»My friends say it's a bit cult-like«

The red room

One by one, Barry’s regulars trickle in this morning at 7 am. The typical routine involves grabbing a small towel, a so called sweat towel, from a dark wood shelf. Then they stroll past the ’Fuel Bar’, where they can pre-order a protein shake, and then to the front desk to find their starting position.

They’ve arrived early, they gather in small groups, hugs are exchanged.

»I’m F4, what are you?«, says one woman in a sports bra to another.

»Oh no, we’re super far apart, I’m T19«.

For the first-timers, it’s an incomprehensible code. But being an F4 refers to where you can position yourself in The Red Room. That’s the group training room, which accommodates 44 people.

Worldwide, Barry’s is known for its dimmed red lighting. And in an email before our visit, the Danish studio manager explained that they flew in sound technicians from the USA to adjust the bass so it hits the body in just the right way.

Foto: Nicolai West

In the middle of it all stands Christopher Trunk-Black. In his white Asics Gel Kayano, his dark blue dry-fit tank top from Lululemon, and his shorts from Saysky. He’s a regular at Barry’s. And he’s »the type who yells and screams in there«.

Five times a week, he screams in The Red Room.

By day, he advises Danish and Nordic tech startups. Even though his last name often makes people think he’s from the USA, he’s just from Aarhus and now lives in Østerbro. 47 years old, no children, and single.

He always works out at seven AM on weekdays, where there’s a core group of ten. If he’s not at the session, the instructors might worry about him. Once he missed a workout due to a dentist appointment. During the morning, he received concerned messages from the others.

»It’s a community«, he says, ready to give the instructor his ticket: a high-five at the entrance to The Red Room.

Like a free church

Someone who has a take on what’s happening is Rasmus Ugilt. He’s knowledgeable about bodies and desire and is a philosopher at the creative bureau Must, with a Ph.D. in philosophy.

Ugilt can’t help but turn his head when he cycles past the people cooling-down on Christian IX’s Gade. And several of his colleagues come to Barry’s for a morning workout now and then.

Ugilt compares the Barry community to the free church Hillsong, which he visited in New York. The moment you walk in, a small group of young people are ready to greet you. »Welcome to church«, they say with big smiles. They look like it wasn’t a mistake to approach them.

»What Hillsong and Barry’s have in common is that overflowing positive energy«, he says.

He calls the exuberant vibe »Barry’s intense smile«. You’re really there for each other when you high-five both to the left and right and with the trainers. And it’s contagious. Suddenly you find yourself taking off your T-shirt and clapping or cheering along.

At the same time, there’s exclusivity: Can you go in there? Who’s actually in? And maybe more interesting: Who shouldn’t be there?

Not everyone is the target audience for Barry’s marketing, Ugilt points out. When you look at the site on Christian IX’s Gade from the outside, it’s doubtful whether you’re actually invited.

The place certainly doesn’t go out of its way to extend the invitation broadly. Maybe with ads to specific segments on Instagram, but Ugilt is definitely not part of that segment.

»Everyone should be welcome. But not everyone is invited«, he summarizes.

Before Christopher Trunk-Black started coming to The Red Room, he did some casual workouts twice a week. Then came the COVID lockdowns. He was on his way out of his first tech startup and was »a bit of a mental mess«. On Instagram, he came across an ad for Barry’s, and even though he didn’t have proper workout clothes, he booked a session.

He walked through the glass doors. And came back after another round.

Christopher Trunk-Black isn’t the type who waits for someone to say hi first. After his third session, he went up to the Fuel Bar to get a protein shake, where some of the others were hanging out.

»Hi, I’m Christopher. Great session... I’m completely destroyed. Are you guys new here?«, he remembers saying.

And that’s how it started.

Today, most of his social circle is friends from Barry’s. He’s also tried some of the other boutique fitness centers that have opened in Copenhagen in recent years. It’s actually a bit hard for him to admit. Because it has felt like infidelity every time.

’Entertrainer’ at work

Traditionally, you always finish the session with a final sprint at Barry’s. The treadmill is cranked up to max. This is when Christopher Trunk-Black makes eye contact with his red reflection and takes a deep breath.

Right there, he only focuses on himself. He has to run 26 kilometers per hour for 30 seconds, which he has trained for. He didn’t think there was more to give. But there was.

Especially when he lets out his familiar whistle, which spreads to a »yay!« in the dark. For him, the 50 minutes in The Red Room is a break from the world.

»People pay to leave their brains outside the door before they walk in«, he explains.

»We’ve jokingly said sometimes that Barry’s is better than talking to your psychologist. Even though you don’t talk to people about your inner problems«.

Sometimes the trainers ask them to lie down in the dark and breathe. It can almost become emotional for him to lie on the mat. Okay, fuck, this is wild, he thinks.

At Barry’s, the trainer isn’t just a fitness instructor. They must be DJ, trainer, and entertainer at the same time. They have to be an »entertrainer«, he says. And they are known for their legendary pep talks:

»LOOK YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR, YOU GOTTA ASK YOURSELF WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE«.

»YOU PAID FOR THIS, YOU ASKED FOR THIS, SO LET’S GO!«, Christopher Trunk-Black recounts some of the calls.

To all those who are critical of Barry’s, his response is: Come down and try it. A seven o’clock session with Thomas or Sophie.

»And I promise you, they’ll change their mind«.

Is it a bit like a free church?

»Well, I don’t know about a free church. Some of my friends also say it’s a bit cultish, but that’s too negative. I’d rather call it a community«.

Those who come here are driven by the community, it’s international, and it’s the vibe in The Red Room. Plus nice shower facilities, white towels.

»Of course, we have many high achievers, entrepreneurs, lawyers, and CEOs. But it’s alongside completely normal people«.

Wave or highfive?

»Fitness has always been seen as somewhat controversial when compared to football or badminton in the association, which are often associated with positive values«, says Maja Pilgaard, a senior analyst at theInstitute for Sports Studies (IDAN).

It’s especially the individualistic aspect of fitness culture, she explains. It’s seen as an inward self-indulgence in front of the mirror. The gaze is directed inward, towards the body.

»There’s no evidence in the data to suggest that the inward gaze creates an unhealthy relationship with the body, but it’s at least the prejudice many encounter«.

Rasmus Ugilt doesn’t see this new wave of exclusive fitness centers as actual self-fixation or individualization. For those who hold these prejudices forget that you’re never alone in the red room.

»When you run on the treadmill, you don’t just take off your shirt for yourself. You do it because someone’s looking. And because you hope they’ll see you with a gaze you long for«, he explains.

He sees the expensive fitness wave as a longing for the right community. A community where you can hope to affirm the individuality you desire.

»It can be through an exchange of glances, a high-five, a fuck yeah on the treadmill«, he elaborates.

Today’s session in The Red Room is over. And while refueling at the Fuel Bar, people stand on the street to chat and cool down. The sun shines on the sweaty bodies, and more intense smiles fill the street once again.

Many of them are holding a green shake in their hands. It’s called Green Latifah, costs 58 kroner, and is made of spinach, mango, almond butter, vanilla protein powder, and almond milk. The drink contains 280 calories, 17 g of carbohydrates, and 30 g of protein. You can read that on the menu, where you can also order a Basically Air or Dirty Chaitown.

Now changed, Christopher Trunk-Black sits in the morning sun. In his blue linen shirt, tight chinos, and bare feet in brown loafers. While being interviewed again on the bench, a Barry regular walks by every ten minutes with a sweet comment – or a »have a great weekend!«.

With a knowing smile, he looks up after the fourth greeting.

»That’s what it’s all about«.

»Many people also use Barry’s for dating«, he jokes. Several people have found each other in The Red Room. Otherwise, people use it as a nightclub. Or as part of their morning routine.

»They look like crap when they come out of The Red Room. And they leave the place in suits on their way to the law firm«, he says.

He himself gets up every morning at six to head out. He doesn’t think he’s cutting anything out, even though he trains at Barry’s five times a week, because he trains in the morning.

»Not friendships, not relationships, not family. It’s just me«.

»So it would be an extra hour of sleep«.

»But an hour of my life, that’s okay«.

In a moment, the last morning group will come out on the street to chat and cool down. And they’ll do it again tomorrow. And the day after.

From the bench, Christopher Trunk-Black raises a hand to say goodbye.

Not for a high-five. Just a wave to me this time.