Stop Confusing CrossFit With The CrossFit Games
- Aidan Malody
- Jul 31
- 7 min read
… and why the 100 Words still hit hard
Game Week: 3 Days Of Pure Madness
As the 2025 CrossFit Games kick off this Friday, August 1, the world will tune in for three days of athletic theater—split-second sprints that make your Tuesday 6 am workout look like child’s play, barbell feats that warp the laws of physics, and gymnastic flows on rings so crisp they might as well be choreographed. These athletes spent a full year dialing in every rep, every sprint, every meal—even strategically scheduled naps—only to sprint, snatch, muscle-up, and max-out under roaring lights, then recover in ice baths, compression boots, and micro-naps.
Meanwhile, back at your box, you’re grinding mechanics, chasing PRs, and maybe inventing a new way to crawl off the floor. Blur the line between Games spectacle and your daily grind, and you’ll program disasters, unmet expectations, and a flood of “Wait—what?” texts in your coach’s DMs. They’re siblings, not twins.
But before we chase fancy programming, let’s hit rewind on the original creed and see exactly where we derailed.
“Eat meat and vegetables, nuts and seeds, some fruit, little starch and no sugar. Keep intake to levels that will support exercise but not body fat. Practice and train major lifts: deadlift, clean, squat, presses, C&J, and snatch. Similarly, master the basics of gymnastics: pull-ups, dips, rope climb, push-ups, sit-ups, presses to handstand, pirouettes, flips, splits, and holds. Bike, run, swim, row, etc., hard and fast. Five or six days per week mix these elements in as many combinations and patterns as creativity will allow. Routine is the enemy. Keep workouts short and intense. Regularly learn and play new sports.”
Translation: Eat like an adult. Move like an athlete. Play like a kid. Repeat forever.
From Blog Posts To Garage Whiteboards
Long before “Sport of Fitness™” was a trademark—or HQ spun off a slick programming portal—CrossFit lived as a scrappy blog and a garage-whiteboard side-hustle. You’d fire up CrossFit.com and scroll through Glassman’s workout in a plain-Jane blog post, hit your “Workout of the Day,” and boom—you were ready to roll. Meanwhile, affiliates were scribbling hand-drawn workouts on whiteboards, emailing PDFs, and hand-writing workout details in a sweat-stained Moleskine like it holds the Rosetta Stone of gains.
The goal back then wasn’t spectacle—it was General Physical Preparedness (GPP): a toolkit of real-world movements, scaled intensity, and a data-driven community. A push-up taught more than any machine; a deadlift built more than just muscle; a quick 400m sprint trounced any fancy treadmill. Mechanics came first, then consistency, then intensity. It was inclusive, gritty, and life-proof—hauling groceries, chasing toddlers, or simply not crapping out on the stairs became your warm-up.
This is the foundation we keep returning to—even as the blog turned into “CrossFit Programming,” and those scrappy Moleskine scribbles evolved into a global phenomenon.
When We All Thought We Could Make It
There was a glorious window when most of us genuinely believed, “If I just train a bit harder, I could make Regionals.” I swear I ground my F5 key into dust chasing live leaderboard updates—and each “Nice work, bro” comment felt like a personal standing ovation. It was the Hunger Games of fitness: midnight split-time math, Kelly Starrett’s lacrosse-ball hacks as gospel, Carl Paoli’s handstand video tutorials saving us from face-planting into the floor, and coaching tips swapped in hushed post-workout huddles like contraband secrets. Thousands of gyms, zero filters—until 13-year-olds started snatching 40 lbs more than you and that Regionals dream dimmed. Still, the spark was lit: we were hooked on following “our” athletes, and that fandom was beautiful.
Sport Boom + Wild-West Affiliates = Perception Problem
By 2013, CrossFit affiliates had exploded to roughly 8,000 worldwide—anyone with a weekend cert and a Sharpie could slap up a sign and call it a CrossFit gym. Freedom? Electric. Quality control? Practically non-existent—and accountability? Virtually unheard of.
Some boxes were legendary—sound progressions, spot-on scaling, coaches who actually coached. Others… let’s just say their signature workout was “100 burpees for breakfast.” Cue the shoulder horror stories, the “CrossFit wrecked my back” memes, and your barista politely declining your invite with, “I don’t lift heavy things.”
CrossFit itself isn’t dangerous—half-baked execution is. As HQ later waded through its own accountability crises, the Games highlight reel dazzled millions while grassroots programming quietly morphed into viral clickbait. Swap real GPP for gimmicks, and the foundation cracks—turning a community built on performance into a punchline.
Watered Down vs. Misapplied
You’ll hear grumbles about CrossFit going soft or wrecking people, but the real misses look like this:
Watered Down: Endless circuits of air squats, lunges, and banded glute bridges—45-minute trend-chasing classes that borrowed boutique-gym gimmicks but wore the CrossFit name. You broke a sweat, but the fundamentals sat on the bench.
Misapplied: Semifinals-level workouts programmed for a 6 am rookie class. No mechanics check. No scaling. You gas out, blame CrossFit, then ghost your coach.
True GPP CrossFit = mechanics → consistency → intensity.
Sport CrossFit = an athletic pursuit: big volume, high skill, periodized peaking, and recovery.
Blurring the two is why folks think CrossFit is either “amped up cardio” or a war zone. It’s neither—unless you mix them up.
HQ’s Missteps: Why Trust And Clarity Matter
CrossFit HQ’s recent years have been one crisis after another—tragedy, muddled guidance, and leadership shake-ups that left the entire community questioning its foundation. When Lazar Dukic tragically drowned during an open-water workout, it wasn’t just heartbreaking—it shattered the sport’s promise of safety and accountability. Soon after, conflicting affiliate directives and sudden policy reversals had coaches asking, “What are we even teaching this week?”
The fallout was inevitable. Some boxes neutered their programming to avoid liability; others cranked Semifinals-level workouts at their weekend newbie classes—a fast track to burnout, injury, and ghosted memberships. A methodology built on rigor and accountability collapses without clear standards. We owe our members better: crystal-clear communication, unwavering accountability, and a relentless return to the original 100 Words. That doesn’t mean we’re stuck in 2005—our athletes are stronger and programming has evolved—but it does mean we refuse to muddy the line between foundational methodology and three-day spectacle. Because when execution slips, it doesn’t just wreck workouts—it destroys trust.
The Spectacle’s Magic: Still Worth Your Attention
You could duck out on the drama and pretend the HQ soap opera doesn’t exist—but you’d miss moments that redefine human potential. Witness:
A rope-climb blitz—six ascents in under a minute that leave the stadium breathless.
A 395-lb clean & jerk executed smoother than a symphony crescendo.
A 1,000m row at a pace so blistering your own best splits feel like a stroll.
It’s the CrossFit equivalent of celebrating a 70-foot putt for eagle or a one-handed catch in the end zone, even if you despise the NFL’s soap operas. Watch with curiosity—steal the drills, snag the recovery hacks, and let that fire fuel tomorrow’s workout.
Volume Creep & The Gray Zone—Or What I Like To Call Middle Management Fitness
Some days your lifts feel lighter, Jackie looks like a “fun swim,” and you figure, “Why not tack on an extra metcon before dinner?” Before you know it, you’ve wandered into the Gray Zone—or Middle Management Fitness—that space above baseline fitness but miles from Games-level peaking. In that sweet spot, you’re not a couch potato, but you’re also not running the show as CEO of gains. It can be the engine room of real progress…or a quicksand pit if you’re not careful.
Without deliberate recovery, more sessions don’t translate to more PRs. You’ll grind through bonus circuits, chase every viral 30-day challenge, and wonder why you’re suddenly flat-lined or waking up sore, distracted, and uninspired. More workouts isn’t the cure; context is.
So how do you turn Middle Management Fitness into your secret weapon? It starts with intent: are you in this for better health, a new 1 RM, or simply the thrill of fresh challenges? Zero in on your pinch points—if your hinge mechanics are shaky, extra sprints just bury the real issue. Make sleep, nutrition, and mobility as non-negotiable as your warm-up drill. And ditch the vanity metrics: focus on streaks of consistency, nail your skill mastery, and chase gradual load jumps—leave the Instagram leaderboard flexing to someone else.
Because when you add volume in service of a clear goal, the Gray Zone becomes your launchpad. Pile it on aimlessly, and progress smothers itself—remember: better is quality with purpose, not just piling on more.
One Class, Two Mindsets
At PUSH, everyone crushes the same workout—the only difference is how you show up:
Everyday Mindset: Nail mechanics, own pacing, and build a fitness base that makes daily life feel easier. Scale volume and intensity to match your goals and recovery.
Performance Mindset: Crave tighter splits, extra reps, and a harder push—just don’t skip sleep, nutrition checks, or mobility sessions if you want to bounce back.
Same barbell. Same clock. Different intentions. Flip the dial each session and we’ll tailor reps, loads, and rest to fit your mindset.
“Any program done too hard, too soon, too sloppy breaks humans.”
How To Watch The Games Like A Coach-In-Disguise
Sure, the live feed won’t stop to break down every hinge or handstand push-up rep, but if you tune in like a coach, you’ll snag insights that turbocharge your next workout:
Eavesdrop on commentary. Play-by-play announcers and guest coaches drop technique cues and scaling notes—stash those gems for your box.
Study the slow-mo replays. When they roll back footage of a flawless snatch or a textbook kip swing, freeze-frame that form in your mind (or on your phone).
Spot pacing shifts. Watch how athletes distribute effort between not only movements, but also events—those micro-rest strategies and split-time tactics are pure training gold.
Notice recovery pop-ups. When the camera cuts to athletes grabbing a quick roll, ice pack or sip of recovery shake, take mental notes on their cooldown rituals.
Root for the underdog. Remember your first PR rush? Channel that hype and bring it back to your morning class.
Watch with curiosity, not comparison.
Back To The 100 Words—Our North Star
Before we chase every shiny new trend, let’s drop back to the creed that built this thing:
Eat like an adult. Real food first; sugar’s a fun guest, not the host.
Lift heavy things—well. Deadlifts, squats, presses: build the chassis before you chase the flash.
Control your body. Pull-ups, dips, handstands: gymnastics isn’t circus tricks—it’s practical power.
Go fast sometimes. Sprint, row, Echo Bike—only after you nail your mechanics.
Play stuff. Hike, hoop, surf, pickleball: fitness should add life to your days, not steal them.
Each line is a layer—master these, then remix daily. Stay grounded in these fundamentals, and nothing you throw at your body will ever feel out of reach.
Closing The Loop
The Games? Three days of elite theater. Everyday CrossFit? A never-ending workshop. Cheer the spectacle, then return to your box with fresh eyes—and maybe test those pacing hacks and slick technique cues you spotted on screen.
Move with intent. Show up consistently. And when it’s go-time, hit the gas like a boss. Chasing podium dust? We’ll build you for it. Just here to level up your daily badassery? Also cool. Different mindsets, same respect.
Stay Dope.
Comments