Bench Press Diplomacy

How to coexist with New Year starters without losing your mind (or your spot)

Tis the season of New Year’s fitness plans and crowded gyms across the country. The time of year when the “I’m here six days a week and have been since the Clinton administration” must commingle with those just getting started. At the gym, I mean. And look, let’s be honest because we are all friends here, right? This annual migration is not just a seasonal feeling, it’s a measurable event. One poll says “exercise more” is the most common resolution for 2026, with 25% of Americans picking it.

And industry reporting routinely points to January as the month where roughly 11–12% of annual gym sign-ups happen, plus a big jump in visits compared to December. So yes, the squat rack is now a theme park ride and you are standing in line with a man wearing leggings and the confidence of a Greek god.

Although the new folks at the gym, the ones you can tell recently bought their new gym fit from Temu and are ready to start their new life, typically get along well. They’re excited. They’re optimistic. They’re carrying a brand-new water bottle the size of a toddler. They are here to “lock in.” They are also here to put a yoga mat directly in the walkway like they’re setting up a picnic.

Now, the tension doesn’t really come from the new folks. It comes from the veterans. There are those that get a bit agitated at the prospect of having to now all of a sudden share “their gym” with new folks. There is nothing wrong with feeling that way, especially if you had gotten used to having all, well, almost all the machines to yourself. I am sure the fact that your gym is now all of a sudden super packed all the time, it seems, has become a topic of discussion between you and your therapist.

There is nothing wrong with feeling like, “Fuck! Where did all these people come from and are those buttcheeks hanging out of her shorts?” I feel you. Because it’s not them that you are angry at. If you are around my age, it’s the change that you loathe. The sudden traffic. The sudden eye contact. The sudden realization that the gym is a public place and not your private training facility sponsored by solitude.

You even started going in a tad bit early to beat the traffic at the bench press, right? You became a 5:12 a.m. person “by choice,” which is the kind of lie we tell ourselves right before we start buying headlamps and talking about “morning discipline.” But then the new crowd found you. They always find you.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y6tzfVN4Kko

And that brings us to the real issue: gym etiquette.

There are those hard-won ones that we all know. Or at least you thought we all did. You thought we were all on the same page about wiping our equipment down when we use it. Or putting the weights back after using them. And if you must wait for a machine, you keep your distance till you see the particular piece of equipment open.

What we don’t do is stand right next to the person with our crotches in their faces giving them dirty looks till they get uncomfortable enough to abandon their workout. And here’s the thing. Some people act like they’re “waiting” but really they’re performing psychological warfare. Their strategy is to hover so close your headphone noise cancellation gives up out of stress. Their aura is basically: I have never heard of personal space and I am here to learn nothing.

Or even, going up to said person and having a polite conversation to let them know, “Hey big guy, let me know whenever you are done with that.” I mean, that’s what we used to do once when I was a young man with all the hopes and ambitions in the world, a full head of hair and perfect teeth.

Where was I? Oh.

If you ask me, in today’s modern gym environment, there never really is any reason to sit and wait for a machine. Even Planet Fitness has recently upped its game when it comes to gym equipment. (Also, Planet Fitness is now absolutely gigantic, reporting about 20.8 million members and 2,896 clubs as of the end of 2025, so yes, somebody’s auntie and your coworker’s cousin are both in there doing lat pulldowns right now.)

Now if you want to work on your chest, there are free benches, Smith benches, iso benches, and so on. Are you one of those “always working on my booty, ahem, I mean lower body” types, there are so many options. Dumbbells, smartbells. There really is no reason to line up for a machine.

But I understand that when it comes to workouts and workout machines/stations, we all have our favorites. Heck, I know folks that have their favorite spot at the gym. Really, their favorite place inside the gym that they must have to themselves whenever they are there and will not start their workout until they can have that spot. We are not going to judge those folks, as I believe each one of us in their life is on their own journey.

Although it does get tricky when you show up to the gym right around that 5 p.m. to 6 p.m. hour. You know, the time period I call the make-or-break hour. The hour that differentiates between whether you are just getting a workout after work like the boss bitch that you are… or okay, now it’s almost bedtime. And there is a gym bro in "your spot" and has been for a while and dude looks like he is not moving anytime soon.

He has “one more set” energy, which is gym language for, “I live here now.” Now, in a reasonable society, there are two sane options. You ask politely how many sets he has left, or you do something else and come back. But we don’t live in a reasonable society. We live in a society where people film content in the mirror and call it “raw footage” while carefully angling their lighting. So yes, there are some creative ways to help speed them along.

Well, you could simply just go and ask if they are almost done, but where is the fun in that? If you work in accounting or perhaps you sell Medicare policies to seniors, you need something to spice up your day, right?

Why not walk up to the guy, simply start doing your thing, and then try to get his attention and let him know that you are going to be working out next to him and by law, you are required to announce your presence and just put your AirPods back in, give no context or explanation, and watch him suddenly wrap up his workout.

Or, same moves but just let him know (while you are whispering) that you must let him know that you are going to be working out next to him and that you recently tested positive for COVID. Or that anytime you are going to be standing next to someone for a while, the State of, let’s say North Carolina, requires that you make certain medical disclosures and to let you know if he has any further questions. That should do the trick.

Now, let me be responsible for half a second (just half): please do not actually do the COVID one. Not because it’s not funny. Because it is. But because you don’t want to be the reason somebody’s group chat says, “Y’all… a stranger just whispered ‘COVID’ at me by the cables.”

Instead, here’s the actual cheat code that’s somehow become revolutionary in modern life: communicate like a normal person. A simple, “You mind if I work in?” fixes about 80% of gym tension. A simple, “How many sets you got left?” prevents the silent staring contest where both of you pretend you’re not mad, while your souls are fighting in the parking lot.

Also, if you’re one of the January starters: welcome. Seriously. You’re not the problem. The problem is when anyone, veteran or newbie, acts like gym equipment is inherited property passed down through a family bloodline.

And if you’re one of the “since the Clinton administration” folks: I get it. The gym used to feel like your quiet little ritual. Now it’s a festival. But the resolution wave is real, plenty of people are joining, and many plan to keep their memberships, too. So the best move is to adapt without turning into the unofficial mayor of Bench Press City.

We can all be tired together

January gyms are crowded because people are trying. Some are trying to build muscle. Some are trying to rebuild confidence. Some are trying to outrun their blood pressure. Some are just trying to feel like themselves again.

So yes, roll your eyes at the Temu fit. Laugh at the guy shadowboxing between sets. Silently mourn the empty gym you once knew. But also, leave a little room for the fact that everybody in there is carrying something, even if it’s just a 40-ounce water bottle and a dream.

Wipe the machine. Re-rack the weights. Give people space. Use your words.

And if all else fails, remember: there is always the 5:12 a.m. crowd waiting for you, sitting in the dark like disciplined little goblins, guarding the bench press in peace.

Medical Disclaimer

The information provided in this article is for educational and informational purposes only and is not intended as medical advice. It should not be used to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any medical or mental health condition. Always seek the guidance of a qualified healthcare professional or licensed mental health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition, diagnosis, or treatment. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay seeking it because of something you have read here.