When we were all beginners
Before we were competitors, we were students.
And before that, we were simply people who were lost, clumsy, dropped into a world that was just being born.
I don't want to start with "back in my day"… also because, in "my day," I certainly didn't leave a mark.
But when I started, the first coaches could barely teach butterfly pull-ups. Let alone muscle-ups.
We learned together.
We from their advice, they from the results – often unpredictable – of our attempts.
Watching the greats from afar
Every day I watched the best. I imitated them, I studied them.
Stefano Migliorini, Martina Barbaro, Mattia Balella, Stefano Italiano.
I watched them from a distance, with an almost religious respect, hoping that one day I could be there too.
Maybe sharing a barbell before stepping into a competition.
Because back then, that's how it was:
you only saw them at competitions.
And that's where you really understood how small you were.
The nutrition jungle
If training was in its infancy, nutrition was total chaos.
There were no guidelines, no literature, no established methods.
You learned by watching videos from America.
I spent hours watching:
- Rich Froning drinking milk and eating peanut butter & jelly between one metcon and the next
- Graham Holmberg with strawberries and eggs in the morning, then almost nothing until evening
- Lucas Parker with endless bacon breakfasts
And I wondered:
what kind of diet is this?
Fads, mistakes and confusion
We tried everything. Literally.
First the Zone diet.
Then Paleo-Zone.
Then just Paleo.
Then someone said gluten slowed you down.
Then the doctors came along:
"CrossFit isn't endurance."
And so everyone went keto.
Then carbs came back.
Then confusion again.
Because in the end someone said:
"A calorie is a calorie."
So what?
Snack cakes or rice, ice cream or potatoes… does it really make a difference?
It was a jungle.
And I crossed it more than once.
Getting lost.
And always finding myself back at the same spot.
The turning point: stopping to understand
At some point I decided to stop.
And I wrote a book.
"300 Invictus".
A little book, yes. But one that took me three years of isolation, study and reflection.
I don't know how much it helped others.
But it helped me enormously.
Because it helped me put things in order.
To understand one simple thing:
human physiology hasn't changed in the last 100 years.
And CrossFit isn't a sport to be improvised.
Eating like athletes, not hobbyists
CrossFit is a complex sport.
It demands energy, recovery, adaptation.
It can't be sustained by passing fads or extreme approaches.
It takes an athlete's diet.
An Olympian's.
Not a "weekend warrior's."
Why I really wrote it
The truth?
I didn't write that book just for myself.
I wrote it because I wanted to leave something behind.
Because I can't do anything without sharing it:
- I don't travel without company
- I don't go to a concert alone
- I don't write without someone to read it
I needed a reader.
We're only just getting started
Fifteen years have passed.
And today we can say it:
we're no longer a niche.
CrossFit has grown.
It has matured.
And it's heading in the right direction.
And if even one person has found clarity in my journey…
then it was worth it.
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