LOS ANGELES — The gym evokes a classic Venice Beach vibe. There are no necks in sight but numerous biceps that are bigger than baseballs. There’s someone lifting in head-to-toe neon with a helmet/mask combo atop their head. The doors lift like garages and are flung wide open, giving the massive space an open-air feel.
And the barbells. Good lord, this collection of barbells, thousands sitting stacked or being raised next to signs that scream things like: TONIGHT WE SQUAT IN HELL. It’s the kind of place that no normal, reasonable person would work out in, lest they risk embarrassment standing near the ripped and the giant, the soundtrack essentially a symphony of grunts.