I wish it was not so, but I hate the gym. Theoretically, I love it and what it represents; An efficient way to exorcise and strengthen my health. But often while I’m battling weights and cables and ropes diligently complying with my trainer’s instructions I think to myself,
Ah, the gym and the Spanish Inquisition―two notorious institutions, worlds apart yet oddly similar in their capacity to strike fear, hate, and pain into the hearts and bodies of many.
I had a very nice trainer. You know the kind, handsome with an enviable body and a pleasant supportive demeanor but every week without fail and with the conviction of a holy exercise enforcer clearly a descendant of one of those zealous inquisitors he tortures me and demands that I ‘believe’ in the sanctity of super sets, nutrition affirmations and other things that a ‘good for me’. Twelve reps easily become 14… “give me one more…one more…” 1, 2, 3, 3, 3, 4 seems to be how he was thought to count… He like his fellow inquisitors, clad in their tight workout gear, stride around the gym floor, eyes scanning for “sins” committed by innocent gym-goers. With their unwavering gaze and strict instructions, they unleash exercises like medieval torture devices, leaving us gasping for breath and praying for mercy.
The Spanish Inquisition, for those who like more information, was infamous for its cruelty, torture devices, and relentlessness in converting people to the ‘one true faith’. Spreading fear is not unlike the sweat-inducing trials of the gym. Just as the inquisitors aim to extract confessions, the gym aims to extract perspiration from every pore of your body. While the Spanish Inquisition may have used hot irons, stretchers, and spiked binders the gym employs an array of similar treadmills, weights, and other instruments to stretch you out, compress you, or keep you in pain, sprawled and in a constant state of sweat production.
This torturous Workout Regimen promoting more Pain, (and often less gain) is for many of us mere mortals a place that somehow manages to make us feel worse than when we first walked through its hallowed doors. While the Spanish Inquisition sought to “reform” individuals through pain, the gym promises a transformation through exercise so yes, also pain.
As we struggle to complete that last rep or run that extra mile, we wonder if the pain is truly worth the elusive gains.
Gym trainers, like their inquisitor counterparts, often have an air of authority that makes us cower in our sneakers. They demand perfection, correct our form with military precision, and expect nothing short of absolute dedication. Their critical gazes seem to penetrate our souls, making us question our every squat, lunge, and bicep curl not to mention what we ate today? It’s as if they hold the key to the gates of fitness heaven, and we’re desperately trying to earn our place.
Covered in sweat, tears, Lycra, and exercise tech devices this comedic form of torture seems to be never-ending.
Perhaps, at the end of the day, in desperation is the best approach is to find some joy in the journey. Embrace the occasional embarrassment, and maybe even convert and believe in the ineffable eternal benefit of the ‘well-earned’ muscle soreness!
So, next time you find yourself caught between the gym and the Spanish Inquisition, remember to laugh, sweat it out, and revel in the absurdity of it all. Channel your anger to push through one more set and resist the brainwashing. That said remember – they won’t convert you! Stick to your own belief. Defy them, makes it just a little bit easier to bear that way.
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This Post is republished on Medium.
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Photo credit: iStock
