The brilliance of the community gym
Apartment building amenities for the win
If you live in an apartment building or condominium, you might have a gym within the property, available and accessible only to residents. If you do, I strongly encourage you to use it. Let me explain why.
About seven months ago, I decided to scrap my Equinox gym membership. I was paying $275 a month to go there, wasting a lot of time, money, and mental bandwidth on getting there and being there each day. I was following my own workout scheme (aided by an app called Freeletics), and rarely used the all-inclusive amenities like group fitness classes. I had to trek between two and five miles each way to the two closest locations—Downtown LA and Hollywood.
There wasn’t anything glaringly wrong with the experience, I simply made a logical evaluation of the costs and benefits and decided it wasn’t worth it to me. I realized that all I need to be motivated and do the daily task of exercise is space and a few key pieces of equipment. Enter: the building gym.
Night sky view at the building gym
Just 50 feet from my front door, it’s smaller than any public gym and includes only the basics. But it’s also included as part of my rent, is usually deserted, and is the shortest commute I’ve ever had to a gym. That I’d used it only a few times in nearly three years all of a sudden seemed boneheaded. I’d dismissed the humble building gym because it lacks what so many people want out of their gym: a social scene and an audience. There is no steam room, no shower, and the equipment is basic. But as I’ve learned in recent months, it compensates for its basic-ness in being accessible, free, and truly feeling like “me time.”
To do what I like to do in the gym, I only need a padded floor mat of some kind for stretching, dumbbells, and a bench. These implements cover 95% of the movements in the style of workout I prefer—of body weight and free weight exercises, which challenge both the body’s major muscles and its minor stabilizing muscles. These tend to have the most efficient effort/payoff ratio and after using a smart workout app for several years, I sorta have my routine down with enough variability and variety to keep it interesting and my body responding. I suppose I’m also lucky that I’ve been an active gym-goer since I was in high school.
Today, little did I imagine that I would gain many other pluses by doing my daily workouts in the building gym, aside from saving money. Because it’s accessible only to other residents, there is a courtesy and cordiality that’s different from public gyms, where fellow patrons may be familiar, but they’re also anonymous.
My neighbors who use the building are polite, deferential, and greet each other, if only with a smile or a nod. Because the space is compact—I’d guess about 250 square feet—no one lingers or wastes time. Everyone just wants to get in and get out so they can move on to other activities. There’s no peacocking like you’ll see at places like Equinox.
It may be coincidence, but with only two treadmills, a bicycle, an elliptical, two benches, a rack of free weights, and a multifunctional cable/pullup machine, and a handful of accessories like TRX straps and rubber bands, it’s rare that someone else is using equipment that I’d also like to use. And if they are, our times in the gym overlap by only 20 or 30 minutes. There was a pleasant harmony to the space and its contents, even while five of us were occupying the space recently. LA has been drenched with a wet winter, so many have been cloistered inside. I wasn’t surprised to see that many people show up around 5pm, when it’s usually just me.
Even though it isn’t fancy, or spacious, I find the little apartment building community gym to be sweet. I now know and run into my neighbors more regularly. And because there is little anonymity like at a typical gym—the building has about 40 units—there’s less arrogance, more friendliness. No one is pushy about equipment. There’s an added layer of etiquette because I end up working out alongside my building manager most days.
Always tired
When it’s just me and I have the gym to myself, I’ve found that I feel more in touch with myself and my body. Whereas at Equinox I was always looking at others and comparing myself to them, even though I tried not to, being alone in a gym setting allows me to be kinder to myself and focus more on how the exercise feels rather than how I look.
Recently I also scrapped the fitness app I’d been following and began designing my own workouts. Using the same basic structure but focusing on what I am excited to do or my body feels ready for, not simply what’s being prescribed by the app’s algorithm. I’d posit that the combination of reducing the friction of my daily exercise routine by not having to leave the property, while still having a “third place” in which to get out of the house, along with fewer distractions and opportunities for comparison while working out, has helped heal some of the body dysmorphia that I have undoubtedly carried with me since adolescence.
Body dysmorphia is defined by the NHS as “a mental health condition where a person spends a lot of time worrying about flaws in their appearance.” Many gay men have it due to years of bullying and a desire to assert their masculine features in adulthood.
In an empty or nearly empty gym, I’m kinder to myself, focusing more on the sensations in my body and less on aesthetics, which vary based on the day, the lighting, what I’ve been eating, and whether I’ve had my hair cut. And, I’m getting to know my neighbors in an organic and relatable way—those who appear in the gym automatically share the trait of caring about their physical health and enjoying fitness. I learn things about my neighbors by observing them in the gym.
I know not everyone has this option, so I know I’m lucky in that respect. Each night I slide the glass doors open and enjoy views of the sunset sky while I get my fitness on.
If you do live in such a building, you should consider what you’re overlooking by going to an expensive, fancy gym full of peacocks, when all you really need is on-site, just steps away.