How many young athletes have dreamed of pro ball?
They went to all the camps and captains’ practices. Played in season and off. Joined the travel team.
But most athletes, no matter how fervent their ambition, eventually come to accept the truth: Almost no one who wants to be a professional athlete gets to.
CrossFit changed that.
Not at first, of course.
The Sport of Fitness famously began with a backyard barbecue. Whoever wanted to compete could, and the only expectation was a cold one after the chalk dust settled.
There were a couple dudes with cameras. One made a movie. Some guy live-Tweeted a bit. But no uniforms, no broadcast trucks, no serious prize purse. Well, I mean, I wouldn’t turn down $500, but it certainly wouldn’t pay many bills.
But you know the story. Time went on, athletes got better, and people started noticing.
The Games left the Ranch in 2010 for the Home Depot Center, a professional venue for a not-quite-yet-pro sport. When Reebok signed a 10-year sponsorship deal one year later, things got serious.

The prize purse ballooned to $1 million, with the top man and woman earning $250,000 each (the purse this weekend is just shy of $2 million — first place gets $300,000, and even the last-place finishers this weekend will walk away with $35,000). The sport has been covered by ESPN and CBS Sports.
And for a few years, there was an almost preternatural sweet spot: You might actually be able to go pro.
Former collegiate athlete stars revived the competitive spark, and younger aspiring athletes saw a new path to greatness. True, only a few CrossFit athletes were really making a living on prize and sponsorship money, but the window was still open. Plenty of everyday people with real jobs and ordinary lives competed alongside the superstars at the Regionals and Games.
With dedication and hard work, you too could rise to the top — as long as you never went out with friends, drank more than a beer a week, or stayed up past 10.
I’m sorry to tell you that window has closed.
It’s hard to say exactly when it did.
The early 2010s still saw a few top-five athletes with day jobs. Valerie Voboril took fifth in 2014 while working as a schoolteacher; Julie Foucher took third while in medical school. But there hasn’t been a woman in the top five since who had a full-time career outside of fitness.

The men’s side of the competition saw a few average-Joe upsetters later in the game: Brent Fikowski famously took fourth his rookie year in 2016 while working full time as an accountant, and his fellow Canadian Pat Vellner took third while studying full time. But even Fikowski quit his day job to train for 2019, and the men’s competition hasn’t seen a non-professional champion since 2010.
For some on-the-mat perspective, take a look at Friday’s CrossFit Total event.
When the Total first appeared in competition at the inaugural 2007 CrossFit Games, the win went to Connor Banks with 1,225 lb. and Nicole Dehart with 530 lb. On Friday, Jeffrey Adler lifted 1,244 lb. Tia-Clair Toomey won the event with a total of 890 lb.

That’s just one event in isolation; let’s take a look at some stats. This weekend’s top men and women have deadlifts well into the 500- and 400-lb. ranges. They can do Fran in two minutes or less, can walk the length of a football field on their hands and do all of it in half a day if you asked them to.
It’s not just the skills themselves that are mind-boggling, but the time and effort it takes to gain them. Back in the Froning days, it was almost a quirky fun fact that Rich trained eight hours a day.
Now it’s a necessity.
“So what’s the point?” you say.
Now that I’ve got you thoroughly depressed, I’d remind you that all this is a good thing: It means our sport has evolved.
Would you begrudge the pro football, hockey, or basketball leagues for being unattainable?
I bet you wouldn’t.
I bet you grab a group of friends — or you will, once the pandemic’s over — and gather around the TV to cheer on your favorite team, reminiscing about your best plays.
I bet you still practice the sports you love, not in the hopes to go pro but for the love of the game. For the camaraderie. For the lessons athletics can teach you.
So don’t despair when your local throwdown victory doesn’t lead to a Sanctionals invitation or a supplement-company sponsorship.
Maybe go outside, do a few thrusters, and turn on the grill.
We can’t all be pro athletes, but we can all be CrossFit athletes.

Cover photo by Duke Loren