Someone opened a Crossfit gym next to my house a couple of years ago, which is in a mixed residential-commercial neighborhood. The building is closely surrounde

Someone opened a Crossfit gym next to my house a couple of years ago, which is in a mixed residential-commercial neighborhood. The building is closely surrounded by residences. They operated largely outdoors, they woke me and my neighbors up every morning before dawn yelling and throwing stuff outside, and they kept it up until after dark six days a week. A lot of cops hung out there, and the city PD wouldn't enforce the noise ordinance against them. In a way, I spent 16 hours a day 6 days a week at Crossfit, for a couple of years. It really did seem kind of like a religion or a cult; clearly the owners and the more serious customers had deeply invested their identities in what they were doing, and were seeking approval from one another. I perceived a kind of aloofness or elitism in the way that they valued validation from the in group over the rights and values of their neighbors. I came to recognize many of the customers, some whom were often there 20 or more hours per week. It seemed that one of the core tenets of the religion was that one must always have an audience while working out, if not willing then captive. Cheering, yelling, throwing large objects like tractor tires, and just generally doing everything outdoors, at maximum volume, in a public space, was apparently mandatory. I worked at home for a couple years next to these guys. I could hear them inside my house all day, which they ran laps around in groups, with the leader shouting commands like a drill Sargent. When I worked in garden they were they there, throwing weights – it was required that all weights be thrown forcefully to the ground, in a dominance display accompanied chimpanzee-like shrieks, never merely set down on the pavement. When I retired to my porch for a cup of coffee, they were there, milling around next to my yard taking about their core workouts and protein shakes. So it was almost like I lived at Crossfit for a while. In principle, I love the idea of a community gym. Now and then I would see one of the instructors cheering on a chunky middle aged person lifting weights, and that was so great it almost made up for it. Almost. They moved away last year. My life has become much more pleasant, and I have had several months to reflect on this strange phenomenon. I value health and fitness, and I'm really not just jealous because they were more “swole” then me. For what it's worth, I ran 25 miles and lifted this week, but you probably wouldn't guess by looking at me. I'm not perfect, but I'm pretty much where I want to be with fitness – trying to do my best mostly, and not be nut job about it. But is it really necessary to serve up personal fitness with a double side-order of external validation and group identity? Good health is it's own reward, and when our self image is so narrowly invested in one aspect of our lives, especially appearances, it's easy to overlook other personal growth opportunities. My neighbors muscles were big enough; I think they should have taken a break to work on their personalities. I'd like to close with a joke: “If a Vegan does Crossfit, which one do they talk about first?”