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Thirty years of tinkering with the «Eisenhorn» multi-gym: a man in pursuit of perfection
by Michael Restin
Working out in the comfort of your own home can be nice – provided the fitness machines are pretty enough to leave on display. If there’s anything I’ve come to appreciate this year, it’s home fitness in quality wood.
When something feels nice, you don’t shy away from touching it. When something looks nice, you don’t have to hide it away. And if you don’t hide away something, you’re bound to use it more often. So goes the compelling logic behind aesthetic sports products that don’t flaunt plastic, steel or pompous displays, instead relying on good old wood. It certainly doesn’t look cheap – and it oftentimes isn’t, either. But if they really do become part of your everyday life and change routines for the better, the price tag is justified. In fact, one such product has already worked so well for me that my wish list has mutated into more of a «wood» list.
When I went to Plaffeien in the canton of Fribourg about a year ago to discover a strength training station called Eisenhorn and meet its inventor, I had high expectations. But not necessarily that this Eisenhorn, which is an elegant construction with wooden components, would find its way into my living room shortly.
I liked the concept right away and an initial hands-on test won me over. It feels good, looks good, takes up little space, and is very versatile. Still, I wouldn’t have splurged on it myself. My wife, on the other hand ... And so, I’ve been training on this machine almost every day since. If I wanted to, I could even invest in a specially designed oak cabinet to disguise it. But I don’t feel any need to do so; I like looking at it – and, even better, I like using it just as much. So far, I haven’t fallen into a motivational dark hole. I’m nowhere near having had my fill.
After an Eisenhorn workout, I sometimes grab my fascia roller from Trigger Point from behind the sofa. It’s relaxing – as long as I can banish it to the back of the sofa afterwards. Blackroll & Co. products are functional, but they’re a bit of an eyesore. Rollholz, on the other hand, has some models I could imagine as a permanent companion to the Eisenhorn. Handmade products made from Black Forest wood are quite the eye-catchers. While I haven’t had the opportunity to test any of them yet, they’ve been on my radar for a while now.
The Giboard from Gibbon is a similar story; ever since trying the mini slackline at the ISPO OutDoor sports fair, I’ve been toying with the idea of adding the slack-skate board to my living room.
The board’s a challenging mini-playground that’ll challenge the entire family’s coordination, and it’s pretty enough to earn a place in an everyday spot. Even the pricing is decent. The same can’t be said for the next product.
Here’s the thing: everything in my life speaks against raiding my bank account to get the treadmill with an integrated workstation from Walkolution. I have neither the room for it, nor am I able to hit the right keys on my keyboard while walking or jogging. That’s why my personal Athlete of the Year is my colleague Anne from our Translations Team. Not only does she do a good job; she does so while covering up to 25 kilometres per working day on her WalkingPad.
Once she’s reached her daily goal, the stows the pad out of sight. It’s a functional solution that works perfectly for her. Now, if I were her and happened to win the lotto, you’d find me shouting, «Viva la Walkolution!» while having an upgraded treadmill delivered to my new villa. Who is this mystical, solvent target group who may be particularly interested in the products made by the high-end manufacturer from southern Germany? Perhaps the silver-haired gentleman and gold-blond lady from the product images can answer that question.
The Walkolution isn’t necessarily about beating your best marathon time, but rather about health and well-being. This, on a super-silent device adorned in beech wood. It doesn’t require electricity and features an inviting running surface made of springy birch wood slats. It’s a pretty little thing. I’ll revisit it in twenty years.
I have a kind of love-hate relationship with rowing machines. On the one hand, I like strapping in; the machine offers a wonderful combination of strength and endurance training. On the other hand, sometimes I get a pinch in my back that makes it difficult to stay motivated. Sentences beginning with, «I used to have one of those, until ... » are no stranger to me in reference to rowing machines. You start off training, move on to procrastinating, and then you sell it.
I’ve tried several models over the years, but only ever at the gym, at trade shows or for reviewing purposes. But in the long run, neither a Concept2 nor the Incredible Hulk of rowing machines, the Assault Rower Elite, would ever be invited into my living room. If anything, the Auglethics Eight, clad in wood, would be the more likely candidate. Or a wooden rower with water-powered resistance – nothing beats the relaxed rowing on those.
Whether your focus is on strength, endurance, coordination or relaxation, you can find solutions that are not only functional, but also fitting for your home. Even the notorious wall bars from my school days have long been available from BenchK in elegant and multifunctional versions – for example, with an attachable pull-up bar, gymnastic rings or a small table. How convenient. But perhaps it’s better suited to my kids’ room.
Cover image: WalkolutionSimple writer and dad of two who likes to be on the move, wading through everyday family life. Juggling several balls, I'll occasionally drop one. It could be a ball, or a remark. Or both.