
The Olympic Forest Park, with its fresh greenery, is refreshing.
"Tongfu Inn," a name that carries a hint of camaraderie yet feels warm, is home to a group of badminton enthusiasts. On Wednesday, April 18th, the day of Tongfu Inn’s activity, when you walk into the Huìwén Middle School badminton hall, you see all the courts fully occupied, filled with the sounds of shuttlecocks hitting and feet moving. Courts 10 and 14 are the domain of Tongfu Inn.
The founder of Tongfu Inn is an 80s-born young man named Yao Qi. According to him, this badminton enthusiast group was established in 2010 and now has over 90 members of various ages. Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays are their regular activity days, with about 30 to 40 members able to make it to at least two sessions a week.
How did “Tongfu Inn” come about? Yao Qi said, “I started playing badminton in 2008 just for fun. Later, I found a badminton group online, but after playing for a while, I realized there were some inconveniences, which is why I decided to organize my own group.”
Unlike some badminton groups that make money by selling rackets or teaching techniques, Tongfu Inn is non-profit, aiming only to bring enthusiasts together for fitness.
Finding a venue is essential for organizing badminton activities. After checking out many badminton courts across Beijing, Yao Qi eventually chose Huìwén Middle School. It’s not only close to where most members live, but also offers good facilities. Most importantly, it has heating in winter, making activities more comfortable.
A good venue naturally attracts many enthusiasts. Booking the court every week became Yao Qi’s biggest headache. “Now we can’t reserve Huìwén’s courts long-term, so we have to call weekly. Some members have asked for more courts, but only these two are available during our time slot.”
In this era of fitness for all, more and more people are gravitating toward smaller ball sports like badminton and table tennis. Tongfu Inn is no exception—there are plenty of badminton fanatics. Co-organizer Ms. Cai pointed to a middle-aged man on the court and said, “Look at that brother, he’s in business and often travels abroad. Sometimes he calls from the airport overseas to book a game—even before he’s back, he’s already thinking about playing badminton.”
Here, the activities go beyond just playing badminton. Ms. Cai said, “Sometimes the group organizes small competitions, giving out prizes related to badminton, like socks or grip tape. Usually, we also go singing or have barbecues together—the interactions go way beyond badminton. When someone faces work troubles, everyone helps brainstorm solutions.”
“Ironmen” are among us
New team uniforms have been printed, and the “ironmen” are ready to set off.
Last June, Beijing’s first purely spontaneously formed triathlon club—Skins Qunying Triathlon Club—was born. Shared interests and lifestyles brought over 40 people together.
Speaking of the club’s founder, Dang Qi, there is indeed something legendary about him. This “muscle man” worked as a flight attendant for six years, studied at the Beijing Film Academy, and is now a fitness coach.
Since 2007, Dang Qi has been participating in domestic triathlon competitions. “At the beginning, I was training alone. I posted my training experiences on the Dongfanghong Sports website, and unexpectedly, many like-minded friends wanted to train with me.” What started as solo training gradually became group training, and competitions became a shared experience. The amateur “ironmen” community continued to grow.
Although they had been training together for years, it wasn’t until last year that the idea of forming a club emerged. Members include university professors, civil servants, architectural designers, IT professionals, and white-collar workers... They come from all walks of life. “Triathlon is a hobby; work is the main job.” During weekdays, everyone trains independently, and on weekends, Dang Qi gathers the team for collective activities.
This year, there are 10 domestic triathlon events, and the club will participate in every one. Dang Qi explained, “Travel and accommodation costs for competitions are all paid by the athletes themselves. Only those who truly love the sport can do this. Forming the club is not for profit—it’s simply to provide a better platform for triathlon enthusiasts to connect.”
To many, “triathlon” seems out of reach, but in fact, it’s not.
There is a club member with the online name “Erjiujiu,” a senior white-collar worker born in 1976 with two children. In April 2011, he joined the club with zero experience. At that time, he couldn’t even swim freestyle, but Dang Qi personally taught him everything. After a year of training, he can now swim 1500 meters freestyle in 33 minutes and has been competing with the club since last year.
You won’t know until you try—and once you do, it’s magical. Club members say, “Triathlon is a sport you can’t stop once you start—it subtly changes your attitude toward life.” They also embrace this principle: “Don’t compare with others, only with yourself.” Since everyone’s age, physical condition, and training time vary, results differ—but as long as you put effort into the sport, compared to yesterday’s self, you’ll definitely improve.
“Training, making friends, competing, and traveling—all in one”—this is the common goal of the club members.
They are setting off soon for the Fuzhou race at the end of April.
Run wild and unleash your energy
“Lift your legs, open your eyes—lush greenery abounds, flowers bloom just for you. This weekend is our prime time, and we’ll leave our footprints on the path.”
These words floated in from Weibo, stirring excitement. So, without hesitation, I signed up, instantly completed the “online check-in”…
On the early morning of April 21st, Beijing was overcast, slightly cool after the rain, and the air was moist. The Olympic Forest Park, with its fresh greenery, was refreshing. The running club “Escape Society” gathered here as scheduled.
At the pavilion gathering point, dozens of members arrived one after another—some were middle school students in their teens, others were elderly with white hair. Fu Kun, the club leader, said, “People come from different industries and gather here because of a shared passion. Our philosophy is ‘natural movement,’ promoting sports that bring you closer to nature.”
This is a grassroots running group with zero membership barriers. All it takes is filling out a simple online form, clicking a mouse, and you’re “registered”—no fees required. When it’s time for an event, just show up and enjoy the sport—that’s all. Fu Kun said there are nearly 600 members, but it’s rare for everyone to attend. “Everyone has the freedom to come when they have time.”
The fitness trail in Olympic Forest Park is 5 kilometers per lap. Escape Society members usually run three or four laps, and one female member runs four laps totaling 20 kilometers before walking back 10 kilometers to her home near Gulou.
The home base of the Escape Club is at Olympic Forest Park, where many sports clubs gather. But running enthusiasts have come to regard the Escape Club as the "top-tier club." Though it's just simple running, each event has a distinctive theme—this time it was "La Belle Époque." "We want every activity to offer a unique and refreshing experience," said Fu Kun.
Their weekly Saturday "rendezvous" has never been interrupted. In addition to Olympic Forest Park, they've explored other "battlefields," such as the recent "Run to a Feast." Members rented cars to Liugou Village in Yanqing, Beijing, where they ran through picturesque scenery before indulging in the village’s specialty—Tofu Banquet. Transportation and meals were on a pay-as-you-go basis, but the club leaders scouted ahead to choose the most beautiful and suitable routes. Soon, they’ll be organizing events like "Marathon Pilgrimage" and "Marathon by the Sea"...
"Why is it called the Escape Club?"
"First of all, 'escape' isn’t a negative word. Everyone hopes to find release and enjoyment through exercise, letting body and mind come alive," said Fu Kun. Many of the current members are white-collar workers under significant job pressure, so an outlet is essential. As he spoke, a young member nearby joked, "I’d rather drop dead on the road than keel over at work!"
What a football "Madman Xie"
Xie Qiang—had it not been for football, he probably wouldn’t be so "famous." And it’s precisely because he opened a barbershop on Beijing’s Tiyuguan Road that this striker was lured back to the pitch like a siren call.
Xie Qiang’s "fame" doesn’t stem from his exceptional football skills or the fact that he can still play a full 90 minutes at age 47. Rather, it’s because he’s shrunk his barbershop from 17 employees down to just himself and his wife. His "reckless" story was revealed by his wife, Liu Yue’e, who complained to a reporter, "He’s so obsessed with football that business has dwindled. Our shop went from over 100 square meters to just 30 now." Despite things getting this dire, he remains defiant, shutting up shop to play ball whenever he feels like it. Liu Yue’e has lost her temper and argued countless times, but she can’t stop her husband’s passion for football. Though she blames football for their struggles, Xie Qiang denies losing customers because of it—though he admits his twice-weekly matches are non-negotiable. "After today’s game, I’m already looking forward to the next one."
Liu Yue’e reported, "The other day, Xie Qiang had a fever. Before 6 PM, he had me close up so he could rest before playing that night. Just then, a regular customer came in and asked if he could still get a haircut. He said, ‘I’m not feeling well, my legs can’t stand.’ But the moment the customer left, he jumped up, changed clothes, and went to play despite the fever."
"When there’s a football match on, he ignores waiting customers and watches the game anyway. The staff had to say, ‘Boss, can you do your side hustle first, then your main job?’ You tell me, some customers understand his approach, others don’t—and isn’t that bound to drive people away?"
During the interview, a call came in asking if the boss was there. Xie Qiang said most regulars now call ahead to avoid a wasted trip. He admitted he might be the only shop owner in Beijing who runs things this way.
Over the past year, Xie Qiang has suffered injuries to all four limbs. Once, when his leg was in a cast, he cut hair while using crutches. Another time, his hand was injured, but he played through the pain. This led to a classic exchange between the couple. In Xie Qiang’s words, "Better to hurt the hand than the leg—if the leg’s fine, I can still play." Liu Yue’e retorted, "If anything’s gotta get hurt, let it be the leg, not the hand. That way, the haircuts don’t suffer."
This is Xie Qiang—a football madman.
Hui Chao: A Model for Grassroots Football
Every weekend, Zhang Xiaobo, who lives in Beijing’s Jinsong area, wakes up earlier than on workdays. A devoted footballer, he’s recently fallen for the Huilongguan amateur league. "Getting a feel for it—I want to join next year," Zhang said. For amateur football fans, playing in the "Hui Chao" feels almost like Messi competing in the World Cup.
Hui Chao—the amateur football league spontaneously organized by residents of Beijing’s Huilongguan community—has grown like wildgrass alongside this migrant-filled suburban city.
Huilongguan’s football history began with residents playing pick-up games by the roadside. "The surroundings were undeveloped fields and wild grass, and you could hear frogs croaking at night..." These casual games continued from 1999 until the end of 2002, when residents formed Huilongguan’s first football team—the Wild Boar Forest Team. From the start, the team adopted a professional approach: unified jerseys, flags, and emblems, team rules, and special training camps before major matches. These details gradually influenced other teams that followed.
As more teams emerged within the community, the idea of organizing a league naturally followed. "With so many teams, coordinating matches, times, and fields was a hassle—why not unify everything into a proper league?" Thus, the first Owners’ Cup was born in 2004, featuring nine teams. Though the league only lasted a month, that modest beginning united the pick-up players.
By the second league in 2005, Hui Chao had 11 teams. In running the league, residents began embracing the refined tastes of the middle class. Their bold moves elevated Hui Chao’s organization to a whole new level of professionalism. In those passionate days, organizers often worked late into the night—rushing home after 8 PM shifts, grabbing a quick bite, then diving into meetings. Decisions were often heated, even involving slammed tables. Sessions sometimes lasted until 2 or 3 AM before they’d go home for a few hours’ sleep, only to head back to work by 6 AM.
When the Hui Chao league officially launched that year, media dubbed it "China’s First Community Football League." Behind that prestigious title was the residents’ boundless love and hunger for the game—and, of course, plenty of hard work.
Hui Chao grew steadily, but it once faced existential challenges, the biggest being funding. This time, however, support poured in—from media to government, from field providers to sports lottery funds—all backing grassroots football.
At the opening ceremony of the 2012 9th "Changping Sports Lottery Cup" Huilongguan Super Football League, a performance by the "Little Hui Chao" (comprising about 60 kids aged U6 and U9) stole the show. The event also featured the league’s theme song for the first time—"Nothing in life is impossible, get ready to strive together, create tomorrow’s miracles..."