Today I’m around 45. Been working out since I was 13. That’s over 30 years of sweat, grit, and lifting things heavier than my problems. But today? I’m on pause. Not because I lost the will, but because gyms have lost the plot. Finding a decent gym with basic, no-nonsense equipment is harder than finding someone who actually reads the terms and conditions before clicking “I agree.”I come from an era when cars had windows you rolled down, not buttons that did it for you. When road trips meant carrying extra water—for the radiator, not just for Instagram aesthetics. When a broken-down truck on the Lonavala Ghat meant an overnight camping experience you never signed up for.Back then, fitness wasn’t about gym selfies and neon protein shakes. It was about watching two men throw each other into the mud while the entire village cheered, about wrestlers traveling across states just to prove that their region’s diet and weather made them superior. Fitness was about adaptation—adapting to the seasons, to the terrain, to life itself.

Now? Fitness is about controlled temperatures and artificial gains. Climate doesn’t build you anymore; your overpriced whey protein does. And yet, step out of that air-conditioned muscle factory, and suddenly, reality hits harder than your so-called “PR.” A little heat, a little dust, and boom—body crashes faster than a cheap server on Black Friday.The human body is fragile, yes. But that’s exactly why it should be tested, not pampered. Instead of syncing your workouts to the AC settings, try syncing them to the actual weather. Sweat because you worked hard, not because the central cooling failed. But no, modern gyms must cater to the sensitive souls. Women feel hot? Install AC. They feel bored? Install TV. But don’t bother with proper steppers, steam baths, or decent showers. God forbid anyone actually comes to a gym to train rather than just exist in it. Gyms aren’t fitness centers anymore—they’re day spas with dumbbells.

I’ve seen it all—the ‘90s, the 2000s, the 2010s, and now 2020s. And all I’ve learned is that the West tells us how to live, and we obediently follow—except we always get it wrong. We abandoned our own strength-training traditions for the illusion of progress, and now, fitness is just another business model. Not a discipline, not a lifestyle—just another overpriced subscription service.All I ask for is a gym that gets the basics right. No unnecessary frills, no air-conditioned nonsense, and definitely no gym owners with questionable music taste. I was in Bangalore once—great gym, but the guy kept playing old Kannada melodies. Now I’m in Pune, and guess what? Same problem, different language. Who the hell thinks romantic ballads belong in a gym? If Gold’s Gym has a music policy, why can’t local gyms figure this out?Three decades ago, gyms were run by disciplined lifters who knew what they were doing. Now? It’s run by businessmen who know what sells. There’s no system, just chaos. Everyone’s chasing the next trend, the next hack, the next shortcut—forgetting that the road ends the same for all of us. And if you’re in too much of a rush, well, might as well order the wood for your own funeral pyre in advance.