Thirty years of tinkering with the «Eisenhorn» multi-gym: a man in pursuit of perfection
What started out as a contraption in his childhood bedroom has become engineer Mike Schrag's obsession. Over the years, he's been refining his take on the ideal fitness station: the «Eisenhorn». It's versatile, compact and stylish – but for Schrag, strength training is a means to an end, not a passion.
Even a means to an end should be perfect. Or so the perfectionist says, anyway. The perfectionist is always busy, always restless, never fully satisfied. That's why this is a long story, going way back and delving deep into detail. Because Mike, as it'll soon become clear, doesn't do things by halves. Either he does things right until the bitter end, or he doesn't start them at all. And when he does choose «the bitter end», the bar is high. Just like that of the contraption on the wall, whose mixture of wood, metal and cable screws looks both homely and strange at the same time. The «Eisenhorn» dominates the room. Which isn't hard, because there's not much else to detract from it: just a couple of cameras and gadgets and a studio background – all of it focused on this one product. The spotlights. The company. The developer's thoughts. Photographer Thomas Kunz and I went to discover the story behind it all. We thought it best to start off in Plaffeien, in the canton of Freiburg, where the story begins.
Outside, snow crystals glisten in the sun, each one a good argument not to waste time indoors pumping iron. Both the snow and the constant temptation to skip workouts, however, are why the Eisenhorn exists. Mike Schrag himself is no stranger to the call of the outdoors. A poster on the wall shows him flying through the air on crisscrossed skis. «Strength training is a means to an end for most people,» he says over coffee and mandarin oranges at the conference table. Let’s face it, not many people love slaving away at the gym. «I want to make training as efficient as possible and be fit for the stuff that’s actually fun,» says Schrag. This rang true as early as thirty years ago as Schrag sat in his childhood bedroom a few miles away in Schwarzsee. Convinced that he was too skinny to achieve his sporting dreams, he recognised a need for improvement.
A silver medal kicked things off
«Where we live, ski racing is the sport. That was the case for my dad, then me, and now my son is in junior racing too.» Schrag, fit and focused, reminisces in his Freiburg twang about a day in 1987. The experience has shaped him and is emblematic of how he ticks today. «I was twelve years old, and I can remember the day exactly. There was a race in Schwarzsee, a championship, where I finished second.» Not bad. But for someone as ambitious as Schrag, being runner-up didn’t cut it.
«It upset me,» he laughs, «and I thought it was because my body wasn't strong or powerful enough.» People who don't do things by halves will do whatever it takes to reach the top. Schrag's ambition is typical of competitively minded personalities. But the way he set about achieving his goals was unusual even then. Instead of sticking a bench in the basement and lifting weights, he began creating his own fitness machine «made of old planks of wood, iron bars and ropes that were lying around.»
Back then, he couldn't be choosy, but he could be creative. «I put my thinking cap on, started screwing things together, and then I had my first piece of exercise equipment set up in my childhood bedroom.» Schrag doesn't strike me as the sentimental type. However, because his childlike handiwork was the first step in a long journey, the memory of it lingers even now: «That was basically the birth of today's company, although I wasn’t aware of it at that point.»
His reminiscing alternates between flashes of subtle humour and precise, step-by-step accounts – the engineer inside him leaping up to quash the joker. Details are important to him. «From Childhood Bedroom to Fitness Entrepreneur» would be an abridged version of the story. But it's a good one, because the boy of the 80s hasn't stopped tinkering to this day. Life took a few twists and turns until the Eisenhorn could be launched, but even then, the basic idea had already taken root: «I wanted the device to be compact, and to keep it in my apartment. Not in the basement, but somewhere good, where it wasn't too cold.» True to form, Mike Schrag wanted to be up high.
Two more years of tinkering
The high-flying ski career doesn't take off, so Schrag forges a new path, completing an apprenticeship as a mechanical engineer. In his free time, he continues to pursue his pet project: building the device for his own use, screwdriver in hand. He just can't help it. «For some reason it kept bothering me. I was never truly satisfied with it,» he says. Schrag could've banished his contraption to the basement for good and focused on his first company. His product design, engineering and prototype building company is successful, but the perfectionist in him has to push on with his first idea. To take advantage of his growing know-how. To build something he'd really set his heart on, rather than just stuff for other people. «I worked on my vision during those two decades,» he says nonchalantly. The 90s and 00s pass. Schrag's side project doesn't become his main focus until 2010.
His youngest son's own ski ambitions are ultimately what keeps Schrag's inventive spirit alive, ensuring the Eisenhorn's place in the spotlight as a completed product today. Nothing is more motivating than sharing a passion with your children and passing on your own experience. Schrag sees a second chance to use his training device to balance out a physical disadvantage. «My son obviously has the same genetic attributes as me – he's also small and light for his age. That was the ultimate motivation for me to say, «Now I'm going to do everything right.» For Mike Schrag, «right» means going all in. «Every penny I earned went into the project,» he says. Time, money and company manpower flow into the project.
Big plans in a small space
His son grows, and so do Schrag's ambitions – and his belief that the project could become more than just a hobby. «At some point, I realised that it was something that other people would be interested in,» Schrag says. His vision takes shape and follows clear goals. «I really wanted to be able to do full-body workouts,» he says. Of course. Schrag doesn't do half measures. «Real squats. Real bench presses. Real shoulder presses. Pull-ups. Lat pull-downs. Deadlifts. Executed as perfectly as they would be in a gym.» He wants all of this to fit into the smallest possible space – just as he'd once imagined in his childhood bedroom. By the same token, the device should be easy to use: «It's important to be able to adjust the position and resistance very quickly, so you can periodise and train in intervals.»
Schrag soldiered on single-handedly with his tweaks. «The mechanics were really basic, but you can certainly see its properties,» he says of the functional samples that emerged in the early 2010s. A sliding, rotating cartridge fixed to a track. A piston providing different resistance depending on the angle selected by a gas spring. A then-nameless horn of iron, jutting into the room.
Ideas itching to become tangible reality: «You can simulate everything in the CAD model,» says Schrag. «But eventually, there comes a point where you say: now I have to feel it.» He also senses that after some aesthetic tweaks, the device might even be suitable for living rooms. «That made the design idea more important,» he recalls. «At my old company we were already riding that particular hobbyhorse – bringing mechanics and design together – so that's what went into it.»
A clunky contraption «with a bit of «plastic fantastic» to spruce it up» isn't an option for Schrag. Not for a second. He keeps his flow of thoughts and development under wraps as much as possible. «At some point, I started discussing it within the company and getting others involved, but it was still top secret. I kept the prototype at my place, and my son and I spent hours training with it.» For three more years, he pressed on with the development in secret. Denn es gilt auch, handfeste Interessen zu wahren. «Mittlerweile sind vier Patente auf dem Gerät, es ist relativ umfangreich geschützt», sagt Schrag. He has claimed everything from the shifting and rotating mechanism to the resistance adjustment and cable pull as his intellectual property. In this area too, it's all or nothing.
New company, new stroke of luck
«All or nothing» included taking a big step in 2014. «When I founded Eisenhorn, it was the end of the summer, and a good six months later I sold my other company.» The move chimes with Schrag's inner conviction. «From the outside, everyone thought; okay, he's completely lost his mind. Why is he selling his company and starting over with something like that? But it didn't bother me for a minute. I was 100 per cent sure that this is what I want to do.» And can do. After all, his penchant for tinkering is bolstered by entrepreneurial spirit.
Not only does Schrag have an MBA and relevant experience, but he also has a clear vision. He wants to have a personal connection with his customers. In addition, he produces locally – not just out of fondness for his homeland, but because he's convinced that it pays off: «Going to Asia might be the right path for some people, but for our quality requirements, production in Switzerland is the only option. Plus, the Swiss supply industry is very competitive if you do the full cost accounting correctly.»
The world and the masses can wait, even if there's the odd Eisenhorn or two hanging on walls overseas today. The customer base is said to be increasing bit by bit. «We made our first real test appearance at a regional trade fair,» says Schrag, who took his device to market in 2015. «We set up our stand between the garage and the craftsmen's workshop and blocked the passage for four days. Our stand was overrun. That's when we knew for sure that we had something good.»
A device that fulfils the criteria Schrag once set out in the product brief: full-body training. Compact. Visually appealing and easy to use. In fact, a few simple manoeuvres with the knob and track are all it takes to set the Eisenhorn in position, select a resistance via the angle of the piston, and get started. Schrag doesn't want to leave customers to their own devices when it comes to training either: «From the very beginning, I was convinced that we shouldn't just be an equipment manufacturer – we should provide an overall concept. A training concept and support that most of our customers need.»
A perfectly timed 30-year run-up
He's now standing by the monitor wall in his studio, where training videos are created for the website and his Mike5 concept. «If we’re to serve customers in London and New York some day, it has to go digital anyway,» says Schrag. He pursues gradual progress while keeping the big, wide world in mind. Even there, things can suddenly move forward if you're faced with the consequences of global events.
The pandemic has sparked a trend for high-quality home fitness equipment. Online training courses and their communities are in higher demand than ever before. And businesses that aren't dependent on global supply chains have a clear advantage. After a thirty-year run-up, it appears Schrag took the plunge at exactly the right time. Timing is everything. Like the skier in the poster, which falls into view again as we head out into the snow to check out the production line situated a few kilometres away.
Schrag works with around 30 businesses in Switzerland, producing regionally where possible. Discovering what this looks like involves just a short car ride from company HQ or a walk from Schrag's home in Schwarzsee. At Endless Wood, the homely scent of freshly treated wood fills the air. Being the perfectionist that he is, Mike Schrag hasn't quite finished the Eisenhorn yet. He’s never been able to tick it off his mental to-do list. There's always something to improve, whether it's the device itself or the way it's incorporated into a room. That's how the idea to build a cabinet for the Eisenhorn came about.
«I’ve known Phippu for a long time, but here everyone knows each other anyway,» says Schrag, slapping Philippe Raemy on the shoulder. Pointing out that Raemy has led the carpentry and woodworking business into its third generation, he says, «It was clear relatively quickly that he’d be the first person I’d ask to produce the cabinets in bulk.» And so he did. The neighbours decided to team up.
«We started with the first prototypes in 2014,» says Raemy. Today, there’s a process in place. The wood is pre-sanded, then dowel holes and their pins are milled with a CNC machine. After that, the product is smoothed and polished by hand. «We basically produce the cabinets untreated and then the customer has the option to have it oiled in the colour of their choice,» Schrag says. For Raemy, local co-production is a good thing: «Batch producing things from the region is fun.»
Over the years, a vision has been cast in form and function: from that first childhood bedroom contraption to today’s product, topped off with mass-produced cabinet. The Eisenhorn is basically the brainchild of its inventor. At the end of our visit, I can only guess how much energy has been poured into it over the years. But is it perfect yet? «Now it’s actually...», Mike Schrag begins. You can see him wrestling with the word on the tip of his tongue before he swallows it and says: «very good.» Perfection might be constantly on his mind, but the word «perfect», never crosses his lips.
Sports scientist, high-performance dad and remote worker in the service of Her Majesty the Turtle.