Since my first WOD three years ago, I’ve been head over heels for CrossFit—or, more appropriately, toes over bar.
During my time coaching, competing, writing about, and (lol, hate me) dating within the sport, I’ve come to identify the seven main types of CrossFit guys. With varying degrees of muscle mass, likability, intellect, spacial awareness, and sex appeal, these are the dudes and duds you’ll find at almost every box.
The CrossFit Douche
Decked from head to Nobull Lifter-clad toe in the most stereotypical gear (Born Primitive, Virus, Donuts & Deadlifts, Wags & Weights, etc.), the CrossFit Douche is a good CrossFitter. Just not as good as he thinks he is.
Usually a washed-up college athlete, the CrossFit Douche is an incessant yapper, spewing an unending stream of noise. He’s constantly wagering bets with other athletes, boasting about his recent JT time, and chirping (read: verbally degrading) his friends, crushes, and enemies alike. When he loses, he spits out excuses like a malfunctioning fire hydrant. When he wins—which he does on occasion—he woos like a hiyana. (Think: Ric Flair). Also: he’s definitely slept with at least three (current) members at the box.
The Magnet
Just as naturally talented in the sport of functional fitness as he is with the ladies, the Magnet is well, magnetic. This guy shows up, dabs his hellos, puts in the work (probably taking of his shirt, because wow, does it get hot), flirts, and leaves. Everyone from the Coach to the Newbie to the CrossFit Mom loves this CrossFitter’s even-keeled, kind, and flirty personality. In fact, the only person repelled by the Magnet is the CrossFit Douche. Obviously.
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Sure, he’s been known to send a questionable “What’re you up tonight?” text in the wee hours of the morn to one (or three) of the Box Babes, but he’s got such Good Guy Energy nobody would think to call him a sleeze.
The CrossFit Nerd
Wanna know what CrossFit Open Workout 13.1 was, what Mat Fraser could squat snatch in December 2012, or who podiumed in 2014? Ask this guy. He knows every CrossFit Games Athlete since 2007 better than Greg Glassman. He has conspiracy theories up the wazoo about who’s juicing. And during Open Season he pours over the Leaderboard (not necessarily because he cares about his rank), but because he wants to check-in on his fave athletes.
The Morning Chalk Up is his home screen, and he book-clubbed Chasing Excellence. He’s listened to every episode of The Whoop, Ben Burgenon, and Marcus Filly podcast. He also owns a Whoop (duh). Another thing about the CrossFit Nerd: he’s committed to mental and emotional gains as he is to physical ones.
The CrossFit Daddy
An exceptionally average athlete, it’s not his gymnastiness, lifting feats, or engine that makes the CrossFit Daddy, well, a Daddy. And it’s not because he has kids, either (though he usually does). This guy’s a Daddy because he’s an attractive man of a slightly older age.
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Don’t read it wrong, The CrossFit Daddy isn’t just hot. He’s also genuinely nice, supportive, and tattooed. To the chagrin of all the box’s Singles™, the CrossFit Daddy is often (happily! And loyally!) married to a lean-legged pilates guru.
The Space Cadet
If you were to rally your entire gym for a friendly game of fuck-marry-kill, this is the guy the populace would axe. Not because he’s evil—he’s actually not a bad person, per se. But because he is a straight up safety hazard.
He regularly airbornes barbells with less than 95 pounds on them (the negligence!), he looks like a rag doll doing dumbbell snatches and kettlebell swings, and still doesn’t know the difference between a clean, squat snatch, bench press, or push press. Put simply: The Space Cadet has no spacial awareness or body control and should be required to work out in a helmet and hazmat suit.
The Big Mac
CrossFit may be all about mastery in nine different domains of fitness, but this big boy is a master of one: strength. He’s got the biggest (ahem) deadlift at the box, shockingly good mobility, and The Grateful Dead and Aerosmith are his pump up jams.
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He’s the one moaning and groaning like a lady in labor during Fran and Diane—though, to his credit, he still did it—and after class he the one at the local pug downing a (Paleo) burger doused in ketchup and toasting with a lager.
The Military Meathead
Every box has at least a handful of veterans or active duty personnel, who carry themselves with equal parts poise, purpose, and power. Often spotted right when the box opens or is about to close, these well-respected muscle nuggets tend not to take class.
Instead, they go off to the side, pop their heavy-duty headphones in, put their heads down, and do some brutal workout of their own making. Unpartitioned Murph? Vested Double DT? Double-Vested Chad? The Military Meathead has done it. The biggest swerve about this guy? He houses Fitaid.
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