Commandment I: Thou shalt honor thy brethren in strength.
Occupy not the bench without labor, nor claim the squat rack whilst thou scrollest. Thy rest timer is not a lease agreement.
Handed down on a mountain of rubber flooring
Lift with honor. Re-rack with glory.
Long ago, on a mountain of rubber flooring, the laws of the iron were handed down. They were promptly ignored. Herein lie the Ten Commandments of the Gym — the etiquette every lifter knows and roughly half obey. Read them. Confess thy sins. Receive thy judgment.
Confess honestly. The iron sees all.
Occupy not the bench without labor, nor claim the squat rack whilst thou scrollest. Thy rest timer is not a lease agreement.
Wipe away thy sweat. The bench is a place of worship, not a relic to be anointed with thine essence.
He who leaveth dumbbells scattered shall wander the floor for eternity, seeking the other 17.5.
Preach not unto thy neighbour unless thy counsel be sought, lest thou become That Guy, whose name is spoken only in group chats.
If thy comrade waiteth, offer to work in. Muscle is multiplied in kindness, and so is thy rest.
Supersets are thy right. But three stations, a towel, and a water bottle holding a fourth is an empire, and empires fall.
Admire the form of thy lift, not the form of thy neighbour. The mirror is for checking depth, not for hunting.
Mock not the beginner. Thou too once pressed an empty bar, called it a warm-up, and needed a sit-down after.
Bellow not thy playlist upon the air. Nobody came here for thy podcast about crypto.
Offer thy hands when the bar descendeth upon the chest. But touch not the bar he can still lift, for it is his set and not thine.
Thy score is kept on thy device only. The iron judges; it does not snitch.
Verses too petty for the tablet, too true to omit.
Real answers about gym etiquette, delivered with a straight face. Mostly.
They are the unwritten rules of gym etiquette, here written down: honor other people's time, wipe down equipment, re-rack your weights, do not give unsolicited advice, let others work in, do not hog multiple stations, do not stare, be kind to beginners, keep your music in your headphones, and spot people who need it.
Re-racking weights. It takes about eleven seconds and prevents roughly a hundred percent of silent hatred. A close second is sitting on a machine between sets while scrolling a phone.
No. Asking to work in is normal and polite. Wait for the set to finish, ask between sets, and offer to change the weight yourself. Saying no without a reason is the ruder move.
Sixty to ninety seconds for most work, two to three minutes for heavy compound lifts. The rule is simple: rest as long as you need to lift, not as long as your phone needs to load.
Yes. Sweat is a bodily fluid, a bench is a shared surface, and the person after you is a human being. Most gyms require it, and in many places health regulations do too.
If the gym is empty and there is nothing else free, nobody will die. If squat racks are the scarcest resource in the building and people are waiting, take your dumbbells elsewhere and live a long, unbothered life.
Only if they ask, or if they are about to injure themselves in a way you can clearly prevent. Unsolicited coaching is the fastest route to becoming the person everyone avoids.
Go through the ten commandments above and confess honestly. The site tallies your sins and hands down a verdict, from Saint of the Squat Rack all the way down to Excommunicated.