Planet Fitness, proving that exercise doesn’t have to be boring…

I lift, dude. Not big numbers, but I lift. I bench about 1.5 times my body weight, deadlift about twice my body weight for 5 reps. Impressive, but not, cause you see, I am a skinny twerp, but still. I lift big numbers relative to my size. I don’t lift for visual effect or for that vapid douche pump. I lift for the steadying sense of strength it imprints on my psyche. Weight training is as much a mental, as it is a physical, exercise. I don’t lift for others. My “gym” is the small balcony of the condo where I live. No one can see me pumping iron except nosy neighbors across the way, or the occasional walkers-by. I despise commercial gyms and the mentality that accompanies them. I hate sharing barbells and machines and have no patience for the ego sword fights that are endemic to endorphinized ritualistic physical exhilaration. Gyms represent physical training as affectation.

Despite the noxious environment of most gyms, they are useful for those who seek to exercise in a dignified, mindful manner. Not all gyms are bad, and neither are all gym-goers. I hesitate to condemn people who try to assert control of their physicality, especially in today’s gluttonous environment of sloth and added sugar. But Planet Fitness represents another realm of absurd madness.

What is it about Planet Fitness that elicits the most bizarre, histrionic behavior to be witnessed in today’s gym environment?

From the creepily mundane.

 

Not sure if for dry or for enjoyment…

 

To the Berserk Eruptions category of disproportionate reactions.

 

There’s a dominant internet theory that this dude was in the throes of a steroid meltdown, but I don’t believe that. I think he just really believes purple is not a color befitting a serious gymnasium.

Speaking of berserk.

There is another tidbit of Planet Fitness drama. Lacking context, it’s difficult to tell what this madwoman’s “beef” was other than the unpleasant intersection of floor and temper.

For all we know, this woman stormed back to her local Planet Fitness due to the lack of advertised results to greet all her “hard work.” She was unable to get a refund on her annual membership despite there being 11 months left on the contract. Throwing in the towel early, she directed a blast of ire and blame at the nearest fitness instructor, ie, high school flunky salesman for said memberships. We can see clearly that Planet Fitness does not offer hand combat training. Her adiposal flop was painful to watch.

Painful, and magnetic. Like one of those legendary train wrecks.

Warrants a gif. Always.