Elite Fitness or Pointless Pain?

It is a known fact that exercises are addictive. But CrossFitters—those who commit to brutal CrossFit workouts and strict diets—are known for their fanatical commitment to their fitness philosophy. They can be found doing ponderous pull-ups and squats, flipping tires or hitting them with a sledgehammer, climbing ropes, throwing medicine balls and “switching to a paleo diet“The CrossFit movement has been called a sect – even religion – and the popularity of the movement grew rapidly; by 2014 there were 7000 The number of CrossFit-affiliated gyms (or “boxes,” as CrossFit practitioners call them) has increased from just 13 in 2005.

But honestly, the enthusiasm of CrossFit practitioners is nothing up-to-date.

Many fitness enthusiasts are just as fascinated by their own health habits. In his book Crusaders for Fitness: A History of America’s Health ReformersJames C. Wharton describes the “hygiene ideologists” of the 1830s–1920s as people with a high “degree of devotion, asceticism, and zeal” toward the ideals of health and physical fitness. They believed in a vigorous mind and body, physical education, vegetarianism, and often “professed Christianity.”

But in the 1960s Kenneth Cooper developed a up-to-date approach – the idea of ​​“aerobics”, a term he coined in his 1968 book of the same nameAerobics was a more moderate approach to fitness: basic exercises with a point system that aimed to achieve individual fitness goals.

CrossFit combines elements of both approaches—religious devotion combined with goal setting—to create a fitness movement that is bigger, harder, and more ferocious. Apparently. Inherently.

I have written about CrossFit is a fitness fad and I would classify it as an “extreme” example of fitness, such as Shaun T’s Beachbody program. Insanity or even television The Biggest LoserThese fitness approaches rely on diet and exercise, but the expected results are unrealistic and participants adhere to a “no pain, no gain” mentality.

In it a recent article in the New York Times Magazine Heather Havrilesky ponders why Americans are so keen on “extreme fitness.” It’s worth considering. First, extreme fitness perpetuates many myths about masculinity – assumptions that men should be huge, tough, and ambitious – and assumptions about why and how men should exercise.

Second, American fitness movements play to our deeply ingrained insecurities. The pressure for women to be leaner and fitter, and for men to be more muscular and athletic, has driven us to the gym for decades. Extreme fitness often promises better—and faster—results.

But CrossFit stands out from the crowd: Unlike other fitness programs, it emphasizes a combination of community—online and in person—fierce competition, elitism, and even pain. A CrossFit GamesAnnual competitions sponsored by Reebok take this fitness program to the sport level.

Anyone can join CrossFit; women are encouraged to join and train with men and also like them (and interestingly, workouts are named after girlsbecause “anything that made you lay flat on your back, looking up at the sky and asking ‘what happened to me?’ deserved a girl’s name (sic).” But there’s a catch: members must be willing to submit to a community in which the goal is better results, and competition and pain — as much as camaraderie and health — are the means.

Members have access to CrossFit’s extensive online resources and Open source card means that the CrossFit community extends beyond the gym. For example, the Internet provides CrossFitters with a wealth of resources, including the “workout of the day” (“WOD”). Meanwhile, CrossFit Journal is full of articles about the CrossFit vision. These “tools” not only fuel devotion, but also preach ideas of fitness that are narrow, if not risky. More and more numbers CrossFit practitioners have been diagnosed with Rhabdomyolysisa infrequent kidney disease caused by excessive muscle exertion.

CrossFit has also adopted technical language and jargon that seem designed to confuse outsiders, allowing the movement to present itself as unique and superior. CrossFit defines physical fitness as “an increased ability to perform across a wide range of time and modal domains.” Her methods are “revolutionary” and a means to “forge elite physical fitness,” which refers to movement adoption training methods used by top athletes and army special forces.

CrossFit even has its own theoretical “formula”: “CVFM (Continuously Varying Functional Movements) @ HI (High Intensity) + Common Environment = Health.”

With an exercise routine that often causes vomiting – and it even has mascot named “Pukie the Clown”) – we may wonder why CrossFit is so popular. Some say it appeals to something primal in nature. According to CrossFithis “functional” workouts are designed to align with the “fundamental movements of life…” But what’s “built naturally” and what we, as a culture, have created often get blurred. Using biology as an excuse to punish our bodies is counterintuitive.

We can certainly imagine different versions of social fitnessplaces where we can build sustainable practices that improve mind and body fitness?

Movement + Joy + Community = Health?

CrossFit Claims that everyone’s needs, from competitive athletes to housewives to grandparents, are the same, differing only in degree. This movement addresses a specific argument about American fitness that is explored in Women and Fitness in American Culture: the less control we feel over our lives, the more we feel the need to control our bodies. The hypermasculine, super-hard body – the goal of CrossFit – is the ultimate symbol of power, control, and dominance.

This reflects “Hero Training,” the CrossFit website lists U.S. service members who died overseas in Iraq and Afghanistan, along with photos, biographies, and surviving family members. CrossFitters are encouraged to take on these workouts at higher intensity as a way to pay tribute to each of the fallen soldiers “who fight for us to make WOD free.” One page encourages its followers to “think of the Hero who gave everything for our freedom.”

It’s a bit weird (and macabre). Sure, CrossFit has adopted military training techniques, but why are fallen soldiers an inspiration? When snipers, suicide bombers, and drones are instruments of death, and survival in combat often has nothing to do with one’s physical fitness?

Because CrossFit is a chosen way of life as much as it is a training program, its members can close ranks like a cult. Perhaps in this way, the movement can bypass the basic question: why—and for whom—do CrossFitters train?