How Loud Is Too Loud? (Asking for a Friend at the Gym)

What a stranger, a sitcom, and 3kg dumbbells taught me about boundaries

Hi friend,

A few weeks ago, I was working out at a hotel gym.

(Now, wait a minute. Before you judge – my husband and I have a €50 bet on who breaks our workout streak first. Ever been married? The competitiveness rivals Monica Geller playing ping-pong. On a double espresso.)

After an intense family gathering, 15k steps pushing a stroller between road trips and sightseeing, I craved solitude. A moment to breathe.

The gym was small but had the basics: a treadmill, dumbbells, floor mirrors. The underground location and slightly dusty kettlebells suggested this wasn't exactly a hotspot for hotel guests. Perfect for unwinding in quiet.

And let’s be honest — who hits the gym in peak holiday season anyway?

Only a freak. Or someone in a marital bet situation. (With competitiveness issues.)

It was exactly what I needed.

I’d just warmed up on the treadmill and was pretending to be getting busy with 3kg weights when suddenly —

A man walks in.

I freeze, dumbbell mid-air. He freezes mid-entrance.

We lock our eyes.

Then, shaking off the mutual surprise of the unexpected encounter, he tosses me a casual “hi”, hops on the treadmill and…

…turns the TV on. LOUD.

You guys.

I hadn’t even seen the TV.

And even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have dared to touch the remote.

And this man just…claimed it. He starts flipping channels: news click, diaper commercial click, half-naked people on a tropical island click, The Big Bang Theory – ahhh, we have arrived at our destination.

After all, what says peaceful gym moment better than an invisible audience laughing off-screen every thirty seconds at max volume?

My body continues giving a-weak-woman-version-of-a-biceps-curl, but my mind goes — ehhm, excuse me, mister???

The audacity! The inconsideration!!!

I’m putting on my imaginary boxing gloves. I’m getting ready to verb-pounce, heart rate rising alarmingly fast. Oooooh, he’s going to hear from me now–

Sheldon explaining why someone is wrong stops me mid-thought.

Oh, this is a good episode… He just broke up with Amy... When did I last watch a rerun?

He could have at least asked if I was okay with it!!!

I do love this show, though. So familiar, so comforting…

He should at least turn the volume down!

But okay, technically, I don’t own this gym, do I?

And gyms aren’t really designed for introspective silence, are they?

So what's really happening here?

Are my boundaries being violated? Or is this decades of self-abandonment disguised as anger at a man who just happens to be feeling comfortable?

Am I bothered enough to endure the awkwardness of asking him to turn it down? Or do I surrender — go with the flow, find joy in new circumstances, reframe what life throws at me?

Standing there, sweaty and puzzled, torn between Sheldon and my principles, I start to realize this episode echoes hundreds of similar scenes I’ve lived. It's always the same story: someone crosses an invisible line, I feel that familiar surge of indignation, then immediately start questioning whether I have any right to feel it.

Boundary touched. Reaction rises. Doubt kicks in. Confusion follows. Inaction, again.

Where does flexibility end and self-gaslighting begin?

The classic story of modern womanhood. A dance between asserting space and wondering if we’re “too much” for doing so. We question our reactions, play out conversations in our heads, and still leave unsure if we kept the peace or betrayed ourselves.

Truth be told — I’m still learning to tell the difference between being easygoing and abandoning myself.

I looked in the mirror — here I was, half-present, half-resentful, fully confused. The workout, combined with the internal debate, was too much heavy lifting for one evening.

I finished my exercises, grabbed my water bottle, and headed for the door.

Next time (because there's always a next time), I think – I hope – I'll know a little sooner whether I'm being flexible or just being quiet.

In the meantime, I’ll be mentally replaying the scene and rewriting my imaginary comeback lines in the shower.

What would you have done?

Let me know,
M