Sweat vs Snooze

You know those days when you’re pumped to hit the gym after a long flight? That was me today. I was determined, ready to crush my workout. I walked into the gym, picked the treadmill with the pool view, and started my run. It was just me, the rhythm of my feet, and the stomping of my feet on the machine. Life was good.

And then, she walked in.

This character—yes, “character” feels like the right word- strolled into the gym with an air of mystery. She had this almost majestic yet nonchalant vibe, the sort that makes you pause and consider, Is she about to lift a hundred kilos or just here to take a selfie?

But as quickly as she appeared, she vanished. Poof! I lost sight of her. Not that it mattered—I was focused on my run, sweating like I’d just been dropped in the Sahara. After what felt like an eternity of running, I moved to the corner area to stretch. That’s when I saw her.

She wasn’t at the dumbbells, sculpting biceps. She wasn’t on the bench press, summoning the strength of a thousand protein shakes. She wasn’t even on the treadmill, doing that ceremonial 2 km/h “I’m totally working out” shuffle. I scanned the room, expecting to catch her mid-lunge or maybe wiping imaginary sweat off her brow. But no, there she was, in the farthest corner of the gym, sprawled on a cycling machine like it was her personal recliner. Head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, completely surrendered to the nap gods. She wasn’t just resting, she was in REM sleep territory, possibly dreaming of kale smoothies and PRs she never intended to hit

There she was, on the farthest piece of cycling equipment in the room, head tilted back, mouth slightly open, in a state of pure bliss. She wasn’t just resting—she was out. Meanwhile, I was in the middle of a hardcore push-up set, drenched in sweat, questioning all my life choices. There she sat, seemingly living her best life in the land of dreams.

My face inches from the mat, shaking like a leaf, counting the seconds to freedom. Sweat was dripping off me like I was reenacting a scene from Titanic. Meanwhile, in the far corner of the gym, she had somehow discovered the secret to ultimate fitness—absolute stillness. I can’t help but imagine her explaining her “intense gym session” to her friends later.

Her: “Guys, the gym was intense today. Like, so intense. I just got back, and honestly, my body feels incredible.”

Friend 1: “Wow, what did you do? Squats? Deadlifts?”

Her: “No, no, it’s more about being present in the gym, you know? Like, just soaking in the energy and aligning my spirit with my body.”

Friend 2: “Oh, totally! The vibe is everything. Did you do cardio?”

Her: dramatic pause “Well… I cycled for a bit. It’s about quality, not quantity.”

Friend 1: “And your results?”

Her: “Ugh, my body just doesn’t listen! I keep showing up, but the six-pack doesn’t come overnight. It’s probably because I didn’t have my protein shake before the workout. That’s the key, I’ve heard.”

Friend 2: “For sure. It’s all about timing.”

Meanwhile, I was still recovering from my planks, trying to wrap my head around how someone could walk into the gym, claim a cycling machine as a nap station, and leave feeling like a fitness guru.

And you know what? She might actually be onto something. Why sweat buckets when you can just manifest results by showing up and letting the universe do the rest?

Lesson learned: sometimes the gym isn’t just a place for fitness. For some, it’s a sanctuary, a peaceful escape… or, apparently, a really expensive nap zone.