Editors note: this piece is meant to be humorous and in no way offensive to your chosen exercise practice – we encourage any form of healthy living that best suits you!
We were just settling into our new townhome, but as soon as I saw our neighbors – I knew I was in trouble.
I was in the process of lugging bottles in to restock my wine rack, while my neighbor was outside building a squat rack.
They rushed over to introduce themselves, and right after the names of their children and hometown, there it was.
“You guys do CrossFit?”
And suddenly it seemed like CrossFit was everywhere. As my husband in-processed into his new unit, he was warmly invited to the 04:30 session. I plugged into the Key Spouse and Family Readiness Groups, and within five minutes of the first meeting – found myself begging off a very eager set of invitations to join the next morning’s WOD (that’s workout-of-the-day). They slept in though – and only started at 05:00.
I had stumbled full force into the CrossFit Craze.
Granted, in the military community – the allure of CrossFit makes sense, as our military members must always be prepared to battle any and everything, from natural disasters to combat, and emergencies.
And I do enjoy working out. I’m fit. I love yoga and hiking. But for me, the zealous fanaticism of CrossFit is just too much!
This is why.
Reverse Fight Club
It takes zero guess work to know if someone does CrossFit.
Have you heard of our lord and savior, CrossFit?
Visit CrossFit’s main site, and you’ll find their 255-page training bible, erm—guide, that instructs you in the ways in which you should go. But I am convinced that there’s another pamphlet out there. Some clandestine guide, where members earn trinkets and accolades, and have a WOD named after them once they recruit enough new members.
“One of Us! One of Us!”
I made a crucial mistake the first time I encountered a CrossFitter. I made polite conversation, and immediately got a firehose of information. Thrilled that I might be at least mildly interested, they couldn’t talk fast enough. I learned about a handful of “girls” named: Angie, Barbara, Chelsea, Diane, Elizabeth, and Fran – and I briefly wondered if they might want to go out for wine later…until I realized these were just more names for WODs.
I’m sorry – how much was that?
CrossFit fitness centers are called “boxes” and as a very accurate depiction of their name – that’s exactly what they look like. A sparse, institutional-like square warehouse with some medicine balls, kettlebells, barbells, and a bunch of wooden boxes everywhere.
On average, a monthly box membership will run well over a $100. Close to a big city, rates can climb to near $300 bucks.
I’m just not sold that shelling out nearly $200 bucks a month to work out in a space that looks like the lumber section of a Home Depot, is worth it.
This is Sparta!
But, I’ll admit it – curiosity…and a whole lot of peer pressure, did get the better of me.
Once.
I tried one workout. It was more than enough. In our local “box,” I got a scaled-down version of the day’s WOD as I couldn’t deadlift and roll a cement-filled tractor tire down the length of the building, and do a million burpees. All for time of course.
The handful of coaches “giving” me encouragement did not enhance the experience, nor did any of the other CrossFitters, who upon finishing their workouts early – decided to pile on and yell more encouragement to the newbie. James Hetfield did his best to pound out “Enter Sandman” in my headphones, but even Metallica wasn’t enough to drown out the yelling. I couldn’t run for the hills fast enough.
Over the years, of course my workout playlists have grown – but there will always be a smirk of nostalgia whenever a Metallica song is queued up.
And invariably, if I look up from my machine or set my free-weights down, there they are. A fresh set of CrossFitters, all sharing that unmistakable gleam in their eyes – as they head for our gym’s latest trapeze rig.
You do you, CrossFitters. Thanks, but no thanks.