Estimated reading time: 7 minutes

Ditch the corporate shit and talk about actual behavior.

Alright … here we go *Athena cracking her knuckles*….

I’m going to step into the middle of the floor here because I hear two very loud conversations happening in the CrossFit space right now, and they are completely missing each other.

On one side, you hear calls for CrossFit to become “more inclusive.” On the other side, you have parts of the community whose defenses instantly go up. Why? Because it can feel like an accusation. They look at their open doors, their scaled workouts, and their diverse memberships and shout, “We are already inclusive! Anyone can do this!”

As someone who deeply values this methodology and community, I want to act as a conduit here. My goal is to try (I repeat try)….. to translate what keeps getting lost in the shouting.

The friction isn’t because one side is “woke” and the other side is “bigoted.” Part of the friction exists because they are using the same word “inclusion” to mean totally different things. They are confusing “Access” with “Belonging“. There’s more to it obviously but that’s the one that’s pulling at me this very minute.

A Note on Scope: Let’s be real for a second: Inclusion is a massive pie. There are socioeconomic slices, ADA compliance slices, and systemic barrier slices. It is simply not possible to eat the whole thing in one sitting without choking. So, while I acknowledge that financial and structural barriers are critical parts of this conversation, we aren’t driving down all those lanes today.

The goal of this post is to address the simplest, most fundamental issue clogging up the works: A misunderstanding of terms. We are confusing the logistics of entry INTO THE METHODOLOGY…..with the experience of belonging. So for today, we are putting the other slices aside and focusing strictly on that disconnect.

the objective reality

Let’s be objective. One side isn’t wrong about the logistics.

Access is about the mechanics of entry. Is the door unlocked? Yep. Is there a physical prerequisite to join? Nope. Can the workout be modified for literally any human body? Yep. Logistically, CrossFit is highly accessible.

Belonging, oof…. this is a little more experiential. It’s what happens after someone walks through the door. It’s the sense that someone is safe and respected there. And before you roll your eyes thinking I mean “a safe space”…think of “belonging” to be more about cultural buy-in and mutual respect for effort. It’s not about needing a hug.

The crack in the argument for the “make CrossFit more inclusive” crowd (Athena sighs) is that they are trying to articulate (and often doing a terrible job of it) that it is possible to have perfect Access and zero Belonging.

On the flip side, you have the defenders screaming, “We are already inclusive!” just because they have scaled options. They are so busy defending the castle that they’ve stopped checking if the drawbridge is actually down. They aren’t even trying to understand the conversation, and frankly, it shows.

the elephant in the room

We can’t have an honest translation session without acknowledging the reality of CrossFit culture.

We are not a generic globo-gym. I mean we’re loud, we value aggression, speed, and heavy weights. We celebrate suffering together. The vibe in a good affiliate is closer to a barracks versus some phu-phu studio.

That intensity is what forges resilience. Nobody wants to water that down to make people feel “comfortable.” To hell with that. They’re absolutely right.

However….. here is where the translation breaks down: That intensity is easily misread by an outsider as exclusion. But let me see if I can illustrate in a couple ways.

one example: the partner work-out

Let me try a very simple example: The moment a coach yells, “Okay, grab a partner for the work-out!”

To the core crew, this is automatic. They immediately lock eyes with their usual buddy in 2.5 seconds. They know how thier gonna split the reps; yep that fast.

But look at that same 2.5 seconds through the eyes of the outsider (the new person who doesn’t look like the rest of the group or know anyone yet). While everyone else is instantly pairing off amid laughs and inside jokes, they are left standing alone in the middle of the floor and suddenly back in 7th-grade gym class being picked last. In that moment, the access is irrelevant, because the lack of belonging is humiliating.

where the signals get lost

If we look at the daily operations of a box through this “access vs. belonging” lens, we can spot exactly where sometimes the signal gets lost. These aren’t vague cultural vibes; these are controllable mechanics of running a class.

The Whiteboard Briefing

How the workout is presented sets the cultural stage for the hour.

• The Observation: Access means scaling options exist on the board. Belonging means those options are treated with equal respect.
• The Misfire: The coach spends ten minutes detailing the complexities of the Rx workout, hyping up the intended stimulus for the firebreathers. Then, almost as an afterthought, they say, “And if you can’t do that, just grab lighter dumbbells or do ring rows.”
• The Fix: The controllable action is briefing the stimulus first, then presenting Rx and Scaled options as two equally valid paths to achieving that stimulus. Don’t make the scaled athletes feel like they are doing the “consolation prize” workout.

The Coaching Cues Disconnect

The gap between access and belonging often shows up in the type of attention different athletes receive during the WOD.

• The Observation: Access means everyone gets coached. Belonging means everyone gets the same caliber of technical respect.
• The Misfire: The coach gives enthusiastic, technical cues to the athlete snatching 225 lbs but gives generic “pity pats” to the athlete struggling with an empty bar (“Good job just showing up!).
• The Fix: The controllable action is giving the empty-bar athlete technical respect. Coach their movement with the same seriousness and expectation of effort that you apply to the heavy lifter. Treat them like an athlete, not a charity case. Respecting the scaled athlete means correcting their faults, not just telling them “good job.”

reclaiming our favorite shield

Before we cool down, we have to address the biggest shield in the CrossFit arsenal. The phrase we love to use when things get uncomfortable:

“CrossFit is for anyone, but it’s not for everyone.“

Like I said, as a conduit watching this dynamic, I see this phrase getting misused constantly.

This phrase used to feel honest. It was originally a statement about grit; a warning label that this methodology requires a willingness to confront weakness and endure high levels of discomfort. It meant that if you aren’t willing to do the work, this isn’t for you.

Somewhere along the way, this phrase morphed from a challenge into a cop-out. It has become a convenient shield used to absolve the coaches or the community of responsibility when someone rejects the environment.

We need to draw a hard line here. We must distinguish between someone rejecting the Work and someone rejecting the Vibe.

If someone leaves because they aren’t willing to suffer through Fran, fine. That’s on them. CrossFit isn’t for them.  It’s perfectly acceptable for someone to reject the WORK, and we shouldn’t chase them. That’s it.

But if they leave because they felt invisible, judged, or disresepcted, in our house that’s on us. We can’t use “it’s not for everyone” as an excuse for lazy community building.

the cool-down

Look, I’m just trying to make sure both sides are actually talking to eachother instead of just yelling past one another.

The advocates need to understand that the intensity of the culture IS NOT a mistake that needs fixing; it’s the damn whole point. And the defenders need to understand that an unlocked door IS NOT the same thing as a welcoming seat at the table.

What we do is objectively weird. We voluntarily pay good money to go to gritty gyms, blast music, and induce near-vomiting in pursuit of fitness. It’s a very strange shared bond {{laughing}}.

If we can all agree that is a good time, surely we can agree that it’s better when more people feel like they are in on the joke, rather than just standing awkwardly on the sidelines observing it. We can keep the doors unlocked, keep the weights heavy, and keep the vibe intense. We just need to make sure that when the suffering starts, nobody is left suffering alone. That’s not watering anything down.

*fist bump*