Don’t Make Strange Noises
Welcome to my random musings about the world, on a weekly-to-occasional basis.
Where we are: We’re in Hiroshima, Japan. We were here a couple of years ago, just for a few days, and I remembered really enjoying it, so when Lee asked where I wanted to go on this trip, Hiroshima was at the top of my list. I would like to see the bits that are not the Peace Park (although I’ll definitely do that again—I feel very strongly that everyone should see it at least once).
Don’t Make Strange Noises
The gym in our current hotel is a branch of Anytime Fitness. Occasionally this happens, and I consider it a stroke of luck—a large city hotel has some sort of arrangement with a real gym, instead of the more-typical dinky little hotel gym, and I get to take advantage of a wider range of equipment without having to commit to a membership.
Plus a real gym offers a glimpse into actual local culture that can be more difficult to experience as a visitor (unless you inadvertently wind up in the hospital during your visit, which is both unrelated and less fun).
I’ve been to this Anytime Fitness three times, and each time I’ve noticed more and more expressions of Japanese-ness in the experience.
The first thing that jumped out at me was the signage, which I often find a bit overwhelming in this country. Every single machine in this gym has several laminated instructional signs neatly affixed. I did a bit of Google translating on my first foray, and concluded that one documents usage of the machine, another indicates that the machine is a ‘mobile-phone free zone,’ and a third reminds us to wipe off the machines when we’re finished, and return the settings to baseline. Larger signs scattered around the rooms remind us of basic good behavior—don’t make ‘strange’ noises, don’t play music out loud, don’t drop the weights, be considerate of other people.
I like the bit about strange noises.
Every single machine also has a timer stuck to it in a prominent spot. The message is very clear—don’t just sit there scrolling your phone or yakking with your buddy between sets. Be efficient and finish up, because someone else might be waiting. In other words, be considerate of other people.
This being Japan, the entire gym is impeccably clean. There is not a speck of dust or a crusty dried-up sweat splotch anywhere. There is always a cleaning person moving carefully through the space, wiping and mopping and tidying. I’m not sure what he’s getting after, though, because every gym member I’ve seen has been incredibly diligent about wiping down everything they touch. Even the mats in the stretching area are clean—there’s a sign forbidding shoes on the mats, and everyone uses a swiffer-style mop to sanitize after they finish their stretches.
I found it a little daunting the first couple of times I went—so many rules! So much social pressure!
But then I realized: it’s kind of the perfect gym for me. Every other person is doing exactly what I’m doing—focusing on their workout. I’m not getting in anyone’s way, and they’re not getting in mine. I went to use the leg press yesterday, and there was another woman using it. My brain started going down its usual frustration pathway, but then I realized—she’ll be done soon, because no one here is hogging machines unnecessarily. I went and did some rows, and the leg press was available when I finished.
To be clear, the guys in this gym are just as big and muscular as guys in any American gym. You can buy protein powder or creatine or any other kind of fitness supplement at the front desk. There’s as much testosterone swirling in the air as in any other weight room.
But I’ve learned something fascinating: being a jerk in the gym doesn’t make anyone’s muscles grow bigger. In a country where community responsibility is the bedrock of society, even the gym bros remember to be considerate of other people.
Take care,
Lisa
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