Estimated reading time: 10 minutes

So Why Are We Acting Like It Did?

People keep asking me, “What do you think of Metfix?”

Let me say this plainly: I’ve been around long enough to know you can change the name, start a new company, or slap a different logo on the door, but the recipe hasn’t changed.

The squats are still squatting. The intensity still works. The truth and nutrition still taste the same, even if the macros have changed slightly.

a familiar song, just remixed

Metfix is being talked about as if it is something brand new. But from where I sit, it is the same song, just remixed. I love music, most in the world, second to the methodology. The method, the message, and the core beliefs are still the same. Greg’s convictions have not shifted. The fundamentals are still intact.

So what is the ask here? Should I trade in my CrossFit hoodie for one that says Metfix? Why? I already have the recipe.

And I do not say that with sarcasm. I say it with clarity, and maybe a little ache.

when the door feels half-shut

It felt like a party that not everyone got invited to. Like we were back in middle school and someone said, “Sorry, I can only have twelve people over. I wish I could invite you.” That tone of exclusivity did not feel inspiring. It felt off. And that feeling? It had consequences. I have heard from brilliant coaches, thought leaders, and longtime affiliates who turned around before they even stepped in; not because they were offended, but because the approach felt closed, selective, and vaguely performative. When the welcome feels limited, we risk losing the very minds and hearts that could have strengthened the work. This is not about ego. It is about the door we hold open. And this one felt half-shut.

sorry, Rembrandt

Many of affiliates and coaches were waiting with real hope for Greg’s return. They were ready to reconnect with the coach who changed their lives and gave them language, purpose, and a way out of the mess. But instead of a weekend at the zoo with Dad and a bag of popcorn, it felt like their standoffish aunt hijacked the trip and took them to an abstract art museum. No offense to Rembrandt, but they came for elephants. Was MetFix really Greg’s return? The voice was different, and it did not feel the same. *shrug* Don’t kill the messenger.

the power was in the simplicity

And that is the part that keeps catching in my throat. Greg’s genius was not just in the method. It was in how approachable he made it and how approachable he was and is. The 100 Words. The simplicity. The clarity. He built a platform that helped people regain their health with everyday tools.

And now, suddenly, it feels like so much complexity.

we built this through sweat, not resumes

Instead of talking about the last round of Murph or how Helen punched us in the lungs, we are handed a resume. But gatekeeping never built this community. Shared suffering did. “What is your Fran time?” might sound like nonsense to outsiders, but inside the walls of a box, it is how friendships start.

That is the thing. This was never supposed to feel like an audition.

Some of the feedback has been that the community feels like seat-fillers. Like they are expected to smile politely while someone else takes the stage; someone who has never carried the weight, never coached the hour, never come back from the edge of chronic disease, but now speaks with authority as if they have.

lived experience is not theory

I am not questioning intent. But I am questioning execution.

I don’t need someone to explain chronic disease to me from a whiteboard or a webinar. I’ve lived in a body that was nearly taken out by it. I’ve sat across from doctors who told me to prepare for a shorter life. I’ve woken up with joints that couldn’t carry me to the mailbox. So when I talk about reversing chronic disease, I’m not quoting a study….. I am the study.

If you’ve never carried this weight, never been dismissed in a medical office, never had to fight for your own body back, then you’re teaching theory. I’m teaching from the battlefield.

That doesn’t mean I’m not open to learning more. I always am. But I’m not looking for someone to reinvent the wheel; I’m looking for someone who knows what it feels like to push that wheel uphill. If you’ve got something that expands the conversation, I’m here for it. If you’ve got research that sharpens the blade, I’ll listen. But I’m not signing up to be re-taught the basics by someone who’s never lived the consequences. Chronic disease isn’t a trending topic to me, it’s a war I’ve survived. That’s not theory, it’s earned.

what greg really gave us

CrossFit was never perfect. But it gave me something no textbook ever did: agency.

One of the greatest gifts Greg gave us was not programming. It was permission to think critically, scale independently, and build what was missing in our corner of the world.

I did not wait to be spoon-fed. I built my seminar, started Scaled Nation, crafted a space where larger-bodied athletes could belong, where chronic disease was not a hypothetical but a daily fight we were learning how to win.

That is what absolute autonomy looks like.

what is metfix, really?

So when I see a new banner being waved, I pause; not out of bitterness, but because I already believe in this mission and am not eager to rebrand the fire I am still burning in.

There is also confusion. What exactly is Metfix? Is it Broken Science? Is it a media project? A curriculum? An affiliation model? Do I need to co-sign someone’s worldview just to keep my seat at the table?

Metfix originally came out with the message that it was a nutrition program. Which immediately raised the question: Are we talking about the CrossFit Nutrition prescription? Because that has been crystal clear for twenty years. What changed? What did Greg change? He just said the other day nothing has. So, what’s the program here?

nutrition program? uhmm…… ok.

Metfix says, “CrossFit doesn’t teach nutrition anymore.” “Crossfit only focus on the Games”. Who in the hell are they talking about? CrossFit HQ? Because out here in the affiliates, we’ve been doing it since day one. I talk about nutrition in every class. Friday night lights? Yeah, we’re not handing out pizza and soda. We bring in chefs and cooking classes. We teach people how to get creative with the beautiful basics. That’s not new! It’s what we’ve always done. Oh, talk about nutrition from the whiteboard at the beginning of class? Once again, not new.

Of all the questions that have hit my inbox over the last six months, what are you asking me to swap? What would I be getting that I didn’t learn from the very beginning?

And one more thing. If you are going to call something a nutrition program, especially one that claims to target chronic disease, you cannot ignore psychology and human behavior. Obesity now affects nearly 60 percent of the population. Any program worth its weight that skips over the ‘why’ behind what people do, how they cope, and how they eat is missing the whole damn point. That’s not a solution. If you want to “cure obesity” but don’t press how the behavior change happens and what healing actually means? I am going to leave this right here.

I am not switching kitchens

No, I’m not not interested in a new flag. I do not need to run out and change my affiliation to prove my respect for the methodology or its creator. That respect is in my blood. It lives in my coaching, commitment, and quiet moments when no one is watching and I am still doing the work. I do not want to be cornered and made to feel like I have to choose a side. There is no side. We are all CrossFit. That has always been the beauty of it. We were never meant to be divided by branding or banners. We were meant to be united by the mission.

It is understood that Metfix is not trying to replace CrossFit. It feels more like an extension (an evolved branch from the same tree). I get this. I could also see how it might run in parallel, anchored to the same roots, assuming there is a new evolution in the material or that it was somehow strictly a nutrition program. But is there? From everything I can see, that material has always been there and its getting harder to believe it’s a nutrition program when we’ve got WOD of the day now.

I will always be a student. I’ve never turned my back on learning. But for something to earn a new affiliation, it has to offer more. It has to meet a need the original no longer meets. It has to make sense not just on paper, but in practice.

Right now, holding two affiliations that speak the same language, carry the same prescription, and target the same mission feels redundant at best, confusing at worst. I’m not against growth. I just need to know that what I’m committing to expands the work, not just repackages it.

And so far? That hasn’t been made clear.

I really haven’t seen anything we haven’t already been doing since the beginning. I haven’t seen anything released that wasn’t a regurgitation of the incredible things Greg has been saying since day one. And I’m not saying that to be flippant. So if this is an evolution, show me where the evolution lives.

the mission hasn’t moved

This is not anti-Metfix. If Metfix fires you up, I will cheer you on! If you’re the fanatic about the Games, enjoy the show. If you feel re-inspired by something old wrapped in something new, that is beautiful.

But me? I am not confused about where I stand.

I do not care who uploads the next YouTube clip or who sits on the board. I do however, care about the woman who walked into my gym today with fear in her eyes and arthritis in her knees, hoping for a miracle and for the man who thought he was too far gone to come back.

also, about those cropped shirts

Also, I do care about something else. I care about all the women’s t-shirts on the CrossFit store being cropped. I mean it. I care. I want the rest of the shirt. We trade shirts in CrossFit; that is what we do. But I need the whole thing to do a trade. Nobody wants a half-shirt handshake.

my lane hasn’t shifted

That is my lane.

And that is where the recipe still works.

So before we keep rebranding the revolution, maybe pause long enough to ask:

What are you chasing that you don’t already have?

Because healing still matters. Accessibility still matters. Autonomy still matters.

And that is not something I am willing to forget.

The recipe has not changed. So no, I do not need a new kitchen.

Let us keep doing the work that actually changes lives. And let us not confuse the noise with the mission.

To greg, with gratitude

And to Greg, thank you. I respect you deeply and carry endless gratitude for what you built. You changed my life and the lives of so many others in ways that metrics or medals cannot measure. I listened to every lecture. I carried every lesson. You told me to use what I learned to help others. I did that, and I continue to do it every day.

If I ever have a question or just curiosity about anything in this wild and beautiful space we call CrossFit, I will always continue to reach out. My door is open, and my table has a seat with your name on it. You are welcome here any day, always. I hope your days are full of laughter, peace, and precious time with your kids. All the love in the world, from a Minnesota coach who never forgot the fire you lit, and I never will. …..all my love.