Stop Filming in the Gym, You Weirdos

I don’t like the gym. I don’t like how gyms sound and I don’t like how they look – both the aggressively grey, “masculine” gyms that have words like “PUMP” on the walls, and the ones marketed at glam PR girls, which seem to assume people are dying to work out in spaces reminiscent of Clapham nightclubs. But the thing I hate most about the gym is the unshakeable sense that you’re about to go viral while straining to finish your push-ups. Yes, I’m talking about the scourge of this modern age, the shadow hanging over New Year workout sessions: Gym Content.

In a world where salads call for a full-on photoshoot before they’re eaten, it was only a matter of time before gym sessions became victims of the smartphone paparazzi. Gone are the days when the gym was a haven for unflattering workout faces and back-of-the-cupboard fits. Now, every treadmill trot, bicep curl, and, heaven forbid, unsuccessful attempt at a pull-up, can be captured by a rogue fitness influencer for the whole world to see.

If you’ve been to the gym even once in the last couple of years, you’ll know what I’m talking about: Phone cameras propped up on benches and balanced on machines. Tripods set up to document every moment of a stretch, catching unwitting passersby who are just trying to get to the elliptical. It’s enough to make any regular gym goer nervous, let alone anyone who might not feel entirely comfortable running on the spot for half an hour like a deranged hamster. But what does it matter how anyone else feels? You, the gymfluencer, are the main character! Work that narcissistic energy, girl!

Look, I know some fitness enthusiasts argue that capturing their workout journey serves a purpose beyond narcissism. Many document their routines as a kind of visual diary, tracking progress and celebrating personal achievements. You can argue that capturing and reviewing your technique lets you to fine-tune your form. And, of course, online communities thrive on shared experiences, so many gym-goers find motivation and support through social media. 

But for every bit of content made to inspire, coach, or simply keep track of personal goals, there are videos that seem designed to shame people for using public space in totally normal ways. “Not a grown man wiping his mouth while I’m posing,” a young, ripped gym bro captioned one video, where an older man is seen in a mirror wiping sweat from his face. Because, you know, he’s in a GYM, where some people actually SWEAT. Then there are the endless callout vids, where women claim anyone who glances in their general direction is a creep. And like, sure, there are some guys who love to leer at women as they squat, but I don’t think it’s anti-feminist to say that sometimes fellas are just looking around.

The worst example of this phenomenon appeared in a viral TikTok posted – and since deleted – by Twitch streamer Jessica Fernandez. In the video, Fernandez claims a man was staring at her “like a piece of meat” during her gym workout. But anyone who watches the video can tell that the bloke in question did absolutely nothing of the sort. Indeed, the whole video feels like it’s set in topsy-turvy land, as the dude glances around the room, clocking Fernandez and her full camera set-up for the briefest of moments, while she calls him “feral” and a “stupid piece of fucking shit”.

Maybe it’s because I’m 30 and I increasingly find performing for social media incredibly cringe (fit checks at the bus stop make me want to die), or maybe it’s because I can’t imagine anything worse than dragging myself to the gym after two weeks drinking Baileys and finding my sweaty face used as an example of bad gym etiquette, but I think we all need to work on our manners. We need to bring back IRL social embarrassment. When did it become normal to expect everyone in a given public space to cater to your personal social media aesthetic? Why do the reactions of people online matter more than those of the people literally standing next to you?

It’s not just the gym – everyday I see videos of older people just going about their business, unaware they’re being recorded and posted to TikTok as “goals”. In the summer, one such video went mega-viral: "Saw this queen leave the theatre alone after Barbie,” the caption read, as an elderly woman was seen just leaving a cinema. Even if the intention wasn’t to shame or criticise the woman, recording her was still intrusive and, frankly, creepy. And the video got over *11 million* views! She just wanted to watch a movie, not become a source of content!

Don’t forget too, that many people posting videos of people trying to simply go about their day – whether at the cinema, the gym or on the street – also make money from this content. Some people might think this gives them more of a pass, but I think it makes it worse. The people that end up as content collateral damage don’t get compensated. None of that lucrative influencer lifestyle trickles down to them – they’re just pawns for virality. 

Thankfully, it looks like some gyms are catching up to the way most of their members feel about being photographed or filmed without consent. In the UK, a number of gym chains have started restricting when and where people can film on their premises, or telling members to seek consent from other gym goers when filming. In an interview with the Observer in November, a PureGym spokesperson said: “It is important to respect one another’s privacy, which is why our gym rules clearly state that people should not take photographs or videos on the premises unless they have permission.” 

Fitness First says gym users who may end up in video or pictures must give their consent, and Virgin Active is now telling members it will ask for images to be deleted if anyone raises concerns. Smaller independent gyms are also changing their policies: Pure Muscles Gym in Walthamstow, London, for instance, has banned the use of tripods at weekends. 

This is a welcome start, but doesn’t yet go far enough. Maybe I sound like a tyrant, but I want tripods banned every single day. I want cameras out of gyms completely. The gym should be a safe space to stumble, sweat, and scroll through your phone for precisely four minutes on an exercise bike before leaving, if you so wish. In 2024, I pray that Main Character Energy is out, and thinking about the other people around you is in. It's time to reclaim the gym for its intended purpose – a space for sweating your ass off, without the fear of audience scrutiny.