Heart Attack to Hyrox in 10 Months

hyrox, n.:  An endurance race that took over my Instagram explore page in 2025, it combines both running & functional workout stations, where participants run 1km, followed by 1 functional workout station, repeated eight times [source: hyrox.com].

"What are you going to do if you can't complete the race?"

My therapist asked me this the Monday before my Hyrox race. The forecast for race day called for temperatures around 79 degrees, and because the event would take place outdoors at Pier 76 in New York City, she admitted she was asking out of concern—and maybe a little fear that I was about to push myself beyond my body's limits.

I knew that she needed reassurance. She wanted me to consider the possibility that I would need to tap out early, either because of the heat or the overwhelming fatigue and exertion of doing a full, all-out version of the race. To accept that, after everything that had happened, failure was a possibility.

Although I provided some of the reassurance she was seeking, the real answer was that not finishing had not crossed my mind, even though I would be competing in the race less than a year after I had a heart attack and briefly died.

When I first left the hospital after being discharged a day early, I couldn't even walk a block without feeling faint and needing to call an Uber to get back to the hotel. My cardiologists encouraged me to take things really easy. They warned that my heart's ejection fraction was much lower than normal and that it could have negative implications for my longevity. Their recommendations were (for some reason, specifically) no cheese, no drinking, workout gently, and take life easy to make sure I lived as long as possible.

When I got back to work after my short-term disability leave, there was that same encouragement of gentleness from management who cared about me. All around, there was fear that I was at risk of overextending myself again in the way I had before.

I like things that are difficult, and then I like to conquer them.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

But I didn't need or want things to be easier. I wanted to choose differently where I focused my energy I was going to compete at Hyrox.

I signed up because it sounded fun and because one of my friends casually mentioned that she needed a doubles partner for the NYC race. It might be more moving to say that I wanted to do Hyrox because I didn't want my most recent dramatic physical feat to be dying at the office. But I was raised on Mulan and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Plus, I've always liked to have a physical event to train toward.

I like things that are difficult, and then I like to conquer them.

Fitness has always been a big part of my life. When I was young, I did Tae Kwon Do and Korean Swords (Koryo Gumdo), reaching second- and first-degree black belt levels, respectively. When I lived in the Seattle area, I got very into SoulCycle classes, even buying the branded at-home bike during the 2020 shutdown to keep up my workouts. After moving to New York City, in addition to joining Equinox, I ran three half marathons, two of which I completed in under two hours. Throughout all of it, I liked having structure, external accountability, and knowing there was a race or specific goal on the calendar to work towards.

After moving out of the city and building out a home gym, I started working with a personal trainer through the Future app. My personal trainer used to work professionally with cardiac rehabilitation patients, so when I told her I wanted to do this race and she was enthusiastic—immediately jumping into planning how we would make it happen—I felt reassured. Others had reacted with a bit of shock and concern, but here was an expert fully supporting my goals.

Once training began, I quickly learned that the main adjustment someone doing both cardio and strength training needs to make for Hyrox is training endurance and resource management. The first simulated class I did, I got far too excited on the first station (the Ski Erg), gave it my all, and then spent the remaining 55 minutes of the class running on fumes. The key is to give just enough to everything so that you can work consistently.

As race day approached, I had a bit of travel in April and May. The travel in May made me especially anxious. I was going to the UK, including the Isle of Islay in Scotland, where there wouldn't be a proper gym. I was worried that my progress would be lost. I was also worried that the peaty Scotch consumed on Islay would set me back.

Turns out, though, one can do a lot of walking between Ardbeg, Lagavulin, and Laphroaig. And the Scots? More reasonable dram pours than here in the States.

By the time I got to Edinburgh, I was craving a workout so much that I went on a long run through the city before spending as much time as I wanted in the gym, training wall balls and leg strength. Over the course of my training, which picked up in intensity in February, it was satisfying to see how much my strength and cardio endurance improved. Working out became a lot more fun.

In London, I found a Hyrox class that I could pair with the many simulations I was doing near home and with my doubles partner. When I traveled to California right after for work, after a day spent outside in the sun for our annual developer conference, I had no desire to do my programmed workout. I was fatigued, depleted of electrolytes from the heat, and battling astronomical jet lag. But instead of skipping the workout entirely, I cut out the cardio and kept the strength training. That adjustment—learning when to push and when to adapt—ended up being one of the biggest lessons of training.

One of the most unexpected changes with prepping for Hyrox has been discovering a completely new mental space. For most of my life, physical challenges have come with a running internal commentary. During half marathons, I would think about how hard the run felt or if I was going to be able to crest that upcoming hill in Central Park. During bootcamp classes like Barry's, I would internally bargain for breaks and calculate how much longer I had to endure. My mind was always occupied in a, frankly, unhelpful way. The place I go to in Hyrox changed that. I don't know how I landed at that flow state, besides the fact that it is a peaceful acceptance that I'm going to complete the station, the reps, the run, because there is no alternative. Once I accept that, there is no reason or productivity to be suffering mentally.

The race itself was so much fun and a testament to how solid my training had been. Pushing a 225 pound sled felt like nothing. Same for the 172 lb sled pull. I had feared the Burpees and wallballs, and those were both far easier than anticipated. When I threw the final wallball and made eye contact with my doubles partner to let her know we were done, it felt surreal. Even more surreal was that I still had gas left in the tank. Crossing the finish line felt phenomenal. Unsurprisingly, with a baseline time now of 1:35:01, I immediately wanted to do it again and improve upon that score. In the merch store, one of the employees even joked that I had a look in my eye that I was ready to run it back.

For the next one, I want to dial in the fueling piece and get stronger on the stations that challenged me—especially the farmer's carry, which I entered with delusions of grandeur because my dog weighs about the same as the women's open kettlebell weight. More than anything, I want to see what's possible with another three months of training. The finish line answered one question: Can I do this? Now I'm interested in different ones: How much better can I become? Can I do this solo?

For a long time after my heart attack, so many conversations centered on what I should stop doing. What risks I should avoid. What limits I should respect. Those conversations came from people who cared about me, and they weren't wrong. But surviving isn't just about staying alive for as long as possible. It's also about continuing to participate wholeheartedly, imperfectly, messily in your own life. That's what Hyrox, or anything difficult, gives me. Not proof that I'm perfect or unflawed. Not proof that bad things can't happen again or I won't make mistakes in the future. Just proof that life is a lot bigger than the worst thing that ever happened to me.

If there's something you're considering that feels a little scary—a race, a trip, a career change, a creative project, a conversation you've been avoiding—I hope you do it. Do it because the things that scare us are often the things that show us who we've become. Less than a year ago, I couldn't walk a block without feeling faint. This year, I finished my first Hyrox race, and I'm already looking forward to the next one...on September 4th in Washington, D.C. 😉

Well, my philosophy... Do you wanna hear my philosophy? Life is short. Not original, I'll grant you, but it's true. You know, why waste time being all shy and worrying about some guy and if he's gonna laugh at you? Seize the moment...'cause tomorrow you might be dead. - Buffy Summers, Season 1