hide

Read Next

In Praise of the Iron Gym

On SEBASTIAN MARSHALL

One of the greatest joys in the world is the iron gym.

What's an iron gym? It's hard to describe. It's easier to say what it's not.

An iron gym isn't a fancy fitness club. An iron gym doesn't offer jazzercise. An iron gym doesn't have wooden panelling and beautiful adornment. An iron gym doesn't have awesome, clean bathrooms. An iron gym's locker room is spartan, at best. An iron gym has mostly free weights, with very few machines. An iron gym isn't a place to mingle with the opposite sex. An iron gym doesn't offer yoga or other classes. An iron gym has no amenities, niceties, or anything like. An iron gym is usually obscure, with nothing special in real estate. It's often in a basement. An iron gym doesn't have a salesman to give you a tour of the place and show you around, doesn't ask for a one year commitment to join, or anything like that. An iron gym doesn't have fancy membership cards, swipe-in/swipe-out, or anything like that. You just show up and nobody hassles you.

So what's an iron gym? It's a spartan, bare bones place with free weights and a few very basic machines. It's often dirty and disorganized. There's no classes offered there. There's almost never women in an iron gym, if you go every day for an hour you'll maybe see a woman once a week. Maybe.

And I fucking love it. I love being at an iron gym. It's just a place to push iron. There's no posturing, no showing off, nothing like that. If you need a spot, someone will give you a spot. Everybody's cool. People don't talk too much, don't socialize too much. Nobody's doing business or trying to get a date or trying to move up the social hierarchy. There's just one thing there. Iron. And you lift and it's good.

Suffer Now

On Tynan

I'm exhausted. I took a red-eye from Las Vegas to DC, which is a bad idea to begin with because the flight is only four hours long. Even if you sleep the whole time, you're still exhausted. I didn't sleep, though, partly because it's hard to sleep on planes, and partly because the largest airplane neighbor I've ever had was pressed up against me and threatening to engulf my thigh in hers.

So I didn't sleep at all, and I'm exhausted.

I can't really afford to be exhausted, though. If I go to sleep at noon, which I desperately wanted to do, my schedule would be shot for days. And I have to do a touch Sett, do a language tape, and write a blog post.

It's so easy to push that burden to your future self and suffer later. I'll just write two blog posts tomorrow. I can skip a day on my language tape and leave it up to my future self to pick up the slack. Sett stuff can wait. And, hey, why not sleep now and fix that sleep schedule later?

Rendering New Theme...