Whiteboard Kayfabe, Part 2
Scaling versus skill development.
What happens when you water down warm ups, skimp on skill development, ignore cool downs, and turn your nose up at scaling for bodyweight?
Last week I wrote an article (Part 1) challenging whether or not CrossFit, by its own definitions, tests fitness in its competitive “Games.” This was done by comparing Open Workouts from the past 5 years against CF’s 10 domains of fitness.
Spoiler: CrossFit doesn’t test fitness.
What’s more is that there have been recent rumors (source) that deaffiliated gyms who continue to use CF’s “proprietary methodology” will be litigated against by HQ. That’s quite peculiar since US copyright law explicitly excludes “methodologies” (17 U.S. Code § 102(b)) and CF’s Level 1 Trainer Agreement also explicitly states that “the CrossFit methodology is free.”
This paradox is a proxy for a larger cultural critique where authoritative figures posture much to the chagrin of their originally espoused anti-establishment, open source, and grassroots culture.
Hence, we have arrived at a professional wrestling level of kayfabe — a roleplayed narrative that we all seemingly know is fake and play along with anyway. Except, some people seem to have drunk a “go down with the ship rather than adapt” level of Kool-Aid.
None of which exudes confidence from an organization that’s currently up for sale, but I digress. This is not a business blog, it is a fitness and philosophical one.
So, speaking of methodology lets look at three major potholes I’ve noticed while floating around to different CF gyms over the past few months.
Note (again) that this critique isn’t directed at any particular gym, athlete, or coach; it’s a general observation that I think warrants fair critique and call to action.
The Scaling Kayfabe:
We often hear the tagline “forging elite fitness” as well as the adage “program for the best, scale for the rest.” However, one problem, right off the rip, is that this is the very definition of special pleading.
RX is the “real” workout. The ecosystem at large (HQ) has spent two decades seemingly gaslighting people into believing that if they got injured it’s the athlete’s fault because they didn’t scale correctly.
However, the palpable ethos has always been dopamine-driven high-intensity.
Further, there is a peculiar discrimination in who is allowed to scale, and to what degree — which is directly reflected in how leaderboards are presented (this was also discussed in Part 1 regarding increases in athlete size).
Right from the get-go the term “functional fitness” is weaponized. We scale for everyone — except lightweights — to keep the leaderboard prestigious. If the logic is that “grandma needs to carry her groceries”, why is she using a balanced barbell instead of shifting sandbags or water-filled-tubes? If the logical excuse is that “a real world incident” doesn’t care if you weigh 150 or 250 lbs, why would it care about your biological sex or age either?
So, we scale for age and sex, but not weight, and call that “elite” and “functional?” We have already seen that the outputs on erg machines instead of bodyweight movements is dramatically affected by athletes’ size and limb distribution (source).
Additionally, I searched through several old CrossFit Journal articles (here, here, and here) which only muddied the waters. While the authors seem well intentioned, they also reinforce the hypocrisy we’ve been discussing so far. They also set up the next point on a T.
The Practice Kayfabe:
One of the most perplexing things to me, that has still yet to be explained — and it shouldn’t have to be asked for directly — is when / how do people actually learn the skills and movements that will be tested?
If every session is a test of capacity or throughput, when are mechanics built? Real sports aren’t trying to “get better” by testing themselves with game-speed scrimmages every practice. They’re building skills.
What’s more is that many CF gyms only offer CF classes, which means there are very few that offer “open gym” times. You know, like when you can go to the place you’re paying a membership at and actually work on the things you want to improve instead of doing what you’re told or what HQ publishes for the day(!).
In the above linked CF Journal articles there’s still no mention of “practice”, just a rhetorical distinction between “adapting” and “scaling” that doesn’t actually describe how athletes adapt and progress.
What’s more is that the original methodology publication came out in 2003, long before the term “hybrid athlete” was a thing. Yet, it hits all the high notes and still has the same glaring omissions 23 years later.
Focusing on 3 modalities — gymnastics (mobility), weightlifting (power), and mono-structural conditioning (endurance) — is actually pretty good on the surface.
In the outlined 3-week sample, there are 6 single-modality sessions. The problem here is that that means across 3 weeks of training, and 15 training sessions, you will only have worked on the “skill” or “element priority” of each modality twice.
This begs some very important programming questions:
Exactly what are your expectations when you’re only practicing something twice every three weeks?
The even distribution of all elements assumes that I’m equally proficient / deficient in all of them, an assumption that belies infinite hubris.
In the same 3-week span we’re training “2 element days” where “work/rest interval management is critical” 6 times. That means we’re spending almost 3 times as many sessions practicing getting tired as we are getting better.
On top of, and within, each of those problems is the fact that entire “modalities” are conglomerates of dozens of movement patterns (exercises). What if my rope climbs are fine, but my handstands are struggling? How long do I have to wait for a single modality skill session to be dealt from HQ to work on the things I actually need?
The Warm Up Kayfabe:
I’ve written a lot before about active recovery and “the lost art of long warm ups”, and both are relevant here. What I’ve notice about CrossFit warm ups is that usually they’re technically sound — that is, the warm up movements are relevant to the working movements.
However, my experience has been that there is a marginal aerobic component to the warm up, and overall volume is largely inadequate. The shorter, more intense, and more specific a “work” interval is, the longer and more specific the warm up needs to be.
In a 2-hour endurance block, you’ve got time to spare and can get away with a bit of a whimsical warm up (though you ought to be intentional about it) because the first 15 minutes are only 12% of the whole session.
By contrast, if you’re going to haul ass for a 15 minute AMRAP, and you haven’t even broken a sweat before starting “the work”, you’re going to waste at least the first 5 minutes calibrating your CNS — if not be on the fast track to injury.
To warm up for that, if I were writing the session, there would probably be 15 minutes of easy aerobic work and another 15 minutes of specific mobility or a “not for time” series to find your working load / pace for the day.
I will say again, that some gyms / coaches do a much better job of managing this than others; though it’s a ubiquitous trend I’ve notice, albeit to varying degrees.
On the other side of this equation, cooldowns or auxiliary work — often noted as “support” segments in my programming — is even less strictly enforced. Sometimes it’s actively avoided. This is unfortunate, because recovery is where you get stronger. Adaptation starts after the stimulus stops.
This means that you don’t have to wait until you eat or sleep to start recovering (e.g. getting stronger / faster / etc.). Learning to down regulate your CNS — especially after a hard capacity interval — is a literal cheat code that’s getting left on the table.
Full Circle:
As Dan John says, “chase two rabbits, go home hungry.” Or, more directly, you can’t ride two horses with one ass. Unless you’re a complete novice, trying to get better at everything all at once is a surefire way to make sure you, in fact, do NOT improve, and in all likelihood regress.
It’s a fair counterpoint that “varied” stimuli doesn’t necessarily mean “random”; though that’s a highly discretionary programming difference — one that is overlooked by many coaches and highlights the main takeaway:
“You cannot dramatically improve a weakness with accidental exposure (source).”
Many people have suggested that the “best way to improve for Hyrox is to join a CrossFit gym.” However accurate this may be, it is another foot-in-mouth moment.
That assertion implies that you do not get better at Hyrox just by doing more Hyrox races. Why, then, would we assume that you get better at WODs just by doing more WODs?
To further this point, consider the (necessary) neuroticism around movement standards. Obviously quality matters. Equally, it’s an athlete’s responsibility (in any sport) to manipulate the rules of engagement to their advantage — and win.
Therein lies the faultline. Always trying to “win” inevitably means that corners get cut, quality drifts, and athletes get sharp, but brittle — combat sports athletes inevitably learn this lesson the hard way. How “elite” is our fitness if we’re just teaching people how to get beat up and broken?
Have we not, then, regressed back on the “Sickness → Wellness → Fitness” spectrum (CrossFit, 2002)? I thought we were supposed to knuckle up and “Fuck the quick fix?”
The meta-to-the-meta here is that I’m not judging an organization based on 20+ year old publications. There’s plenty I’ve misstated or change my mind about buried in the archives of this site — but you’ll also find plenty of articles detailing the progressions I’ve made along the way.
What I want to be clearly critical of is:
Public stances that contradict reality. CrossFit still wants to wear the “elite” brand and claim the pinnacle of fitness. But, the organization has been for sale since 2020 and in that same time has lost more than 30% of its affiliates.
Stagnation and refusal to adapt. If you’re still using the same training protocols from a decade ago and haven’t changed anything, you’re missing quite a bit. If you stretch that to more than two decades, you’re willfully ignorant.
You reap what you sow. Weeds will be there no matter what, so you better water the fucking flowers you want to grow.
The Integrated Fitness Problem
I’ve created a 12-month program to develop general physical preparedness (GPP) and grappling (BJJ) specific conditioning. However, this isn’t just another PDF fitness program or 30-day or 90-day challenge. This is a call-to-action for you to invest in choosing your own adventure. It’s an invitation to move how you feel and feel how you move. The overlap between our physical and emotional states has a lot to teach us about how we move outwardly and feel inwardly.




