Grinding through the final repetition of a new personal record, you release a primal growl, one that causes others to jump. The barbell continues to oscillate as you return it to the squat rack, the red, twenty-five kilogram plates still reeling from their struggle against gravity. Others in your vicinity look onward with the same disgusted, confused look, "Why does he train with such intensity? Why is he so loud? Why can't he find somewhere else to train? He is going to kill himself one day." Raise the black flag, my friend, you are part of the pirate brethren.
When most people think of "pirates" they conjure
images of the 18th century Bahamian pirates, who were, by all
accounts, a close-knit, albeit peculiar, fraternity. Many served freely, rejecting the oppressive
institution that was the British Royal Navy and defying the Hanoverian dynasty
that was ushered into power under George I.
The political conscientiousness of the English and Irish pirates during
this time should not be dismissed; after all the notorious Edward Thatch, i.e. Blackbeard, named his flagship
Queen Anne's Revenge after the fallen British monarch. And while most of the Bahamian pirates were
English or Irish, large numbers of Scots, Frenchmen and Africans – many of whom
were former, escaped or freed slaves – filled their ranks, so did smaller
numbers of Dutch, Danes, Swedes and Native Americans. Adding to the peculiarity, this fraternity
ran their ships democratically, a rebellious idea considering the European
monarchs of this time were "divined by God" to rule their subjects. In another departure from 18th century
ruling practices, the Bahamian pirates elected and deposed of their captains
via popular vote, shared plunder equally and made decisions in open
council. Some historians argue the seeds
of the American Revolution were first planted by the Bahamian pirates, outlaws
who were both feared and revered in North American British colonies.
A similar defiance has long existed at the heart of the
Crossfit culture, bonding members within "the community" irrespective
of external differences. Political,
religious or sexual beliefs fade in the backdrop as the barbell gets heavier,
leaving only the work. Hard work. Lunchpail and hard hat work. "Old Country" work. You, yourself, welcome the opportunity to
train alongside those who shares your commitment to this ideology. It matters not whether the bar weighs 70, 170
or even 270 kilos. The work is the same. You find fulfill in setting personal records –
scribbling the letters "PR" in your training log in shaky handwriting
– but you also enjoy seeing others improve on their previous bests. You cheer for a nascent training partner as
they push through the final repetitions of a twenty-rep-max back squat. All members of an egalitarian society must
share in the work.
Maybe we are "different," us pirates, because we
refuse to play by society's rules. But I
yearn to live in a society where hard work and unconventional thinking are
welcomed, not shunned. Hoist the colors,
my fellow pirates!
