This book very quickly went from boring to offensive. Going into this book I was expecting a history of fitness culture, or at the very least sport. I was misled, as it is more about the history that led to Cross Fit and New Frontier Fitness, with other sports and activities treated like an afterthought. Despite my own misgivings about Cross Fit (and the author's refusal to acknowledge any of its faults), I tried to like the book.
For the majority of the book, I felt that the book was a solid 2.5/5. Despite the author's virtue signaling and self congratulatory attitude, there was some interesting history that was well researched and informative. However, these interesting bits could have been structured better. At times I wondered how someone who wrote for The Paris Review could have such a sloppily structured book, as some sections were so badly lacking transition, it felt like he thought of a few paragraphs and slapped them on the page, making the relevance of the connection known far too late. Other times, I felt he went on tangents for pages that should have been discussed more in their own right in a separate section, such as the brief history of yoga. These errors didn't ruin the book for me, but could have made the history more readable. At times, the history sections were also just downright boring.
What dropped this book to 1 star for me was his last Chapter. No longer boring, the narrative became downright offensive due to the author's insertions of his own opinions. When the author stated on page 270 that "Glassman's own inclusive and the expansive spirit of the online world that he tapped into drove the democratization of fitness in the New Frontier," I chuckled, as early he had associated Cross Fit and the NFF with a diet like his, all grain-free and pasture-raised. How can that be inclusive to those living in a food desert? To the true middle class? But I thought maybe this was an oversight. Especially since the book made some mention of xenophobia, but no history of race in sport.
But then, the author felt the need to double down on early proclamations that Cross Fit, and he, was feminist. In order to prove this, he makes mention of affirmations like "strong is the new skinny," and "traps not tits." Not realizing that promoting one body type at the expense of another is not feminist, he quotes women whose statements drip with internalized misogyny, like Stacy on page 273/274, who attributes her confidence now to her muscles, and not her athletic accomplishments. Or who at the very least, sees such confidence as incompatible with a body that is petite and dainty. Stacy is not the problem, but these false dichotomies are.
The author's offensively inaccurate view of feminism is demonstrated in full on page 276. He writes:
"For as long as I can remember I was attracted to the extremely thin women splashed across billboards and fashion magazines of the eighties and nineties, women who disappear when they turn sideways. It wouldn't be dishonest to say I moved to New York partially for the hordes of model-skinny women available. But that's all I knew. Women with muscles were virtually nonexistent in my world, and so I associated anyone bigger than a bread stick with slovenly corpulence. It was only after being around high-performance women that their muscles came to stand for vitality, vibrancy, health, and therefore for beauty. Now what passes for conventional female beauty strikes my eyes as vitiated, and the soft flesh so many women displays seems weak and, to quote Ronda Rousey... good for nothing."
The author would do well to learn that evaluating a woman's beauty through the male gaze and his own subjective desires of what a woman should be doing in order to attain such a body is decidedly NOT feminist. Also, as a former Division I athlete who had lots of muscles with little "soft flesh" and suffered from so many lost menstrual cycles that I gave myself pre-osteoporosis by age 22, I think the author is more than misguided in his assertion that it's good for nothing. Quoting a female athlete who inspires many doesn't make his views any less problematic.
Most of the time, I had trouble wanting to pick up this book. But for the last chapter, I had trouble keeping myself from throwing the book across the room. And as a side note, I think the author might benefit from talking to athletes outside of NFF, as he seems to be under the impression that other sports don't incorporate functional movements into their training.