A Loss of Spark

I feel it is incumbent upon me to offer a preface to my message. Were it not for CrossFit, my life would certainly be on a different course. I would not have met so many astounding people. I would not have met my wife, and would not have my two children or a third in transit. I would not have had a secondary source of income while I wandered my way through a number of careers. It is, in fact, coaching at CrossFit gyms that led me to my career in education. Finally, were it not for CrossFit, I would have not found an outlet and methodology to fuel and cultivate my competitive passion.

Competition is what has compelled me to write this message. Competition is what steered me away from bars and bicep curls. It cemented me in a community that was ripe with ambitious people. People eager to foster their own success, as well as the success of others, regardless of the metric.

This will be my 9th year with the CrossFit Open, and my 10th year as a competitor in the CrossFit Games. I’ve been a CrossFit coach for over 8 years. I can still recall the days of yore, watching Josh Everett complete an AMRAP of Shoulder to Overhead at 155 pounds at the 2010 California Regional in Irvine. I remember watching the woman I would marry, compete at the first CrossFit Games in Carson in 2011, and watching her team finish 6th at the Games in 2012.

Each of these memories was built in the relationships borne along the way. Relationships made with gym members, and coaches and athletes from other gyms. The “backyard bbq” camaraderie flourished throughout the weekends of Regionals and the Games. On the floor, there was killer instinct. Off of it, were hugs and cries and congratulations. Everyone knew each other. They had seen one another at local competitions. They had shared throwdown weekends when boxes chose to host each other for fun. The organic bonds that grew out of the competitive roots of the CrossFit Games are the hallmark of my fondness for “this thing we do,” as a friend of mine likes to say.

But, in the past 18 months, my perspective has changed. I underwent a serious surgery that pulled me out of the Open last year. I got to play the exclusive role of coach, while I recovered. I got to see the volume of competitors that were welcomed to regionals (the playoffs as I like to lovingly consider them) shrink. Regions were combined, invitation numbers reduced, and the size of teams, abbreviated. Of course, I selfishly considered the impact to my own Regionals hopes. But, as the announcements of media team layoffs and the eventual beheading of the entire Regionals process made their way before my eyes, I considered other impacts. The days of regular human beings, with careers and families, competing and building friendships with one another, have all but passed.

It is the responsibility of CrossFit to ensure the world’s best end up on the stage in Madison, or wherever the next venue may be. Those that have dedicated their lives to the “Sport of Fitness” deserve such an opportunity. However, were it not for the “backyard BBQ” that Dave and his friends built back in 2007, would that stage exist?

All grassroots sports that experience explosive success are forced into change. Those changes will elicit a response from the communities that fostered their success. Not all of those responses will be positive. But, to see those communities draw away from the fold by nearly one third in one competition cycle, feels like more than a standard backlash.

I've come to the notion that these communities feel as though their local racehorses have been disenfranchised. The sport they built, has been moved beyond their reach. Each year, as I've watched footage of daily recaps from each of the Regionals, I could identify the names of dozens of competitors I had seen throughout the years. I would see Instagram videos posted by mothers, fathers, siblings or friends, cheering for THEIR athletes along the barricades of the arenas. They had people to support. They were returning the favor for someone that had cheered them through the Open. With Regionals the way of the Do-Do, and the volume and location of Sanctional events quite limited, where and when can these fans cheer? And, for whom?

CrossFit has become a professional sport. It is no longer the “backyard BBQ” of its roots. To think that people of all walks would continue to earn the opportunity to compete on the international stage indefinitely, would be a farce. As the level of competition has elevated beyond that of many people’s dreams, the parameters have been altered accordingly. But, I can not recall a similar instance where a sport eliminated the playoff segment of its season. The search for the “Fittest on Earth” does not have to be the shortest distance between two points. But, it feels as though it is devolving into such contest. The “CrossFit Open” is intended to encourage as many as possible to test themselves. However, even some of the world’s top competitors have opted out, in lieu of other competitions offering a simpler route to the elusive CrossFit Games. Changes to the benchmark of CrossFit’s community competition should be intended to promote continued growth in participation. It would appear the changes brought about in recent months have not met that target. At last measure, CrossFit Open registration was down 32% worldwide.

It is Sunday afternoon, and I still do not know if I will do the Crossfit Open this year. I have received pressure from a number of friends to “just do it." I might do it, I might not. But, I know that the spark that has glowed in me for the CrossFit Games, and "Open Season," has dwindled. I hope I can find a way to bring it back.