The fitness world is on fire and it's not a good thing.

I speak metaphorically, of course, about what I've seen and been disgusted by lately. Namely, the useless name calling, posturing, bashing, and overall flamming on fitness sites on the internet. It has been eating away at me for days now, since Friday to be exact, like a drop of acid on a metal table. You know, eventually, it's going to leave a hole.

So the whole thing (no pun intended, but it's kind of funny) starts with an article posted on a web site I read from time to time called T-Nation (note, no link- if you want to find it, find it, but I ain't helping). In the article, actually a collumn, the author calls out and slaps down a site I feel I belong to called CrossFit (again, no link as the flames over there are really quite something and I don't want to fan them). Actually, he says something along the lines of "screw you guys" referring to the whole CF thing. One big dis. Later, he admits that CF only recently shoed up on his radar and that before the NY Times article, he really didn't care. Bullshit.

The guy holds himself out as a well read, well informed, purveyor of all things fitness and he just recently came to hear of CF and Greg Glassman. Somehow, I doubt it. I could be wrong and maybe the author sits in his ivory tower in Colorado Springs and only sees all things bodybuilding, but again, I doubt it. He's far too smart to get away with that assertion. I've read his stuff before; posted comments; appreciated his humor; revelled in his celebration of being a man and brimming with testosterone. This came off as ill-advised and off the cuff. Not his best by far. OK, it was wrongheaded.

This isn't where the story ends, it's where it begins. You see, the fitness community despite its vastness, really is small. The true leaders are few and all are well known. I'd say they are public figures. I'm not speaking of Tony Little or Jack La Lane. I'm talking about coaches who work with athletes, write articles, post on boards, and help the common man. I doubt Tony Little reads his e-mails. Hell, I doubt he reads at all. No, a particular coach was called out for his response because he is a well known member of both communities. Well, here's where the shit storm starts. So, to make a really long story really short, name calling ensues; a flame war begins; asshats from various boards descend on CF like the Allied armies on Normandy; posts are deleted; feelings hurt; shit is stirred (I'm looking at you Bill Fox even though you were not part of this particular bit of internet pissing, I read the Irongarm stuff with shock. . .I expected better, although it means zip to you); and a friendship is crashed upon the rocks. In all, a perfectly good molehill was made into a big stinky mountain of shit. Well done.

I'm not pointing fingers; nor making anyone a martyr. I'm just here to voice my overall displeasure at the total lack of sense this all makes. I'm sure there is blame on both sides although, again, I'm not going to portion that out. I guess what I have to say is I'm saddened by this all. I'm disappointed to find out there's a place on the internet where fitness is a secondary concern to anti-Semitism and misogynistic baits. I'm a little frustrated that most of the responses against CF were nothing more than tough guy posturing by people who neither know, nor want to know what CF is about.

Yeah, I'm a CF guy. I know Greg Glassman; I respect Greg Glasman; I consider Greg a friend. He and his wife have given me immeasurable support and knowledge. I have used the CF ideals and seen them work. Therefore, yes I defend him and his actions. I cannot question his convictions. I find most who criticize his ideas and methods to be ill-informed and their rants as half-baked whines. You don't like the way he operates? Fine, but to call for his murder and rape of his wife? That's just fucking pathetic, and you know it. (I might end up the subject of one of the posts over there at their board and, frankly, I don't care- I don't get their brand of humor or sarcasm or sense or irony or whatever they may call it) Better to criticize his methods with well thought out arguments with evidence to support your claims (right, Bill, the D.A.?) rather than resort to name calling or other schoolyard behaviors (I know he called you a dumbshit, but the context in which he said it makes pretty good sense).

This probably isn't the whole story, but after a good 3 days of reading mostly insipid posts and letting this idea fester, I just decided to get it out of my system. I'm limited by time to write or even care about this further. I want to spend my time on better things, but like a train wreck, I keep looking. Oh, and for all those on the forums I don't post to and won't be reading after this, if you want to, call me a "Moonie" or a Cultfitter, or a "skinny no-nothing fuck;" whatever.
It's a free internet isn't it?


By the way, you would be exactly the second to call me skinny in the past 2 weeks, let alone the past 43 years. I have never been known as "skinny," but I'll take it.

It's been a while, but here's a thought:

I was remembering an old Bugs Bunny cartoon where Bugs gets all upset about not being the #1 most wanted criminal. So, he sets out on a Nationwide rampage to get his ranking up.
He does all kinds of heinous acts and succeeds in raising his criminal stock.

The one thing he does that I was thinking of this week was taking a saw to the border of Florida and the rest of the United States and sets it adrift. This would no longer qualify Bugs as a criminal. It would make him a national fucking hero.

I know there's lots to like about Florida, and I have friends that live there. But, what with kids clubbing the homeless with bats, killing German tourists, rigged elections, hurricane decimation, gasoline hoarding after said decimation, and to top it all off, Disneyworld, it must be said we are better off without the hapless state.

For those of you looking for cheap, warm weather destinations, we still have Hawaii, California, Texas, and Puerto Rico. You'll never miss "The Sunshine State" and its mullet wearing, gator wrasslin, bikini wearing, golf cart driving, election rigging (again with the conspiracy theories), kid shooting, homeless beating denizens.

Think about it. Bugs had the right idea.

Here's how I celebrated New Year's Eve (hereinafter referred to as "NYE"). I went down to our local English pub, The Olde Ship. Now, this is in Fullerton, CA mind you, so don't go thinking I'm in some exotic location in the UK. So, me and my friend, Kurt, meet at the Ship at around 1:15 p.m. Yes, that 1:15 in the afternoon, not 1:15 in the a.m. That would be morning, dumbass.

We arrive at the bar to find it already starting to fill with NYE revelers and we quickly stake our place at the bar, order 2 pints (Imperial pints, the big ones) of J.C. (John Courage, not the other "J.C."), and wait for the fun to begin. Closer to 3:30, the place is starting to get full. To my best estimate, there are somewhere around 100 people crammed into this tiny pub. Finally, closer to 4:00, the place is bursting at the seams. No less than four bartenders are madly trying to keep up with the drink orders as they fly around (mixed drinks, pints, wine, water); the owners pass out party favors; people try desperately to get to the bar; the countdown starts. . .

See, I'm the only one in the joint with a watch that receives its calibration from the Atomic Clock in Colorado Springs, CO, so the owner is looking to me to count it down. Well, with about a minute to go, some yayhoo starts with the 10, 9, 8, 7 bullshit. Fucker. Ruined my moment as the official timepiece. So, at 4:00 p.m., PST, the New Year was rung in by a huge crowd of Brits, Wannabe Brits, and overall bunch of drunks in downtown Fullerton. It was awesome. There was a piper strolling through the joint, I got a full scotch and soda dropped on my leg and all over my shorts, good looking girls used our status as old married farts to come up and flirt their way to the bar to order drinks, and we loved every minute of it.

The best part of the whole day was the fact that once 4:00 hit, the place started clearing out. We left around 4:30. I went home and took a nap.

NYE doesn't get any better, because it normally blows. We're going next year and taking the wives.

So they can drive us home.