Oh, okay, we’re a cult. Uncle. Here’s a picture of our cult leader at one of our cult meetings, something called the CrossFit Games. You caught us.
We’re the Cult of Pull-ups/Awesome Booty. The Cult of Deadlifting Strong Women. The Cult of Functional Fitness doesn’t sound sexy, so we’ll go with the Cult of We Get Sh** Done Fast. The Cult of My Whole Life Got Better.
That’s okay. People can call us anything they want as long as they still want to be us. We keep getting loads of results and changing lives and creating jobs so we must be doing something right. Besides, names roll right off like sweat during the WOD. Insert another simile or metaphor or cliche here, we’re ready.
But if we’re going to be a cult, I don’t want any sister wives or flowing robes. Not my style. Let’s have a Cult Throwdown instead. Us Vs. the Hare Krishnas. Call the Moonies too. Let’s see who the Fittest Cult is. We pick two movements, they each pick two. I’m going with Front Squats. Maybe followed by target shooting. Because if we really are a cult, we need more guns (besides the ones on my body, baby! Ha!) Lots more guns. I’m going to WOD and stock up on some ammo. Who’s with me? We might need some ATVs too. Anybody got a woodsy compound?