In a football tournament that has so far given England fans five perfect penalties and a path to the semi-finals, the Euros has also given us some hot fitness intel about the future king of England. You may have seen Prince William cheering from the stands on Saturday evening during the match against Switzerland, but my attention was immediately drawn to his wrists. On one was a flashy silver watch, on the other was the fitness tracker all exercise junkies own: a Whoop.
To the untrained eye this might have just looked like a black canvas band wrapped around his wrist. But fit and athletically gifted people, such as me, instantly recognise it as the It fitness accessory worn by Michael Phelps, Tiger Woods, Rory McIlroy and the like.
A Whoop is a faceless fitness watch that, using a sensor on the underside of the strap, tracks biometric data such as your resting heart rate, skin temperature, heart rate variability, sleep performance and respiratory rate, all presented in a set of nifty graphs on the phone app. You can view your “strain”, a score out of 21 that represents how hard you’ve exerted yourself that day. For exercise addicts, the higher the number, the better.
• Wills on wheels: Prince William rides e-scooter to Windsor Castle
Whoop also gives you a recovery score. This is how well-rested your body is and is calculated by the quality of your sleep, how hard you worked the day before and other nerdy stats that happen while you’re in bed — oh, you never take it off, by the way.
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As for drinking, that’s a silent no-no. Whoop’s sensors can tell if you’ve had a few pints the night before, which can send your recovery score plummeting.
Every morning when you wake up, a notification shows your fitness in numbers: a recovery of less than 33 per cent and you’re in the red and told to take it easy today. If you’re above 67 per cent you’re in the green and it’s all systems go. Whoop memberships, including the band, cost £229 a year.
But I do worry for Willy and his Whoop. I wore one religiously for years, until those numbers became all too much and I had to tap out. I had become a slave.
Look, I get it. When you start using Whoop, you get high on the silent respect that comes from fellow wearers when they get a flash of your wrist. William, I too have been on the receiving end of those glances. I know how nice it feels for people to recognise that you take fitness more seriously than most. And yes, it’s a niche conversation starter when you spot a fellow user. “What’s your strain today?” is an ice-breaker nobody else will understand. You feel as if you’ve joined the Freemasons for fitness lovers.
But there are also flaws Whoop users will know all too well. First, I maintain that it is impossible to get a strain score of 21. Not to brag (but really I am), when I ran an 84km ultramarathon across Gran Canaria this year my score only reached 20. What’s the point of setting a test if you can never get full marks? If you’ve done it, send me a screenshot and I’ll put it in the Louvre.
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• My tour of Balmoral before King Charles throws open the doors
Then there’s the recovery flaw. All Whoop users will tell you of the horror of waking up feelin’ dandy, thinking you’ve slept well, only to check your app and see that Whoop disagrees: you’re actually in the red. It’s the app’s way of telling you you’ve hit rock bottom. What is this gaslighting?
Not to mention the leaderboards. You can join a virtual group with other Whoop users you know and compete for the best recovery, sleep or strain scores. It all starts as a bit of old-fashioned rivalry but quickly becomes ridiculous. Take my friend Miranda, who started going to bed at 8pm every night to ensure she got the best sleep score in our group. Meanwhile, other members were getting up at 5am to cram in as much exercise as possible.
Granted, there are a few things about Prince William’s Whoop I’d like to know: what his highest strain has been; his sleep score the morning after that Sandringham summit; if he’s dropped to 1 per cent recovery. As for being in a Whoop group with him? I’d rather wear a Fitbit.
