archetyping at the gym
by guest contributor Joe Enabnit
The gym is a morally neutral object. Contrary to right wing meme culture, there is nothing inherently moral about a man with a sick physique or a big deadlift. From Zyzz, the 21st century Icarus who flew too close to the s(a)un(a), to the never ending supply of Tren fueled massage parlour patrons on Reddit, the gym has no shortage of bloated up, horny degenerates.
The USPA, the second largest powerlifting federation in America, recently fired many senior officials after reports of sexual harassment and inappropriate photos running rampant at meets. Gloss over Goob_U’s Instagram to see hundreds of narcissistic influencers exposed for editing their photos to portray a false image of their physique. Most of these people are already big and strong and ripped, but they still lie in order to even further obscure the reality behind the photo (and the physique)–clearly the gym didn’t eliminate their character flaws.
None of this is to say that the gym is immoral or leads to immorality. The gym is a tool, like a hammer. It can be used to commit horrible crimes, or it can be neglected and left to rust. But in between these extremes there is an ordered, Aristotelian Mean by which the gym can be fruitful and fulfilling without creating monsters.
Let us explore four archetypes of the gym. If you have been to a gym, you have seen at least three of them. The individuals you see in real life may be reflected in part or in full in these archetypes, which are platonic and live in the realm of Forms. They are the Iron Addict, the Bougie Biohacker, the Aesthetic Samurai, and the Man’s Man.
The Iron Addict is usually a male, often on the autism spectrum, who has retreated to the gym as an escape from the real world. He spends more hours in the gym than he does at home, and might even work at the gym to avoid the solitude of his own living room. His entire life outside the gym is a complete mess, but the gym provides a sense of order within the chaos. He lives or dies by his powerlifting total (a combined poundage of his Squat, Bench Press, and Deadlift). He has a tattoo of Jón Pál Sigmarsson saying “There is no reason to be alive if you can’t do deadlift!” He eats 6 meals per day, all the same: meat and rice, meat and rice, meat and rice. Everything else is a waste of stomach space. He was happy to start using anabolic steroids, because he is “all in” and has no concern for living to old age. Besides, the peptides help him to recover from his torn quad. He snorts cocaine before a set of heavy deadlifts because he read that Benedikt Magnusson did the same. To afford these drugs, and all of the meat, he films “flex shows” for gay men who subscribe to his OnlyFans (he’s not gay, but if he’s honest, it’s nice when someone ‘mires his gains). He can’t sleep at night because of Tren sweats. If you ask the Iron Addict why he lifts weights, he will tell you that he “loves it” and that he “can’t stop” doing it.
The Bougie Biohacker has nothing in common with the Iron Addict. His life is perfectly ordered and maximally efficient. He goes to the gym at the same time every day, only a few days a week, for no more than 60 minutes (he would never be late for work). He begins his workout with 15 minutes of LISS (low intensity, steady state) cardio because he read a meta analysis which showed that it improved circulation and productivity throughout the day. He listens to a non-fiction audiobook like “Atomic Habits” during his walk. He follows a science-based training program designed by Jeff Nippard with the optimal amount of training volume (not too much). He has never had an injury at the gym, because he never pushes himself that hard. He is interested in the minimum-effective dose to elicit a training response. His diet consists of healthy, organic vegetables and lean meat. He learned from a video with Dr. Layne Norton that there is no scientific evidence that consuming more than 0.8 grams of protein per pound of body weight is more beneficial for muscle recovery. The Bougie Biohacker is interested in the minimum effective dose in all things, because it makes his schedule more efficient. If you ask him why he lifts weights, he says it is for health and longevity: he intends to live as long as possible. He occasionally posts gym selfies on Instagram to let everyone know that he is an active, fit, productive person. Most of the reactions come from gay men who follow the “gym” hashtags looking for cute guys. The Bougie Biohacker may or not be gay, but regardless, he likes the attention (and definitely doesn’t judge!)
Both of these archetypes are somewhat misguided. Much like Sam Fussel (who wrote the book “Muscle: Confessions of an Unlikely Bodybuilder”), the Iron Addict clearly has some trauma and identity issues that he should work through with his priest in confession. Like the title character from the film “Dennis” he has a crippling anxiety about failure. Any time he tries something outside the gym, and experiences a minor setback, he retreats to his safe place. He has made the gym into an end in itself–his huge muscles and his awe-inspiring strength serve no purpose other than themselves. At best he experiences some small transcendence in hitting PRs (personal records) and a sense of pride in his physique. But this pride is short lived, because his insecurity immediately invalidates his success- there is always someone bigger, stronger, better. The gym coddles him and gives him some sense of purpose but it is a Sisyphean quest. This Sisyphus is not happy–and is on the verge of a heart attack.
But the Bougie Biohacker is more insidious: his flaw is that his life has no greater purpose. He has transformed “being healthy and alive” into an end in itself, as if simply living as long as possible and being maximally productive were a worthwhile cause to live. He is a man “without a chest” described by CS Lewis - there is no passion and no higher meaning to anything that he does. While the Iron Addict uses the gym like a bad habit, the Bougie Biohacker uses it in an amoral way, directed toward no real end. For no matter how healthy his routine, he will still die. All of his healthy habits and longevity practices will have been sound and fury, signifying nothing as his bones turn to dust. (Side note: Bougie Biohacker would recommend that the Iron Addict see a licensed therapist who uses science-based methods.)
Let us contrast them with two superior archetypes, beginning with the Aesthetic Samurai. This gym-goer believes that beauty is a moral obligation. He started going to the gym because though he loved beauty, he himself was not beautiful to behold. He doesn’t accept this dissonance, because the body and the soul both make up the person. He trains hard, with an emphasis on feeling each individual muscle–he has created an image in his mind of the ideal form of his physique and will do what it takes. He might dabble in performance enhancers, but only just enough–he knows there is such a thing as too much. He listens to hardstyle and hyperpop. The Aesthetic Samurai reads Mishima’s “Sun and Steel” between sets. When he reaches his peak form, he posts tastefully composed photos displaying his physique. He’s almost certainly gay, but sexual activities are completely out of his mind when he posts these photos–he wants to tap into the beautiful, not be sexy.
The Man’s Man goes to the gym because he believes that a man ought to be strong. He knows that being strong will make him better at fulfilling his duties at home and elsewhere. He aspires to intimidate his daughters’ future boyfriends and to inspire his sons to be strong men. He only cares about his max bench press or deadlift because he wants to be stronger than his buddy from high school. He doesn’t care much about his diet, beyond a few basic rules, because he likes his wife’s cooking (and beers on the weekend) too much to eat clean. He listens to dad rock at the gym and looks up to classic bodybuilders like Arnold or Frank Zane (because they “weren’t too crazy looking”). He won’t use any anabolic steroids because he heard that they “make your balls shrink.” The Man’s Man has never taken a selfie in his life and does not understand why anyone would do so. He thinks the Iron Addict has no life, the Bougie Biohacker is a pussy, and the Aesthetic Samurai is kinda fruity.
What separates the Samurai and the Man’s Man from their counterparts is a higher sense of purpose. The Aesthetic Samurai is a devotee of the True and the Beautiful. He does not lift “for himself” but for a divine entity outside of himself. He has no illusions about the gym itself fulfilling him, nor about exercise helping him to live forever. He knows that he will die, and he plans to leave behind a beautiful corpse. The Man’s Man has a much simpler mindset- he believes that there is a proper way for a man to be, and he wants to walk that proper way. His sense of duty to the ideal man and to the people in his life who need him to be a strong man gives the gym a direct purpose. He uses the gym as a tool to accomplish a goal (and he probably knows how to use a lot of tools).
Remember that these are archetypes. They are “real” in the Platonic sense, but at the same time they describe no “real” person that you or I know (at least not 100% of the time). As a gym owner I have encountered all four types. I know all four of them are inside myself- I have had seasons of being a Gymcel, a science dork, an aesthete, and a threatening dad rock enjoyer. The mean lies somewhere therein.
If this fluff piece has made you anxious about which gym archetype you are, just remember the words of Sam Fussell’s first gym partner: “Honey, every gym is gay.”
Joe Enabnit is a gym owner, useless degree holder, rural r-word, kaffeost enjoyer, and Iowa supremacist. Twitter:@barbell_saint IG: @saintmichaelbarbell
originally published in cracks in pomo: the zine
check out Joe’s appearance on Cracks in PoMo the pod here
Graphic by Patrick Keohane (Revolving Style) @revolvingstyle