I have a love affair with my gym. She’s not much to look at: a rubber track and weight room in a dank basement, but appearances aren’t everything. She’s there on my best days and on my worst days. We never fight, and she doesn’t care what I look like as long as I give her my full attention for a few hours a week.
I was talking with a fellow gym goer recently (the gym and I have an open relationship). He mentioned that whenever he is facing something frustrating, he goes to the gym. The gym is his form of therapy, and if I think about it, it’s my stress release too. So, I’d like to present my list of ten reasons the gym is better than therapy.
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