9.21.25: Slamming Weights
Every time I go to the gym, there’s this guy who slams weights like he’s auditioning for a Michael Bay movie. Nobody reacts anymore. It made me think—what if we’re all extras in each other’s training montages? He’s the loud villain, I’m the scrappy underdog, someone else is the sidekick drinking an energy drink. We might not notice it, but the gym is the closest thing to a gladiator arena we’ve got left. Minus the lions. Unless you count the guy in leopard-print shorts pacing like he’s about to pounce. Honestly, that might be scarier than the weights.
