In the Nevada Desert, a Weekend of Fitness, Frost and Firearms

New York Times

14-05-2025

I have been contributing to The New York Times since 2019, mainly as a film and TV critic, reviewing movies and interviewing actors and filmmakers.
But over the past year, I've developed a new niche: Under the aegis of the Styles section, I've written about professional slap fighting; a fitness racing craze; the 'Super Bowl of Pickleball' and an 'Enhanced' version of the Olympics, in which the competitors are allowed to use steroids. These odd, alternative sports and competitions have become my favorite beat.
I came to this subject through my interest in CrossFit, which has been a hobby and a passion for about seven years. I'm fascinated by CrossFit's unique, constantly varied methodology, and I've written stories about its founder and the annual CrossFit Games (I'm currently writing a book for HarperOne about the history of the company).
One of CrossFit's foundational tenets is to 'regularly learn and play new sports,' and I've taken that advice to heart. I'm always looking for new sports to try and, of course, write about.
A few months ago, the former CrossFit Games champion Jason Khalipa posted on social media about something called the Tactical Games, a fitness competition that seemed to combine elements of CrossFit with firearms. It appeared to be right up my alley: unique, intense and vaguely outlandish, with a political dimension that felt especially heavy after President Trump took office. (One of the sport's most outspoken advocates is Tulsi Gabbard, the director of National Intelligence.)
I emailed Benjamin Hoffman and Stella Bugbee, my editors on the Styles desk, about the Tactical Games in late January. After discussing logistics, we decided that it would be best for me to fly to one of the regional events to watch the action unfold firsthand. A little less than three months later, I flew from Berlin, where I've lived for the past two years, to Reno, Nev., for a weekend of fitness and firearms and nearly 48 hours of air travel.
I had never been to Reno, but I went to Las Vegas last summer on assignment, when it was a sweltering 110 degrees. So I was prepared for balmy weather. What greeted me on my first morning in the high desert basin, however, was a frigid 35-degree torrent of rain and snow. Bridget Bennett, a Reno-based photographer hired to shoot the event, picked me up from my hotel just after six in the morning, and we drove the 20-odd miles to the event grounds in the early dawn light, the bitter wind howling.
At the Nevada Firearms Academy, where the event was taking place, athletes were stretching and warming up, checking their handguns and cleaning their rifles. Most wore camo military fatigues and body armor, and, despite the inclement weather, the atmosphere was upbeat and festive.
The organizers had warned us to bring ear protection, and with good reason: The near-constant sound of gunfire was deafening. At one point, I had no choice but to remove my earplugs to better hear someone I was interviewing. At a nearby event station, a competitor maneuvered through an obstacle course and began blasting a target with a pistol.
Some of the tasks were familiar to me from CrossFit: At one station, athletes had to leap onto a 24-inch wooden box and sprawl onto the ground on the other side, known as a burpee box jump over. Another station involved lifting heavy barbells, using a common Olympic lifting technique called the clean and jerk — a test of both skill and strength. The twist was that, between all of this heaving and jumping, competitors also had to shoot handguns and rifles. It made for a unique spectacle.
I wasn't sure what kind of people a fitness and firearms festival might attract, but I found the competitors friendly and welcoming; more than one person, seeing me underdressed and shivering, offered hand warmers or a spare coat. Some were a bit skeptical of our purpose, though.
'This doesn't seem like the kind of thing The Times would cover,' one competitor told Bridget warily, after she asked permission to photograph him.
Maybe not — but it's the kind of thing I like to cover best. Far-flung adventures, bizarre challenges, activities that test fitness while also defying common sense: That's the stuff that I live for. Flying home on Monday morning, tired and jet-lagged, I felt like I'd taken the next logical step in this strange ongoing journey into my new favorite niche.
On assignments like these, I'm writing about alternative sports, but I like to think that what I'm really covering is America in 2025. Handguns, CrossFit, military gear in the freezing rain — they're part of a picture of a culture unlike any other on Earth. I hope readers see these stories as more than a glimpse of an unusual pastime. I hope they're a window into the way we live.
I'm back in Berlin now, enjoying the warmth of a proper spring. But I'm sure I'll be back to the United States soon. I just need to find the next sport.