When a fitness trainer in Singapore found himself banned from two gyms in a span of two weeks, he didn’t just vent his frustration on social media—he unleashed a tirade that exposed a festering wound in the fitness industry. Nihal, who goes by @bookofhamid on TikTok, claimed he was barred from 24/7 Fitness after allegedly being accused of ‘hiding the fact that he was training’ despite wearing a Garmin watch that showed his heart rate was elevated. His response? A rant that called the gym staff ‘fat fcks’ and demanded that all fitness chains ‘stop hiring fat fcks.’ What began as a dispute over gym rules quickly spiraled into a cultural critique that left netizens divided. Personally, I think this incident is a microcosm of a deeper problem: the way society conflates body size with intelligence, and how fitness culture often prioritizes appearance over effort.
At its core, this story is about the absurdity of gym rules that seem to exist more to enforce conformity than to promote health. The 24/7 Fitness website explicitly states that unauthorized personal training is not allowed, but Nihal’s case suggests that the line between ‘training’ and ‘just being there’ is arbitrarily drawn. What’s more, his accusation that the gym sent him a one-minute clip of him resting—cutting off before he started his set—reveals a systemic issue: the way gyms monitor their members, often in ways that feel more like surveillance than support. From my perspective, this highlights a troubling trend where fitness spaces have become battlegrounds for self-expression, with rules that feel more like social engineering than wellness.
The public reaction to Nihal’s rant is telling. Some people supported his anger, arguing that the gym was being hypocritical about enforcing rules while allowing other members to ‘hide’ in the background. Others, however, criticized his use of vulgar language, suggesting that his message was drowned out by the noise. What many people don’t realize is that this isn’t just about a single gym—it’s about a culture that equates fitness with thinness, and that often treats people who don’t fit that mold as outsiders. Nihal’s comment that ‘the fatter these motherf*ckers are, the dumber their brains be’ is a harsh reflection of a society that still clings to the myth that size equals intelligence.
This incident also raises a deeper question: How do we reconcile the commercialization of fitness with the human need for belonging? Gyms are supposed to be places where people can push their limits, but when rules are used to exclude those who don’t conform to certain ideals, they become prisons rather than sanctuaries. What this really suggests is that the fitness industry needs to rethink its priorities. Instead of focusing on metrics like BMI or muscle mass, it should celebrate the diversity of human bodies and the resilience of those who choose to work out, regardless of their size. If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just about gyms—it’s about the broader societal pressure to fit into narrow definitions of ‘success.’
Ultimately, Nihal’s story is a reminder that fitness is more than a workout—it’s a space where people seek validation, connection, and self-improvement. When institutions like gyms start policing bodies in ways that feel punitive rather than empowering, they risk alienating the very people they’re meant to help. What this incident implies is that the fitness industry needs to move beyond its obsession with appearance and embrace a more inclusive, compassionate approach to health. Otherwise, it risks becoming a place where the only people who feel welcome are those who already fit the mold. As someone who’s spent years in the fitness world, I can tell you: the real strength isn’t in the size of your muscles, but in the courage to show up, no matter what.
