YOUR TRAINING CANNOT SAVE YOU

I hefted the box off of the rollers. More boxes streamed down, the cardboard flowing over the plastic, and in the closed space of the trailer it sounded like rain.

The box was an irreg - long and narrow, shiny in the orange light of the lamp at the entrance. The picture on it showed a curl bar, a kind of barbell with kinks for gripping and emphasizing the biceps.

I stared at the handles, envying their knurling, imagined the luxury of friction digging into my palm. Then I clenched my grip around the smooth, hard, angular surface, and tried not to drop it.

*

Originally I had in mind to write an angry letter to Crossfit. It was going to be about how much fun it could be, how hybrid training truly does make sense and how awesome it is. And then I was going to rant about how Crossfit couldn't save you; how you could learn to do seven hundred push ups and deadlift until you died, and how none of that actually translated to the real world of lifting struggling things with no handles.

Seriously, bro, where are the handles on your uniform?

I learned, in doing a little cursory research, that Crossfit actually does have the power to program for Strongman-type workouts, the one kind of training that probably translates the most into real world strength. Which forced me, then, to sit back and think about what my problem was.

The temptation remains to blame Crossfit. It's a target, and for sure, the fact that they can program for strongman work doesn't mean that they are. For that matter, the fact that they're known for olympic lifts and broken gymnastics only serves to cement my point. An outfit that talks all about preparing for the real world that doesn't teach how to use that preparation in the real world isn't really doing anything other than getting you jack'd and rip'd and looking good naked while charging you lots and lots of money.

Which is their right, of course.

But in thinking about the problem, I'm forced to concede that this is way bigger than just Crossfit. This is something that applies to the industry at large. Doesn't matter if you're at Planet Fitness or Gold's Gym or your local powerlifter's dungeon or wherever. I've been in all those places, and not a single blessed one has ever really prepared me for doing the things I needed to do when I needed to do them.

Being prepared for the real world is so much more than WODs and various bells. And I think that, whatever way you use to train, you ultimately owe it to yourself to spice it up with real world work.

But to tell you the truth, I don't really know what that means. My temptation is to prescribe odd-object training as a cure-all - lifting sandbags and Atlas Stones and such. But honestly? Those aren't perfect answers.

Maybe the only real way to develop real strength is to go out into the real world. Shovel your driveway. Walk barefoot in the woods and find a heavy stone to carry. Play with your children. Wrestle your spouse.

The bottom line is this, folks: you can't just train in your gym and then leave your training there. You have to find ways to carry it and express it, as much as you can.

Otherwise, what the hell's the point?