I despise gyms. I honestly couldn’t tell you if it is the nauseating funk emanating from dozens of perspiring bodies therein or the mind-numbing beats designed to invoke a kind of catatonic devotion to “pumping it!” that turns me away.
Perhaps it’s that they’re temples where we solemnly gather to sacrifice our dignity at the altar of the impossibly perfect body. Institutes of self-flagellation where pain and misery are instruments to alleviate a societally-instilled guilt that we do...
