otherwise reach.
Human trafficking remains one of the most under-talked-about topics. It ' s dark. It ' s uncomfortable. It ' s easier to look away. But millions of people don ' t get the privilege of simply looking away. They are trapped in situations they didn ' t choose and can ' t simply walk away from.
So, if I can carry a rope into an arena filled with thousands of people and make even a few stop and ask: " What ' s that about?", JOB DONE! Apart from that, may I remind all the readers here about something I was reminded of this weekend( while watching everyone around me battle their own personal HYROX).
REMEMBER: Some battles are visible, but many aren ' t.
We are all fighting something. Some people are fighting for a faster time. Some trying to believe in themselves again. Some are fighting a loss. Some brokenness. Some loneliness. Whatever it is, KEEP UP THE GOOD FIGHT... AND BE KIND.
Thank you, HYROX Cape Town, for reminding me of that, and thank you to every volunteer, organiser, competitor, supporter, parent, partner and friend who showed up and made the a rena alive.
All of us didn ' t just do HYROX. We inspired someone. You inspired me!
— The Rope Runner Protecting lives, one skip at a time.
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