The worst thing about my new gym is all the mirrors. They line every wall, so I can’t ignore the contrast between my reflection and everyone else’s. I look small, soft, and uncertain, and I’m wearing clothes better suited to hiking than lifting. Everyone seems ripped and confident, pumping iron in skintight tanks.
I’d always subscribed to the “mountains are my gym” model of physical fitness, but after moving to a city recently, it became harder to stay fit by outdoor activity alone. The obvious solution was a gym membership, so I proposed a 30-day workout experiment to my editor. At the very least, I figured, I’d get in shape ahead of ski season for once.
I found an option that’s a 13-minute walk from my apartment and emailed Todd, the owner, to share my story: I’ve never belonged to a gym that didn’t have a yoga studio or climbing wall, and I’ve definitely never lifted weights, but I want to try. We agreed on a month of personal training: three sessions per week. Combined with the membership fees, it cost almost three-quarters of my rent. That reminded me why I’d never done this before, and it made me resent my high school PE teacher for not covering the weight-training basics.
On day one, I meet Todd at the front desk early in the morning. He offered…
