In the iconic movie Rocky III, our hero travels to California to team up with his former nemesis, Apollo Creed. Both are ex-heavyweight champions facing a new threat: the vicious Clubber Lang, who had not only defeated Rocky but insulted Apollo publicly. In the ultimate ‘enemy of my enemy’ moment, Apollo starts training Rocky for a rematch with Clubber.
Apollo pushes Rocky to the limit during their intense workouts. In an unforgettable scene, a drained Rocky waves his hand and gives up. “Tomorrow,” he said, exhausted. Apollo famously snapped back that there is no tomorrow. This was the turning point in their training sessions, as Rocky made some realizations. I’ve made similar realizations not only because I’m similar to Rocky Balboa in many respects, but also because I have great friends like Apollo.
With these great friends I’ve enjoyed golden eras of grinding together — gym bromances, with one goal in mind: moving heavy objects. Including but not limited to sending each other YouTube videos about perfecting form, insane workout plan PDFs and elaborate recipes for protein shakes. These gym bromances have worked wonders for the quality of my mind.
Contrary to the bizarre narrative that guys should post more about their feelings for strangers on social media, genuine gym bromances are the more reliable route to a robust mind. If there is something a dude feels they need to vent about, confiding in a close friend after sweating under the squat rack seems superior to many ideas some so-called mental health experts push.
Take, for example, the popular meme lamenting that “men will literally do (x) before going to therapy.” I must admit some of them are hilarious. But the point it attempts to make misses the point when it comes to what makes men feel good. As far as I can tell, it’s rarely some forced online therapy session.1 It is sailing around the world in eighty days. It’s flipping tires with a friend.
It’s something like having a gym bromance.
Because through a shared positive adventure, like becoming physically fit, you always have a reason to feel good about yourself. Mens sana in corpore sano.2 And the beauty is there’s really no such thing as a bad gym bromance. You and ya boy end up getting hacked. You mind calms. And you’re more likely to avoid toxic things that lead to increased suffering in the first place—things guys often pseudo-bond over—like seeing who can get more hammered or cooked, gambling and referring to professional sports teams as “we.”
So get yourself caught in a gym bromance. There is nothing like it. But also know that like anything you love, it will cause you immeasurable pain when you lose it. Shakespeare never wrote a tragedy that came close to capturing the agony of one ending. But it’s okay. As I’m sure Rocky and Apollo would attest: It’s better to have gym bromanced and lost than to have never gym bromanced at all.
Needless to say, if therapy helps you out
“a healthy mind in a healthy body.” (Latin)
Shared suffering builds unbreakable bonds. RIP Carl Weathers!
Women bond face to face, men shoulder to shoulder.
I invited three of my close mates around recently to help me in my battle against a horrendously overgrown backyard. At the end of the day you would've thought they'd just been on a night boozing and not spending a full day doing intense labour in the sun - they were all estactic and said it was the best fun they'd had in a while.
Just four mates, standing shoulder to shoulder.