Halloween at the gym: the five costumes that already come to train every week

Saturday, October 31 is Halloween. Outside of the gym, that means pumpkins, candy and people in costumes on the street. Inside the gym, there is no need to buy anything: the costumes already come to train every week. You just have to know how to recognize them.

Here are the five that are in any box. If you don't recognize any, that's a bad sign: it's probably you.

1. The ghost: the one who thinks he is the coach

It is not. It never has been. He doesn't have any title. But each class appears behind you, silently, like ghosts, and whispers:

—That hip, huh. Further back.

The real coach is explaining the WOD on the board. The ghost is explaining the WOD at the same time, in another corner, with another version. He has the new ones cornered in the warm-up:

—You listen to me, I've been here since 2019.

The curious thing about the ghost is that he gives advice non-stop, but no one has ever seen him do the exercise he explains. He corrects your muscle-up and he does jumping pull-ups. He explains how to breathe while rowing and he gets off at 300 meters to drink water. He tells you how to break the wall balls and then disappears just when it's his turn. That's why he's a ghost: he's everywhere except in his bar.

How ​​to detect it: start all sentences with "what I would do...".

How ​​to survive him: smile, nod and do what the real coach says, the one who wears the gym shirt and gets paid for it.

2. The zombie: the one from the 6:30 class

He arrives with his eyes half closed, coffee in hand and brain still in bed. You explain the WOD to him and he responds “okay” to everything. You ask him how many rounds it takes and he replies “okay.”

He does the entire training, yes. Zombies don't get tired, they just move forward. But then he doesn't remember what he did. Write down a result on the board that could be yours, someone else's, or from yesterday's class.

How ​​to spot it: Look for the blank stare at the bar at 6:45 on a Monday.

How ​​to survive him: don't ask him to count your reps. Not even yours.

3. The superhero: the one who records everything

It has a tripod, four angles and a ring light in the backpack. Before each series he places his phone, checks the frame, gets serious and gets up. Then he reviews the video, is not convinced by the light and repeats.

His superpower is to appear on your Instagram stories without you asking him to. If you made your best mark on Tuesday, he comes to the fore. You, in the background, out of focus and with a red face.

How ​​to detect it: when the coach says "3, 2, 1, go!", he is still looking for where to put the cell phone.

How ​​to survive him: ask him for the video. At least it's of some use.

4. The villain: the coach

This is the real one. He smiles as he writes something on the board that doesn't fit into an hour. He says "it's short." It's not short. It says "soft today." Today is not smooth.

When someone asks if it can be climbed, he laughs a little. That laugh, in a movie, would sound with thunder in the background.

The villain doesn't need a costume. With a whiteboard and a marker it's already scary. And yet, at the end of the month, you pay him. That's the most terrifying thing of all.

How ​​to spot it: Ask “Is everyone okay?” when everyone, clearly, is on the ground.

How ​​to survive him: Never ask him if there is much left.

5. The mummy: the one who is bandaged from top to bottom

Wrist guards, knee pads, tape on the fingers, a bandage on the elbow and another spare wrist guard in the backpack. If you take everything away, you don't know if there's anyone left inside.

Before each exercise he tells a three-minute story about an annoyance he had in 2023. Then he does the exercise perfectly.

Be careful: if the injury is real, it is not a disguise or a joke. Climb, tell the coach and don't play the hero. We already have the hero, and he is recording.

How ​​to detect it: It takes longer to bandage than to warm up.

How ​​to survive him: don't ask him "what happened to you?" You have to be out before nine.

What if you want to dress up for real?

If your gym does a themed class on Saturday, go ahead. But with three rules:

• Nothing dangling. Capes, tails, scarves and wigs get caught on the bars and rings. If it moves when you run, it stays in the locker.
• Nothing that covers your mouth. With a closed mask you don't breathe well and you can't tell if something is wrong.
• Training shoes are not touched. Costume boots at a clean are the quickest way to spend Halloween in the emergency room.

A WOD for Saturday: “Trick or thruster”

It is not an official training. It's an idea for the class of '31, if your coach is okay with it:

12 minutes, as many rounds as you can of:

• 12 thrusters, with a weight that you can move without ending up like the zombie
• 12 box jumps (or climbs, if your knees have the say)
• 12 abs

And the secret rule: the ghost has to do it in its entirety, without giving a single piece of advice. If you open your mouth to correct someone, add 5 burpees. No one has ever finished it.

In the end

Sweets after training, not during. A banana halfway through the WOD is still a better idea than a handful of jelly beans.

Halloween lasts one night. the gym ghost, the one that explains how to do the exercises, lasts all year round. On Saturday, at least, let him go with a sheet.