The First Rule of Fit Club

There’s nothing quite like a good workout. Something that gets you out of your seat, gets your heart pumping, your sweat rolling. I’ve always hated it.

I prefer more leisurely activities, such as chilling, or perhaps lounging. I also don’t care for loud noises, strong smells, or existing in public. So you’d think the gym is the kind of place I wouldn’t set foot in. And until around two months ago, I had no intention of proving you wrong.

But the allure of free shit is strong, my friends, and a Crunch Fitness membership recently became part of our company benefits. I wouldn’t say I’m “enjoying” it, but I was surprised how quickly I found stuff to keep me entertained. First and foremost, I like futzing with all the workout machines; it’s fun, in the same way that crank-operated penny crushers at theme parks are fun. I like having to climb a flight of stairs to get to the StairMaster, as if it’s a qualifying round. I like putting on my little gym uniform, complete with badass workout gloves to protect my badass baby hands. I like that there is also a wheelchair lift to the StairMaster for some reason.

So yeah, I guess I kind of like working out now. I don’t think I’m good at it yet—so far, the only thing I’ve lost is my member card. What I’ve gained, however, are insights into the unspoken rules of gym culture. Here are a few:

It is always chest day, every day, for everyone. Want time on a bench? Get in line. Want to use the chest fly machine? May god have mercy on your soul.

Everyone is hotter than you, even the ugly ones. This is because they go to the gym. But hey, so do you! Now your baked potato lookin’ ass has something to aspire to.

You can hit the punching bags just because you’re mad. No one can stop you.

Confusing equipment names like “hip abductor” and “hip adductor” exist to intimidate the weak. But I have a handy trick for telling them apart: The aBductor works the outer hip, closest to your Butt. The aDductor works the inner hip, closest to your, uh, groin.

The “guy who roars like a gorilla at the end of his set” is a salaried position at most gyms. He’s there for atmosphere. Don’t encroach on his livelihood.

Use the wipes. Think about it: You’re sweaty. You’re stinky. You’re sprawled out on this thing that countless other people have sweated and stank upon. And yet, it is neither sweaty nor stinky, because everyone wipes down the seats when they’re done. This is why there are strategically placed wipe dispensers all over the place. There’s no excuse for leaving your booty essence behind.

Long story short, gym culture is not for everyone. You have to decide for yourself whether the convenience is worth the crowd, and whether the community is worth the commute.

But hey, for what I’m paying? I’d say it’s worth every penny.