This book adopts an innovative approach in exploring the evolution of fitness practices among a community of gym goers amid a global pandemic, considering its impact on the interplay of the words, habits, and relationships gym goers use in realizing their aspirations of wellness and well-being.
Perrino and Reno introduce a multilayered framework that combines insights from linguistic and sociocultural anthropology, integrating narrative analysis, discourse analysis, and ethnography, with autoethnography. This approach allows for a holistic portrait of the gym as a research site and of fitness as a fruitful area for dynamic cross-disciplinary study. The volume explores how the COVID-19 pandemic has shaped attitudes and practices around fitness, drawing on audio and video recordings and the authors’ lived experiences to analyze everything from workout choreography to micro-celebrity fitness culture to group classes. The book raises key questions around what it means to be well amid a pandemic, the practical dangers of realizing fitness goals in such times, the effects on the social relationships inherent to gym culture, and the impact on identity construction and self-reflection.
This volume will appeal to scholars interested in the interdisciplinary study of fitness, in such areas as linguistic anthropology, sociocultural anthropology, health humanities, and sport studies.
Sabina M. Perrino is Associate Professor of Anthropology and Linguistics at Binghamton University. She is author of Narrating Migration: Intimacies of Exclusion in Northern Italy (Routledge), Research Methods in Linguistic Anthropology (with Sonya Pritzker; Bloomsbury), and Storytelling in the Digital World (with Anna De Fina; John Benjamins). She is the co-editor of the series Bloomsbury Studies in Linguistic Anthropology.
Joshua O. Reno is Professor of Anthropology at Binghamton University. He is the author of Waste Away (2016), Military Waste (2019), and, with Britt Halvorson, Imagining the Heartland (2022), all from University of California Press. He has a forthcoming book, Home Signs, which examines the strangeness and importance of non-verbal communication from an autoethnographic perspective.
Routledge Studies in Health Humanities
The Languages of COVID-19
Translational and Multilingual Perspectives on Global Healthcare
Edited by Piotr Blumczynski and Steven Wilson
The Social, Aesthetic, and Medical Implications of Performing Shame
Interdisciplinary Approaches
Marlene Goldman
Pandemic Health and Fitness
Sabina M. Perrino and Joshua O. Reno
For more information about this series, please visit: www.routledge.com/Routledge-StudiesHealth-Humanities/book-series/RSH.
Pandemic Health and Fitness
Sabina M. Perrino and Joshua O. Reno
First published 2024 by Routledge
605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158
and by Routledge 4 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon, OX14 4RN
The right of Sabina M. Perrino and Joshua O. Reno to be identified as authors of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers.
Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2023041439
ISBN: 9781032328522 (hbk)
ISBN: 9781032328539 (pbk)
ISBN: 9781003317036 (ebk)
DOI: 10.4324/9781003317036
Typeset in Sabon by Newgen Publishing UK
We dedicate this book to all gym members, instructors, and trainers of the Riverwalk across time and space.
Acknowledgments ix
Preface
Brief Description of Our Participants
1 Introduction: Pandemic Health and Fitness 1
1.1 Introduction 1
1.2 Gym Experiences before and during the COVID-19 Pandemic 2
1.3 Phenomenology and Semiotics: A Theoretical Orientation 10
1.3.1 Phenomenology and Semiotics: Gyms as Habit Forming 10
1.3.2 Good Habits and Bad: Gyms as Deadly 15
1.4 Research Methods and Ethical Considerations 18
1.5 Book Structure 20
2 Workout Choreography 25
2.1 Introduction 25
2.2 A Walk through the Riverwalk 28
2.3 Belonging to a Gym Space 36
2.4 Pandemic Choreography 42
2.5 Conclusions: New Choreographies during the COVID-19 Pandemic 44
3 Reflections and Refractions 48
3.1 Introduction 48
3.2 Reflecting and Refractive Mirrors in Gyms: Fitness Ideologies 54
3.3 Boundless Mirrors 62
3.4 Conclusions: “The Most Narcissistic Exercise Equipment Ever” 65
4 Training 69
4.1 Introduction 69
4.2 Backstage Passes 71
4.2.1 Training in Practice: Modeling and Imitation 76
4.3 Two Fitness Trainers/Instructors: Morgan and Sophia 80
4.3.1 Morgan 80
4.3.2 Sophia 83
4.4 Competitive Stances in Fitness Practices 88
4.5 Conclusions: Transformative Training Experiences 91
5 Dangers 94
5.1 Introduction 94
5.2 Narrating Fitness: Everyday Dangers 97
5.3 “You Are Overdoing It!”: Training and Exercising (Off) Limits 100
5.4 (Re-)Gendered Refractions in Gym Spaces 104
5.5 “Food Is Poison!”: Dangerous Nutritional Advice by Fitness Instructors/Trainers 110
5.6 Conclusions: Dangerous Balances 111
6 Exercising Groups 115
6.1 Introduction 115
6.2 Exercising in Groups at the Riverwalk 119
6.3 Undergoing a Bootcamp Class with Sophia 122
6.4 Intimate Group Workouts with Sophia 124
6.5 Zoom Group Exercising during the COVID-19 Pandemic and Beyond 126
6.6 Conclusions: “We Are Still Together!” 130
7 Conclusion: American Fitness Histories and Possible Futures 142
7.1 Introduction 142
7.2 The “Americanness” of Gym Culture? 144
7.3 The Future of Global Gym Culture? 150 References 155 Appendix: Transcription and Abbreviation Conventions 164 Index 165
Acknowledgments
Pandemic Health and Fitness could have never been written without the vibrant participation of our many research participants whom we interviewed and with whom we had informal conversations about fitness and gym life. We are very thankful to all of them even though we cannot name them here to respect their privacy. We are extremely grateful to the managers of the Riverwalk who enthusiastically opened their doors to us. Our book draws from ethnographic research that we conducted at this small gym in the Southern Tier, New York, from March 2019 until April 2020 when the COVID-19 pandemic hit the world. Despite the various lockdowns, we managed to continue our fieldwork at the gym, when possible, and by participating in the virtual fitness classes organized by trainers/instructors until July 2023.
We wish to acknowledge support for our research from the 2019 Material and Visual Worlds, Transdisciplinary Areas of Excellence (TAE) Seed Grant at Binghamton University. We are also very grateful to Dr. Sarah Gerk, a musicologist at Binghamton University, for her collaboration at the early stages of our project. Dr. Gerk was present at several of our interviews and offered ideas, especially on the music used in group exercise classes and at the gym more generally. We both wish to thank the Department of Anthropology at Binghamton University for its ongoing support and enthusiasm for our project. Informal conversations with our colleagues and graduate and undergraduate students were very beneficial and stimulating.
Preface
Winters can be very harsh in the Southern Tier, New York, especially from January until March, with temperatures dropping to minus 20 degrees Fahrenheit at times. During those months, individuals who love practicing jogging outside (cf. Crawley 2021), or who simply want to take long walks, which are often recommended by local doctors, may need to find other solutions to keep up with their daily fitness needs. People who want to tone their muscles, moreover, may not find sufficiently heavy things to lift at home or in the wider world at any time of the year (unless they have a job that requires it). Gyms are the ideal scenarios to satisfy many of these needs, especially in winter months if you want to do cardio, or during practically any season when you are strength training. It was exactly during one of those snowy and icy days that the values of gyms as social and fitness spaces emerged in front of our eyes while we were writing and reading together at a small café in downtown Binghamton, New York.1 It was February 2019, and, during our daily breaks, we both went to our local gym, the Riverwalk Athletic Club, which we will refer to as “the Riverwalk” throughout the book, just a few blocks away. Located in the small city of Binghamton in New York’s Southern Tier, the Riverwalk has many options for working out in different ways. While we had already been active gym members before our research began, to fully grasp the various activities undergone2 at the Riverwalk, we went to a wide variety of fitness classes (first in person and then, during the COVID-19 pandemic, online, especially via Zoom), interviewed participants, made friends, and worked out under the tutelage of personal trainers and group exercise instructors. We naturally started to share ideas about fitness practices during our “writing” meetings and soon realized that we wanted to study these practices more systematically given our common interest and passion for fitness. After formalizing a project on fitness practices at the Riverwalk with our university, we started to conduct fieldwork at this gym during the spring and summer of 2019.
Pandemic Health and Fitness reflects the many interactions we both had with the staff, the instructors, the trainers, and the regular gym members of the Riverwalk. Following Roberta Sassatelli’s (2010: 7) insights that “[o]n a global level, the USA stands out as having a significantly stronger commercial fitness sector than any other country,” we focus on the globalizing power of American gyms, which have become models of fitness practices across the globe, as some of our interviewees also stated. American fitness culture has indeed traveled a long way. As one of our interlocutors recounted, the first gym he attended was in Iran, where he learned how to perform fitness practices following the American model. The global reach of the American gym model has been unprecedented, especially in the last two decades (Sassatelli 2010). Some of the gym instructors, moreover, have promoted new ways of exercising and training, especially after the COVID-19 pandemic forced everyone into more confined spaces during the many lockdown orders in 2020 and 2021. It was as if the whole fitness world was snowed in, like we were all in the grip of an interminable New York winter. Fitness, in gyms and elsewhere, needed to be reinvented during those times. In this book, we thus examine fitness culture from the perspective of a small gym in Binghamton, in the Southern Tier, Upstate New York.
Inspired by the many stories that our participants shared with us during our interviews and more informal conversations with them, the six chapters of Pandemic Health and Fitness trace the vibrant life of the Riverwalk. These narratives, and the protagonists who narrated them, are threaded through every chapter, which would not make sense without them. Our own autoethnographic tellings, feelings, and emotions about fitness practices, the connections we developed with many of the gym members, and the various contexts we experienced before, during, and after the COVID-19 pandemic also play key roles throughout the six chapters and the Conclusion. In our research, we found that the ordinariness of everyday gym goers, a topic that has rarely been studied (but see Sassatelli 1999, 2000, 2010), was anything but ordinary, as we learned about their fitness practices through their tellings and our interactions with them. None of our participants showed satisfaction with their own body type; all expressed the desire to make some changes, to engage in challenging practices to reach specific goals, which, often, were unrealistic. Some of them couldn’t keep up with the pre-established goals; some others ended up obsessing about their individual targets and challenges. Overdoing it was a normal practice for some members and instructors, thus causing injuries, anxieties, and feelings of not being accomplished or “good” enough. The surrounding mirrors, which would reflect their bodies from various angles (Chapter 3), were (and have been) continuous reminders of how they were and how hard they needed to work to reach
their idealized body types, shapes, and sizes, or how far they have come and how far they may fall if they are not careful. Various types of dangers and risks (Chapter 5) while training and exercising have been present, as many of our informants described and as we experienced ourselves too. Before the COVID-19 pandemic, when we conducted fieldwork in person at the Riverwalk, life at the gym was bustling during certain hours of the day: gym members would come and go; they would use the equipment for their allowed thirty minutes; they would wipe it and go to another machine. Some members and instructors would form small groups in the various areas of the gym (Chapter 2) to chat and to get to know each other, especially before and after some group classes (Chapter 6). Some of these classes were very popular, like Sophia’s (Chapters 2 and 6). Her Saturday morning Bootcamp class, for example, attracted many gym members who filled the gym at an early time too (Chapter 6). Sometimes, these are the classes that convince an individual to become a gym member, as was the case for Francis, Marcie, Sabina, and Samantha, for example. When the COVID-19 pandemic confined everyone at home, many gym instructors saw the need to reinvent themselves very rapidly. This is what Bianca, Morgan, Sophia, not without various struggles, were able to do by starting their own Zoom, Facebook, and Instagram practices. These venues have been very successful, so that when gyms, including the Riverwalk, reopened in April 2021, many gym members didn’t reinstate or renew their gym memberships and have faithfully remained with their virtual classes instead. This meant that some gyms lost a great number of members who discovered that they could work out efficiently from home and who, to this end, purchased expensive gym equipment including barbells and plates, dumbbells, benches, kettlebells, balance balls, and even professional spinning stand bikes (Chapter 6). It may be that this investment in home gyms creates a sunk cost for some former gym members that makes them feel like returning to the gym would be a waste. Whatever the reason, as some of our participants’ stories emphasized, the convenience to exercise from home, with all the required equipment and with a solid group and trainers/instructors, has continued to be a first choice for many individuals even when gyms reopened. While being face to face in fitness practices in gyms and elsewhere is uniquely appreciated and perhaps even irreplaceable (Lenneis et al. 2023), the COVID-19 pandemic has added other options that have challenged, and in some cases overturned, this belief.
Our six chapters move through these intricacies as they are raised by our main protagonists: the ordinary gym members, the staff, and the manager of the Riverwalk with whom we engaged in many conversations and whom we observed daily during our time at the gym. Being not at ease with one’s own body was a common motivator to join a gym and to start working out in small groups or individually. Yet, while the circulating
ideology is that joining a gym is a healthy choice, no matter what, it was not always the case for our participants (and became broadly perceived as an unhealthy choice during lockdown). Some of them felt that they were forced to join a gym by their doctors, friends, relatives, fitness enthusiasts in their families. Some others were eager to join and start a healthy journey but ended up in trapping themselves in exercising obsessively, for example, or in not eating enough food while overdoing training and/or exercise (Chapter 6). These types of dangers are indeed more common than one would expect. Comparing one’s body with others’ or with trainers’/ instructors’ muscular and slim shapes might create anxiety and frustration while being at the gym instead of a sense of satisfaction (Chapter 5). Mirrors, moreover, as they are placed on almost every wall of the gym, might exacerbate these states of mind through their inexorable reflections and refractions (Chapter 3). While perceiving oneself, in general and in the midst of exercise, is an important part of many people’s fitness routines, many of our participants also confessed their uneasiness in being reflected through the surrounding mirrors: the idea of seeing their bodies close to others’ bodies while engaging in movements is, to some of them, very uncomfortable.
Pandemic Health and Fitness is about all of these tensions and challenges that gym goers have faced in recent decades and that became marked during and after the COVID-19 pandemic in new ways. At issue, in conjunction with the ethics of living in a diseased world, are the ancient questions of how to live right and how to change for the better. These are as much moral as physical questions, of course, and they are ones that gyms bring to the forefront. While medical doctors, nutritionists, and fitness instructors can address the practicalities of how to change oneself physically in a way we cannot hope to address in this book, none of these experts would have any success doing so if they did not simultaneously inspire people at a social, interpersonal, and even moral level, or, put differently, help gym goers develop important relationships with people as well as fitness objects and training practices, to give themselves over to what can be new, unfamiliar, and even uncomfortable material devices and bodily habits. That, more than self-discipline or willpower, is what gym goers have in common. Like people who wear masks or keep social distance during a pandemic, they have to come to believe that they can and should.
Notes
1 Socializing in these “public spheres” (Habermas 1989) has been common among intellectuals since the nineteenth century, especially in European settings. Academics, writers, journalists, and so forth have continued this socializing
Preface xv
practice while writing, reading, and working more generally in these locations. Cafés have indeed become as popular as bookstores or libraries to accomplish these tasks in a cozy environment where individuals can write while drinking coffee, tea, or other beverages, and while consuming a light meal, even during challenging times such as the COVID-19 pandemic (Desjarlais et al. 2023). However, there are always counterpublics that require and create their own alternative social spaces in which to commune (see Fraser 1990; Warner 2005).
2 As we clarify in Chapter 6, we use the notion of undergoing fitness practices deliberately, in the sense that gym classes are thoroughly shared by participants who enjoy, and suffer through, them together.
Brief Description of Our Participants
In this section, we briefly describe the gym members, staff, instructors, and the manager who are featured in Pandemic Health and Fitness. While our book could have not been written without the participation of all the gym members we talked to informally and interviewed more formally, some of them have had a more prominent role by becoming active protagonists throughout our chapters. While their names have been changed to protect their privacy, as we clarified earlier, we offer these descriptions to assist our readers to better contextualize their stories and our reactions to them throughout the six chapters. Furthermore, these descriptions reflect the times when we met these individuals. While we have had interactions with some of the members until recently, we didn’t see some others, especially after the COVID-19 pandemic put everyone into lockdown. Here, we list the members featured in our book in alphabetical order. For more details on the typology of classes taught at the Riverwalk, see Chapter 6.
Bianca (instructor) is a yoga and BodySoulBreath-certified instructor who has been teaching at the Riverwalk for many years. She is in her early seventies, has gray, medium-length, curly hair, and is tall and flexible. She has a natural approach to life in the sense that she doesn’t believe in the properties of Western medications. She walks barefoot across town and at the gym too. Bianca transmits her philosophical beliefs to her followers while she teaches her yoga practices. She often tells anecdotes and meaningful, contextualized stories during her classes, which are always very well attended.
David (gym member) is in his forties and has short, black, curly hair. He loved training in the main area of the gym and used the treadmill extensively. He also loved taking Sophia’s Bootcamp classes, especially the ones on Wednesday evenings. David lived in a different town but would go to exercise at the Riverwalk for these classes and for the friendliness of the gym more generally. He has a positive, optimistic, and funny personality.
Florence (gym member) is in her fifties, has long red hair, is tall, and loves yoga classes. She is a class taker only. Before the COVID-19 pandemic, she was always present at the Saturday BodySoulBreath class (taught by Bianca) and the Sunday yoga class (taught by Henri). She is quiet, respectful, and funny when she feels comfortable with other class takers.
Francis (gym member) is in her early thirties, has long, dark, brown hair, is tall, and is very athletic. She is a class taker only, and loves taking weightlifting classes with Sophia and Rachael. When we met her in 2019, she had just defended her dissertation at Binghamton University.
Frederick (instructor) is middle-aged with brown-gray hair. He teaches cycling and toning in his spare time. He has a very athletic stance. Besides being an instructor at the Riverwalk, Frederick is also a science fiction writer, he owns a small publishing company, and he is a Professor of Mathematics at a New York State university.
Greta (staff and gym member) was an undergraduate student at Binghamton University when we interviewed her. She is in her twenties with long brown hair. She is tall and very athletic and appeared confident and self-possessed. She worked at the front desk of the Riverwalk for a couple of years to help pay her school fees. She was also a gym member and exercised at the gym during her free time.
Helen (gym manager and trainer) was the manager of the Riverwalk in 2019 when we started our fieldwork there. She has also been a trainer for individual sessions. She is middle-aged with brown curly hair. She is very athletic and has a positive and accommodating attitude. During the COVID-19 pandemic, Helen decided to step down as the manager while continuing to be a trainer at the Riverwalk.
Leila (gym member) is a lawyer in her thirties. She has long blond hair and is short. She would go to the gym soon after her work almost every day.
Marcie (gym member): when Sabina interviewed Marcie at the end of February 2020, she identified herself as a man in her early seventies. She is tall and muscular. Before the COVID-19 pandemic, Marcie would go to the gym to take spinning, toning, and yoga classes with several instructors. During the first COVID-19 lockdown, she decided to join Sophia’s Zoom classes and group. In April 2022, Marcie came out as a woman and changed her name. She has been in Sophia’s “family” group (see Chapter 6) since the first lockdown.
Morgan (trainer and manager) is middle-aged, has long red hair that she normally wears in a ponytail while at the gym, and is very athletic. She instructs her clients individually, often using a calm, matter-of-fact, and easygoing style as she does so. In 2022, she became the co-manager of the Riverwalk. She especially supervises and organizes group exercise classes.
Rachael (instructor) is middle-aged and teaches step aerobics, Power RAC, and Body Blast. She is blond and has medium-length hair. She is athletic and her classes are very well attended. Besides teaching at the gym, Rachael has a full-time job in downtown Binghamton.
Renee (gym member) is in her thirties, has medium-length brown hair, and is very athletic. She is also a certified instructor of yoga (but never taught at the Riverwalk). She has a strong passion for weightlifting classes, jogging, and, obviously, yoga.
Richard (trainer) is in his thirties, has short brown hair, and is very athletic. He usually trains his clients individually and participates in some classes too, including Sophia’s. He has a generally positive attitude with his clients and challenges them while keeping them safe. Several older women select him as their preferred trainer.
Samantha (gym member) has been a gym member at the Riverwalk since its creation. She is in her seventies with short gray hair, and is short and strong. Samantha is a confident person, always taking the opportunity to display and praise her own muscle development, and has been exercising with Sophia for more than thirty years.
Shelly (staff, gym member, and occasional instructor) is in her sixties and has light-brown, medium-length hair. She is rather short and has a slight build. A friendly and outgoing person, Shelly has been very active at the Riverwalk, taking many classes on a daily basis.
Sophia (instructor) is middle-aged with long dark-brown hair. She is very athletic and tends to be very direct and intense in conversation, though many of her students find her easy to talk to. She taught several classes at the Riverwalk before the COVID-19 pandemic. She now teaches one spinning class on Fridays. She has a Zoom practice, with many members participating in it.
Stace (gym member) is in his early twenties, has short brown hair, and is very athletic. He is proud of his muscles and would work out at the Riverwalk in the evening. He would also take Sophia’s classes, especially cycling and Bootcamp.
Windsor (staff and gym member) is in his twenties and worked at the Riverwalk when we interviewed him. He has short brown hair and has a very athletic and positive stance toward fitness and exercise more generally. His dream is to become a fitness trainer.
1 Introduction
Pandemic Health and Fitness
1.1 Introduction
There is something so appealing, if possibly very American, about the idea that things could be different, could be better, if only we take responsibility for ourselves and try harder. When the world presents seemingly impossible challenges, when everything seems conspired against us, focusing on changing oneself cuts things down to size, scales them down, makes it seem like there is hope, that we really can make a real difference in our life and in the world, no matter what obstacles lay in our path.
Such optimism about the benefits of self-discipline is an ideology and though increasingly globally popular (Andreasson and Johansson 2014b), some consider it to be an individualist delusion. But this belief is not only an idea, it is also a real place: the gym. As Wacquant (2004: 14–15) emphasizes, gyms are important sites where self-discipline and moral behaviors are not only practiced but made possible, “the vector of a debanalization of everyday life in that [the gym] turns bodily routine and remolding into a bridge to a distinctive sensorial and emotional universe” (Wacquant 2004: 15, italics in original). Gyms are indeed specialized structures created for the purpose of achieving a variety of fitness goals by working out. They are therefore structured places where individuals can perform nearly any kind of training and exercises, though different gyms offer distinct options—anything from pools to treadmills, free weights, exercise bikes, weight machines, saunas, tracks to run on, and group classes to sign up for in everything from kickboxing to yoga (see Chapter 2). And gym rooms almost always have mirrors everywhere (Chapter 3). Most people who go to gyms are not professional or aspiring athletes. For the vast majority of the people we got to know during our fieldwork, and for ourselves as well, working out is an elective activity or hobby, but it is not work as such.
Gyms, and fitness more generally, have been very popular in the United States and elsewhere for several decades now (Andreasson and Johansson
2014b). More recently, at least prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, fitness fanatics (Hejtmanek 2020) have been populating gyms and other spaces while engaging in obsessive training and exercising practices. Some still do now that fears of COVID-19 seem to have subsided. What exactly makes someone a fitness fanatic? Perhaps surprisingly, it does not mean someone who appears to have some idealized body type. Regular gym goers may be dedicated but that does not mean all of them, or even most of them, achieve a six-pack, bulging biceps, narrow waists, and so on. Even so, this group stands out from the general population, just not necessarily because of how they look. It has to do with their routine, choreographed actions (Chapter 2), their self-understanding and possible self-delusion (Chapter 3), their relationships with instructors (Chapter 4), risk perceptions (Chapter 5), and the groups they belong to (Chapter 6). While we describe the gym as our ethnographic site in more depth in Chapter 2, here, we begin by explaining the rationale behind our choice of such a site for our study of fitness practices in the US.
Not that many people who go to gyms are as committed to training as our interlocutors, or to train at all. Even before March 2020, when the COVID-19 pandemic started, only a fraction of people attended gyms regularly. According to the Global Health and Fitness Association, roughly 20% of Americans belonged to some gym or fitness center in 2019 and barely 20% of this group went there consistently.1 The same number of Americans who attend gyms regularly, roughly 4% of the overall population, have significant food allergies2 or are polyamorous.3 Roughly twice that many Americans own motorcycles,4 are millionaires,5 or reportedly think that they could beat an elephant, a lion, or a gorilla in hand-to-hand combat.6 Our point in listing out these somewhat random groupings of people (some of which are surely in doubt) is that our research among ordinary gym goers is already fairly selective, ruling out some people who work out but not in gyms or who work out so irregularly that we never had the chance to meet them.
1.2 Gym Experiences before and during the
COVID-19 Pandemic
We provided a provisional definition of a gym: a structured space in which individuals undergo fitness training of some kind. But what counts as a gym, or what people consider the ideal gym, has changed over time and is not seen in the same way across the world. Moreover, every gym is embedded in a different context with different realities, histories, people, and so forth. Thus, a more universal definition of a gym is an ambitious, unrealistic task. As Wacquant (2004: 13) indeed writes, “[a] gym is a complex and polysemous institution, overloaded with functions and representations that do
not readily reveal themselves to the outside observer, even one acquainted with the nature of the place.” Since the 1970s (though anticipated by historical developments long before [Smith Maguire 2008]), gyms have typically been unisex, supposedly non-competitive arenas for physical training and recreation. Fitness centers (an increasingly popular term for “gyms”) are cultural domains that nevertheless offer a novel way to engage with questions of bodily change. At gyms, change is actually felt and embodied, hoped, and planned for, under one’s control in some ways, resistant in others. A gym thus carries many meanings: some of them are overt, while some others are covert, veiled. In our exploration, we have uncovered the “overloaded functions and representations” (Wacquant 2004: 13) through a close analysis of our interlocutors’ narratives, which we collected in interview settings and through attentive participant observation. Putting our own bodies on the line as it were, we thus have been able to unveil some of the patterns of this very American yet increasingly global model of fitness practice.
At least, that was our plan in the beginning. Then, everything changed in March 2020 when the COVID-19 pandemic started. Suddenly, the world seemed conspired against the very existence of gyms. This book is about the primary role played by gyms in Americans’ everyday lives, including our experiences conducting research and working out within them. But the importance of gyms as fitness centers partly comes to light as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic, which led gym members to leave the gym behind in search of new ways to meet their fitness goals and to replicate their gym spaces. The key question, therefore, is what it means to change for the better when in the best of times and the worst of times. What difference does it make when the pursuit of health comes at a time of an unprecedented global health crisis? Related to this are questions we will explore throughout the six chapters of our book. Namely: what will become of all of the strategies that gym members who were forced to leave their gyms behind developed in the interim? Did they create secret spaces where they could exercise anyway? Did they meet outside to practice together? Will these people ever go back to exercise in closed spaces such as gyms? Is the era of the global gym over? This book will answer these and other questions through an analysis of the histories that we have collected from our interlocutors, gym members, managers, fitness enthusiasts, before and during the COVID-19 pandemic. Our interlocutors’ narratives and experiences make sense if considered within our own autoethnographic lenses, however, which add various layers of possible understanding of the realities emerging from these stories. Thus, throughout our book, we will zoom in and zoom out from our voices reflecting upon our interlocutors’ experiences and stories to our own voices as humans practicing fitness and participating in various gym-related activities. It is through the
accompaniment of our autoethnographic reflections that the everydayness of fitness regimes and practices thus becomes salient.
Josh: It is early June in 2019 and I am relieved classes are finally over and I can devote more days to working out at the Riverwalk. My plan is to do strength training three or four days a week, focusing on a specific muscle group using routines designed by my personal trainer, Morgan, whom I see once a week to work on form and learn new techniques. Each day takes me across a variety of machines and free weights. Six years ago, this was all foreign to me, but now I know how to use almost every device in here and am acquainted with the Anglicized Greek names of primary muscle groups (delts, quads, lats, pecs, biceps, abs, glutes …). I came to enjoy the helpful community vibe at the Riverwalk so much that I encouraged my new colleague, Sabina, to join up when she was looking for a place to go. But that was some time ago and now it is June. One day a week I do cardio, usually running for a half hour on the treadmill, but occasionally trying out a stationary bike, elliptical machine, swimming or stairs to spare my knees too much trauma. Morgan insists that I do no more than one cardio session a week to avoid losing too much weight, since I am trying to build muscle, something that does not seem to come as easily to my body as thinning out. I do additional activities to supplement strength training and avoid injuring muscles, which I occasionally strain by using a form that Morgan wouldn’t approve of or by forcing myself to lift too much weight. I try to eat a higher percentage of protein “macros,” which I track through an App on my phone, and eat fewer carbs and less fat. Once a week I also try to go to a yoga class at the gym with Whitney, and occasionally after a grueling workout I will sit in the hot tub and focus the jets on the places that worry me most, which are my back and shoulders. Both are cheaper than massage and all of these options are available at the gym.
In six months, my wife and I will cancel our gym membership and no longer see Morgan (though we will attend her wedding in 2020 via Zoom). I would have been gravely disappointed to know that I wouldn’t get back into a similar routine for nearly two years.
By April of 2021 the only thing I do for a workout is cardio, barely once, sometimes twice a week. I run outside in the area around our apartment complex, a mask in my pocket. I run along sidewalks and over bridges and give people additional distance
when I pass them. My runs are worse, harder to manage without treadmill-like specificity of knowing my exact speed and distance covered. I use an App, Run Keeper, that my wife introduced me to and uses frequently. It allows me to send an image of my run, in the form of a highlighted map, along with emojis showing how I felt afterward. She texts me encouragement, but I never feel better than “OK” and find myself gasping for breaths. I fluctuate anywhere from ten to fifteen pounds heavier than I was two years prior and feel weak and pathetic. I can’t believe how tight some of the clothes were that I bought for myself back then. Trying to remain positive, I don my mask on my walk back home out of courtesy and think about my next run.
Sabina: I first joined the Riverwalk in 2018 because my body felt neglected after so many years of working out by myself with nobody overseeing me or teaching me the correct moves. However, my fitness journey started when I was in my teens, or even earlier. At that time, I was engaging in various sport activities in school without really feeling the desire to improve my performances. It was mostly a way to play with my peers. I had no control on my body practices.
The first time I had the feeling that my body could improve its performance, and that I could perhaps control this improvement, was when I was seventeen. At that time, I was living in Northern Italy, where I was also born. To try various fitness activities, I had been taking bi-weekly ballet classes with an Italian ballet instructor, Roberto, who had been trained in Russia. One afternoon, we were practicing our barre routine while he asked us to raise our right leg up to our ear, by pulling it with our right hand. I looked at him, smiling, and said: “Roberto, I’ll never be able to raise my legs that high.”
He crossed the ballet room and came to me. I was at the barre, ready to continue the routine he had been teaching. He looked at me straight in my eyes. He smiled confidently. He came behind me and gently took my right hand. He directed it toward my leg which was resting on the barre ready to be raised higher. He said: “Your leg can go to the sky, and it can definitely touch your ear if you want to. You just need to believe in yourself. Now, listen to me, take your leg with your hand and lift it gently.”
I took my right leg with my right hand while he was guiding it through the movement. Once I lifted my leg from the barre, he powerfully pushed my leg upward until my calf touched my ear. I didn’t feel any pain, just a slight pressure. “See? You can
do it. Now try to keep it there without the help of my hand.” My leg collapsed when he let it go. “You need a strong core and stronger arms to lift your legs, but you can do it.”
That was the first time I had some agency on my body. I could direct my body to perform in the way I wanted for that particular move. I felt very powerful, physically, and mentally.
The day I signed up at the Riverwalk in January 2018, I didn’t have in mind to conduct an ethnography in that location. Nor did I have in mind to take any classes at the gym. I just wanted to keep my fitness journey going by using certain machines at the gym and by doing some stretching by just following my schedules. I just wanted to use the gym for quick sessions, especially in wintertime when the snow and ice cover the roads and make walking and other outdoor activities impossible. As soon as I signed up, however, I met some fitness instructors who invited me to try their classes for free instead of working out by myself. I did take various classes with all the instructors until I met Sophia, one of our main participants who will be part of several chapters in our book. I took various classes with her such as weightlifting, body blast, bootcamp, spinning, and step (see Chapter 3 for more details on fitness classes). One day, while I was preparing my fitness equipment for her class, I saw that she was taking very heavy dumbbells for herself. She is minute and fit. I looked at her and said: “Sophia, you are so strong! I’ll never be able to lift heavy dumbbells! I am very weak and I have long muscles for my past ballet training, as you know.”
Sophia looked at me straight in my eyes and said: “Yes, you can lift, Sabina, you can lift heavy dumbbells, too! You just need to believe in yourself. You can do it!”
At that moment, I had a powerful flashback. My body shook when I heard Sophia’s utterance. The same utterance was made by my ballet instructor when I was a teenager. At that time, I thought that I was not able to elevate my leg up to my ear. But Roberto proved that I was wrong. I immediately felt motivated and started a new fitness journey with Sophia and other gym members. Since that day, I have been taking classes with various instructors but especially with Sophia who teaches a wide variety of fitness classes as we describe in Chapters 2 and 6. Our classes were in person until March 2020, however.
As is clear from both of our autoethnographic vignettes, which we will explain in more detail below, regular gym goers were affected in a unique
way by various COVID-19 lockdown restrictions. While many public venues closed down as people were restricted to their homes, to reduce the spread of disease, gyms were the only places that suddenly changed to deadly spaces from the opposite, that is, sites of where people go specifically to acquire better health. That symbolic reversal was jarring for many of us, Sabina and Josh included, as we weighed the risks, in the early days of the pandemic, of going to the gym, which, initially, tried to find ways to stay open and serve customers, before being forced to close down entirely.
But people did not stop wanting to work out. After all, people found ways to work out as part of different fitness regimes that preceded the unisex, multipurpose gym we have today. The question was what could replace the gym? One answer came in the form of people attempting, like Josh, to work out alone, outside, or in their home, with more or less success. New devices became popularized for this purpose, home gym equipment like Peloton bikes. For many months during the pandemic, Amazon and other similar sites ran out of gym equipment and tools such as dumbbells, looped bands, standing bikes, and even treadmills. It was impossible to purchase anything, as it happened for some grocery items throughout the first year of the pandemic. In the meantime, new fitness possibilities were emerging, such as fitness groups finding ways to continue working out together, but at a distance, from various locations across the US and Europe. In the case of Sabina’s fitness classes, in early April 2020, Sophia acted rapidly and set up, out of nothing, a virtual space via Zoom “where” she has been working out together with Sabina and other gym members. Some of the members participate from across the ocean too. In this way, she managed to keep the group of her faithful members together even during very challenging times. Regardless of what strategy people who were once gym goers purposed, there was a sense during the worst of the COVID-19 pandemic of a before and an after. In fact, we learned from our interlocutors that working out is typically framed through a straightforward temporal horizon of before and after. This took several forms.
First, even before the COVID-19 pandemic hit the world, there was a sense of before and after going to the gym, in general. We heard person after person describe a time before the gym, when they were younger and exercise was something primarily concentrated in youth sports, followed usually by a time where they lost a connection to exercise only to regain their earlier enthusiasm or to develop an affection for fitness that they had not experienced previously. Sometimes, this sensibility was related to another one. People would talk about before and after they discovered the Riverwalk specifically, that is, what life was like before they found the positive community, training staff, and resources available to them at this gym. This became a dominant thread in the stories that people told us
and told themselves about their fitness journeys. Many of them, including some instructors, even referred to the Riverwalk as “their family.”
Second, many gym members talked about their own personal aspirations, about a hoped-for “after” that they were trying to make possible, whether to improve their overall health, lose weight, gain muscle, win competitions, or simply be more athletic. Working toward some goal, whether clearly or loosely defined, could also be framed as avoiding what they were like “before” just as easily as it could be about achieving an “after.” That is, some talked just as animatedly about not backsliding into previous behaviors and habits that characterized their time before the gym, before the Riverwalk, which they went through as a lived experience, not only as a life narrative. This was not purely hypothetical. Many talked about injuries or illnesses sidelining them for a time, in recent memory, and feeling less active, less fit, as a result, almost like a small encapsulation of the past, less-fit self that they once lived and they fear may return. As something that people embody, before and after can motivate people to work or work harder, to seek out trainers or join classes, to try new diets or fitness apps. Such lived temporality can make your body feel less like a static mass and more like a machine in process, on its way to becoming something else, different from either what it was once or what it is now. Our interviewees often mentioned their ideal body type, the muscles they wished to develop, the body masses they wanted to reduce, the strength they wanted to be proud of, their ideal weight, and so forth.
The way that people talk about gyms, whether or not they are gym members or even go regularly, tends to give them prime importance in fitness culture today. This book uses fitness centers, or “gyms,” as our central ethnographic sites. At least, that is how we began. After spending twenty months getting to know and interviewing gym members and employees at the Riverwalk, our project had to suddenly alter course. As we mentioned earlier, due to the spread of novel coronavirus (or COVID19), gyms around us and around the world immediately closed as some of the most “dangerous” locations for getting infected from COVID-19. Sabina remembers being on a spinning bike the night before our small gym decided to close with gym members anxious to know why this was happening. They were already asking when the gym would reopen. “It will be just for a couple of weeks; don’t worry; we don’t really know,” employees at the front desk were saying in a reassuring tone. In March 2020, millions of people were choosing to steer clear of their personal trainers and fitness centers. Our gym stayed closed for eight months, while trainers and clients moved to online forums, such as the now popular Zoom platform, for interaction and fitness practices. The Riverwalk reopened at
the end of October 2020 with a completely new approach, designed to reduce the likelihood of infection, and without offering any group classes or training until May 2021. What were the options, then, for gym fanatics and individuals who attended the gym weekly? How could they practice and follow their strict fitness regimes while in lockdown in their homes?
Now, quite literally, as our data show, self-improvement and selfdestruction have gone hand in hand (see Chapter 5). This is partly due to the growth of neoliberal capitalism and the related notion that selfimprovement is a cultural imperative. As anthropologist Carla Freeman (2011: 355) writes, “[b]odies under [neoliberal] globalization are sites of new modes of consumption as well. These range from changing habits of diet, expressed in expanding cuisines, changing nutritional profiles, eating disorders, and nutritional diseases, to transforming notions and forms of leisure, travel, sport, and entertainment.” And just as fitness gyms had once circulated the globe, spreading and shifting conceptions of wellness in their wake, so now had a disease that moved much faster, altering ideas and practices of wellness at a troubling pace. Our project followed these changes very closely. When we started, we met people endeavoring to change their bodies while fitness conditions stayed much the same. Then, all of a sudden, the main structures, gyms, where these practices and dreams were possible, collapsed. These changes at the level of the individual were dwarfed by global conditions shifting radically with stay-athome orders and lockdown policies. This provided a research opportunity for our project, which has also examined how people managed to keep changing their bodies when the primary means of doing so, gyms, had been altered forever, or for a long and indefinite period of time at least. What we discovered, as the crisis of the pandemic carried on and on, was that people were still finding ways to work out, to be healthy, to take care of their bodies, to practice on a daily basis, to aliment their body-related anxieties at an even more intense pace. Some of our friends and closest research informants, for example, were devoting themselves even more to fitness in fact, now without the use of gyms, some with incredible results and some to the point of what appeared to be self-harm. So, again, we had to ask, this time in new settings, at a dramatically different time in the history of wellness and self-discipline: what do people do with and to their bodies and why? Where can they perform their fitness practices to reach their fitness goals? Do they work out by themselves or in group settings? And what can this tell us about the sociality of fitness and wellness, when so much analysis and talk about these phenomena emphasize instead the individuality of the embodied self, striving to change? We will address these and other questions throughout the chapters of Pandemic Health and Fitness.
1.3 Phenomenology and Semiotics: A Theoretical Orientation
For the remainder of Chapter 1, our introductory chapter, we first explain how and why we chose to study gyms the way we did. We then explain the structure of the book, which, like our vignettes, will vacillate throughout between a before and an after. Before and after joining the gym, before and after the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, before and after the gym.
1.3.1 Phenomenology and Semiotics: Gyms as Habit Forming
This book takes both halves of fitness culture into consideration, both the bodily experiences of working out and what people say about working out, their affects and aches, stories, and speech. This makes our analysis a combination of linguistics, or semiotics more broadly, and phenomenology, or the study of our consciousness of experience.7
Semiotics and phenomenology might seem an odd pairing, especially since when philosophers and theorists have tried to articulate consciousness of and through things, they have often highlighted the failure of words and self-conscious representations more broadly to capture phenomena as they appear to us as we live in the world. There is a tendency, Morten Axel Pedersen (2020: 621, emphasis in original) argues, “among phenomenological anthropologists to accord methodological and epistemological primacy” to prereflexive or practical activity, meaning that “all language is relegated to the margins of analysis.” Indeed, some scholars turn to phenomenology precisely to get away from language and representation, to avoid restricting their analysis to humans—though this problematically treats all representation as alike (see Kohn 2013: 40). To be clear, experience and symbolic representation are not isomorphic. Action words like “sprint” cannot adequately convey, for instance, the way it feels when you push yourself to finish a run, sweat pouring down your face, your heart pounding as you swallow air in big gasps and swing your arms and legs in unison to make it just a bit further, just a bit further, before that blessed relief. Josh loves that feeling in a way that the literal word “sprint” does not and cannot represent. It is precisely for this reason that phenomenology has been important to ethnographers of exercise and exercise important to ethnographers interested in phenomenology.
At the same time that prereflexive, bodily activity is important for our analysis, language need not be marginalized in phenomenological analysis (Pedersen 2020). In fact, we found that language, in the form of narrative and storytelling, is a critical part of gym practices as much as is the feeling and flow of bodies in space and time. It changed Josh’s workout routine when he could think of his “lats” as different from his “trapezius” and to make sure he was focusing attention or “targeting” one, the other, or
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Scarcely was he in his grave than the fulfilment of these dying wishes was gravely imperilled. The Huguenots had sunk into almost complete disfavour at Court. Death and disaffection had played sore havoc with the leaders of their party. Du Plessis was in disgrace; one reason for this, among others, being his close friendship with de Thonars, who, in his turn, was a connection of the Duke de Bouillon, still in rebellion. Why, demanded the Court party, did he mix himself up with such persons? On the other hand, the disquiet of the Protestants increased when the King gave orders for the little Duke de Thonars to be brought to Court, so that he might be educated with the Dauphin.
This was a great blow to Madame de la Trémoille; the child was only five years old, and she had just lost her daughter Elizabeth. To part with the boy now, was to lose him for ever. He would be severed alike from every domestic tie, as entirely as he would be estranged from Protestantism. She would sooner see him laid in his coffin than this. Monsieur du Plessis bestirred himself to resist the project. He represented to the King that its carrying out would create a real grievance for the Protestants. Already the Prince de Condé had been taken from them, and was it worth while, for the mere sake of having the boy about the Court, to irritate the Huguenots further?
Henri yielded the point, and the child was allowed to remain at Thonars, under his mother’s care. At the end of her first year of widowhood, however, Madame de la Trémoille, in obedience to the repeated commands of the King, repaired to Paris, leaving her children at Thonars.
The mother’s heart was doubtless not a little cheered during this enforced separation by the letters which reached her from her little daughter, who was now about six years old. “In the midst,” says her biographer, “of grave family documents relating to the family of de la Trémoille—side by side with parchments filled with pompous titles, or lengthy enumerations of estates and seignorial rights—one feels a curious stirring of the heart at sight of the big round-hand characters, written on ruled paper, which commemorate the first attempts of a child destined to do great deeds.”
Here is one of the letters:—
“M , Since you have been gone, I have become very good, God be thanked You will also find that I know a great deal I know seventeen Psalms, all Pibrac’s quatrains, and the verses of Zamariel: and more than that, I can talk Latin My little brother[2] is so pretty, that he could not be more so; and when people see him, they are able to talk of nothing else but of him It seems a long time since we had the honour of seeing you Madame, I pray you to love me Monsieur de Saint Christophe tells me that you are well, for which I have thanked God. I pray heartily to God for you. I humbly kiss the hands of my good aunt, and of my little cousins.
2 The Count de Laval
“I am, Madame, your very humble and very obedient and good daughter,