Welcome to a place where encouragement meets action—Delupik brings you approachable, down-to-earth guidance for mastering the basics of crossfit, all in an environment that feels more like a community than a classroom. I’ve seen firsthand how much a little support can spark real progress, and with Delupik leading the charge, you’ll find not just solid instruction, but a friendly space to move, learn, and grow at your own pace.
When we teach the basics of CrossFit—air squats, deadlifts, the strict press—there’s this dance between structure and curiosity that shapes every session. We believe in clear progressions; there’s no skipping the fundamentals, especially when someone’s never held a barbell before. But here’s the thing: within that framework, we make room for a bit of wandering. Sometimes a beginner’s quirky question about “Why does my back want to round here?” leads to a tangent on bracing mechanics, or even a spontaneous PVC pipe demo. The point is, we don’t treat the pathway as a rigid track but more like a well-trodden trail with side paths worth exploring. I remember one early morning class where someone, fresh from a rock climbing background, instinctively shifted their weight in the squat—different than I’d usually cue, but it sparked this whole conversation about posterior chain engagement and crossover skills. That sort of interplay, between what we plan and what actually unfolds, is where real learning happens. Of course, there’s always this subtle tug-of-war between challenge and support. Push too hard, and frustration wins; make it too easy, and you’re just going through motions. We try to hit that sweet spot—where the wall ball feels just heavy enough to demand focus, but not so daunting that people dread picking it up. And honestly, it’s not a perfect science. Some days, a new athlete needs the safety net of a box for their squats. Other days, they’re ready to go a little deeper, a little heavier. We watch, we listen, we adapt. The environment matters, too. There’s a palpable difference between the nervous energy of someone’s first ever AMRAP and the quiet confidence of a returning member nailing their first unbroken set of double-unders (which, let’s be honest, always feels like unlocking a secret level in a video game). Now, translating theory into movement—this is where things get interesting, and occasionally messy. You can talk about hip hinge mechanics till you’re blue in the face, but the first time someone tries to deadlift, some detail gets lost in the translation from mind to muscle. We rely on analogies (“Imagine you’re closing a car door with your hip”), tactile cues, and sometimes, just giving people space to experiment. Most folks don’t internalize the difference between lumbar extension and flexion because they read it in a textbook. They learn it when their hamstrings remind them the next morning. And yet, that underlying knowledge—how a neutral spine protects you, why we care about full range of motion—anchors the whole process. There’s no shortcut around that, but there’s also no single route. Our philosophy is messy, a bit improvisational, but in my experience, that’s what makes it stick.
Get StartedDelupik organizes its educational options to match different learning styles and goals—some folks want steady support, others prefer more independence. And, honestly, it’s a bit like picking out a new backpack: what works for you might be totally different from what fits your friend. In my experience, flexibility makes all the difference when you’re trying to learn something new. So, whether you’re looking for just the basics or something a bit more involved, you’ll find a plan that fits your approach. Find the perfect balance of features and value in our offerings:
Honestly, the main draw of the Growth tier is the regular feedback—it’s not just generic tips, but stuff based on videos you send in. That’s where most people see the shift from “I think I’m moving right” to actually knowing what to fix. And yeah, you’re expected to record yourself and be a bit vulnerable, but it’s less awkward than it sounds, especially after the first round or two. You’ll also get a structured progression plan, which is fine, but it’s the feedback loop that really moves the needle. For some, the time commitment can feel a bit much during busy weeks, but if you want more than just following random YouTube tutorials, this is a good middle ground. I should mention—one guy in my group started noticing his squat form improved way before his pull-ups did. Sometimes progress is uneven, and that’s just how it goes. So, if you’re willing to put yourself out there a bit and want feedback that actually relates to your own movement patterns, Growth makes sense. It’s not for those who want to stay invisible, but I’ve seen it click for people who need a nudge and some accountability.
800 $Starting with what most people notice first—the “Intro” level is deliberately slow-paced, almost intentionally so, which lets nervous beginners breathe a little. The folks who stick here often want explanations repeated, sometimes more than once, and that’s actually fine; we spend extra time clarifying the “why” behind each position, not just the how. There’s less pressure to perform and more room for questions, even the ones about shoes or grip that might seem off-topic elsewhere. And yes, the warm-ups are a bit longer than necessary—part tradition, part just making sure nobody gets left behind. I’ve found that people at this stage appreciate when coaches remember small details, like which wrist they tape, far more than they care about technical jargon.
500 $The real standout here? One-on-one movement feedback—nothing beats having someone watch your squat and point out the tiny things you’re missing. You get this every week with Premium, which honestly helps you break through nagging plateaus that group classes just skim past. Plus, there’s the fast-turnaround video analysis. Sometimes it’s just a quick voice note, other times a full annotated clip, but you see exactly what’s working and what isn’t, in your own body. You’re putting in a bit more money and a little extra time recording your workouts, of course. Not everyone can swing that, or wants to share their lifts on camera. But if you’re serious about finally nailing that strict pull-up or cleaning up your snatch, this tier gives you more direct help than you’d ever get from a standard program. I’ve seen people finally get their first handstand push-up after months of frustration—sometimes it’s just one small cue that finally clicks.
580 $The “Elite” format really stands out for folks who crave more than just standard instruction—they’re willing to bring extra focus and, honestly, put a bit more skin in the game. What they give, aside from the higher fee, is a stronger commitment: showing up consistently, being genuinely open to real-time feedback, and sometimes even staying late to fine-tune a particularly stubborn movement (the double-under comes to mind—people either curse it or love it). In return? The most immediate difference is hands-on coaching—sessions that aren’t rushed, so corrections actually stick. And, maybe even more important, there’s that ongoing sense of accountability; when someone’s watching your progress this closely, it’s hard to coast or hide on your weaker days. I’ve seen participants in this tier surprised at how quickly plateaus melt away, especially when a coach calls out a tiny flaw in their squat that no one’s ever bothered to mention before. That personal attention—honestly, it can feel a bit exposing at first, but it’s usually what makes the “Elite” route a no-brainer for folks who want their foundational movements to actually hold up under pressure, not just look good in a warm-up. If you’re the type who wants your deadlift to feel as reliable in week eight as it did on day one, this tier just makes sense.
730 $Online research ethics awareness
Improved utilization of virtual learning management systems
Increased proficiency in online teamwork
Greater online etiquette awareness
Learning new skills is a lot like rebuilding an old bike—sometimes you need to get your hands a little dirty, and the right teacher can make all the difference. I’ve always believed that the best lessons stick when they’re practical, a little unconventional, and maybe even fun. That’s what made me do a double take when I first heard about a place called Delupik, where CrossFit basics are taught in a way that honestly feels less like a bootcamp and more like a community workshop—think less yelling, more encouragement, and a surprising amount of laughter between reps. What sets them apart isn’t just their approachability, though. Their teaching methods are hands-on, with real-time feedback and a knack for breaking down movements so even total beginners (like me, once upon a time) can catch on without feeling lost. They use top-quality gear—no creaky barbells or worn-out mats here—which somehow makes push-ups feel a bit less daunting. And their trainers? They’re the kind who remember your name and genuinely care if your squat form is off. I’ve come away from a session not just sweaty, but actually excited to come back. That’s rare.
Great educational leadership always feels a bit like coaching—knowing when to push, when to listen, and when to just let people try things for themselves. I’ve seen firsthand how genuine passion, paired with just enough humility to admit you don’t know it all, draws people in and keeps them learning. That’s what caught my attention about Sandra and her journey with Delupik. She’s not just another entrepreneur with a business plan; she’s a certified CrossFit Level 2 Trainer, yes, but she’s also one of those rare people who can break down a burpee for a total beginner without making them feel like a lost cause. And that, honestly, is harder than it looks. Sandra’s vision for Delupik is rooted in the idea that fitness—like any learning—should be accessible, practical, and a bit fun, even when it’s tough. Her background, a blend of sports science studies and years coaching at local gyms, seeps into every lesson the company delivers. You’ll notice it in the way classes are paced, in the small cues she gives about form, or the way encouragement is woven into the feedback. She’s aiming for more than just ticking off technical boxes; she wants people to build confidence, little by little, until the basics don’t feel intimidating anymore. And if you ask her, she’ll probably tell you that the best part of her job is seeing someone nail their first squat or pull-up—because that’s where real progress begins.
When someone stumbles into Delupik looking to untangle the basics of a squat or deadlift, Janiyah’s usually the first one they find—sometimes with chalk dust on her hands, shoes kicked off, a whiteboard marker behind one ear. She’s got this habit of asking, mid-demonstration, “What’s your body trying to tell you right now?”—and the question hangs there, making people actually listen to their own movement for a change. Her explanations zigzag, connecting a kettlebell swing to balance in everyday life, or comparing the rhythm of a burpee to jazz improvisation (yes, really), and suddenly students are grinning at the weird sense that it all sort of fits together. She’s no stranger to the grind herself—years bouncing between teaching early-morning classes and squeezing in training sessions at odd hours shaped the way she reads the room, guessing when someone’s frustration is more about fear than technique. There’s a photo taped to her desk of her first coach, faded and half-obscured by a sticky note that just says “ask why”—students say it’s that restless curiosity, plus her habit of swapping ideas with folks from nutrition, dance, and even the art department, that keeps her lessons unpredictable and oddly sticky long after the soreness wears off.
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