NOVEM Community Fitness
“A space where no one has to defend who they are just to be in the room.”
Novem Community Fitness was founded as CrossFit Novem by Joe Ling and Lesha Vozobule in 2011 in Fishtown, Philadelphia. While the physical space, the leadership, and the membership have evolved, from its inception, we’ve had the mission to be an inclusive space. We have always, and continue to strive to be a place where any person can come in and experience the same workout and know that it’s about more than the box jumps or the burpees. It’s about knowing, testing, and feeling what your body can do, and doing it with others in the class who are cheering you on each step of the way. But while our core mission has always been the same, a lot has changed within it.
From its earliest days, Novem felt different. The goal wasn’t to chase fads or competition—it was to offer fitness for everyone. Everyone. That spirit of inclusivity wasn’t a branded initiative or a DEI checklist—it was organic. It was lived in the leadership and membership, and it wasn’t only about queer inclusion and representation, but a true inclusivity for everyone. Over time, that quiet openness became something louder, more radical, and more beautiful. What started as an open door became a magnet. The community grew, evolved, and began to define itself not just by reps and rounds, but by deep connection and shared purpose. Members gravitated toward one another, creating something that felt rare: a space where queerness wasn’t just tolerated—it’s celebrated.
To Joe, this mission is deeply personal. When he first arrived in the U.S., he didn’t speak English. He got into a fight in his first week of school, defending his sister. That moment cemented something in him: what it means to feel othered, and what it means to belong. Novem, at its core, is about the fight to belong—about creating a space where no one has to defend who they are just to be in the room.
“People have conflicting ideas, and we want to hear them,” says Joe. “But we’re clear on our values: this is a space where every person deserves dignity and respect.”
Fitness is often framed as transformation: lift heavier, run faster, look different. But here at Novem, transformation isn’t just physical. It’s about creating core memories even as adults. That “aha” moment when someone realizes, I belong here. I can do this. I am enough, I’m strong. For LGBTQ+ members, these moments are especially powerful. In a world that often tells us we’re too much, too loud, too different, we’re always trying to be the space to come just as you are and meet you where you’re at that day.
Five years ago? This might have been different. We might have stayed quiet during times of social unrest. But not anymore. “We can’t be silent,” Joe reflects. “We vowed to be loud. To do more instead of watching the world burn.”
That vow has reshaped the way Novem shows up—from amplifying queer voices, to hosting Pride workouts, to making sure that the everyday experience of walking into the gym is affirming, not alienating. Little things become big things. And Novem has never underestimated the power of small acts of care, repeated daily.
The Novem of today is not the CrossFit box of 2011. Even before George Floyd’s murder in 2020 and subsequent comments by CrossFit HQ, Novem had started to grow out of the CrossFit mold. We left the brand behind and doubled down on our mission. Novem became a truly independent space, and that freedom has allowed us to go deeper into what community really means—and who gets to define it. This was only reinforced by the recent unnecessary and transphobic competition policies set out by CrossFit. While the brand has brought the gym into existence, we’ve grown away from it and toward a more inclusive existence.
In today’s political climate, when LGBTQ+ and minority rights are under attack across the country, we want to be a safe space, but not only that, we want to expand outside of the gym. Our gym is made by our members. We are inclusive only because of the members that show up and the coaches that lead our workouts, all of us making sure that the others lifting next to us feel seen, welcomed, and encouraged. And hopefully? Hopefully, that attitude sticks with all of us as we walk out of the gym doors and back into the world. Hopefully, we’re a lens through which people discover their voice, their strength, and their power, not just with a barbell or dumbbells. It’s a reminder that community is built not just by proximity, but by purpose. That when we show up for each other—in squats, in solidarity, in silence-breaking moments of courage—we build something unshakable.
