I'm a traditional sports athlete. I grew up playing soccer, and when I had my growth spurt, my parents let me switch to football. Every sport I've ever competed in has been predicated on winning or losing as a team. When I workout, I go to a Globo Gym. If I dog it during a workout, it's on me, and only me. My successes and failures are entirely on the effort I put forth.

For these reasons, I've never really understood CrossFit. It's just not something that's really resonated with me or my views on what constitutes a sport.

That is, until I started working for FloSports, and was asked to watch the 2016 Reebok CrossFit Games to help with coverage.

I tuned in to the free stream to watch teenagers and adults in far better shape than I've ever been in push themselves past their physical limits to prove they are the fittest people on Earth. The first thing I noticed is every single one of those workouts is built to not only break you down, but also build you up.

'I FINISHED!'

That mattered above everything else. Time and points are obviously important in the grand scheme of the Games, but being able to finish each portion of the competition is an accomplishment in itself.

The Games are set up to find the all-around fittest person, but it's hard for competitors to distance themselves from what makes CrossFit such a tight-knit community that protects itself from those that just don't get it.

I watched as competitors who finished early walk back and motivate their opponents to finish those grueling workouts. At first, I didn't really get it. That kind of sportsmanship is rare in the NFL and NBA. You don't see Lebron James help up defenders after posterizing them--you see him beat his chest. Ray Lewis never helped fallen quarterbacks after delivering massive hits; instead, he danced on top of his grounded opponents.

My Fit Fam

But CrossFit is a different beast. The sport is built in warehouses. Before the creation of the Games, men and women destroyed their bodies in a poorly ventilated garage only to be built back up by their teammates who became an extended family.

I've heard friends talk about their "Fit Fam," and to be honest, it always seemed like a hokey term until I watched the Games for the first time. It's not about winning--you don't win at working out. It's about knowing you pushed yourself beyond your physical and mental limits every day because the man or woman next to you is doing the same thing for the same reason.

At the end of the week, I figured out the CrossFit Games aren't about the sponsorships or prize money. It's about finding out if you can go home knowing you finished and left a piece of yourself on the field.

I don't know if I'll ever end up joining one of the many Austin gyms, but I can say with certainty that I finally get why CrossFit is a sport of the future.