“Oh hey, have you met my tits?”
The State Of The Union
My fellow Americans, we are living in a time of great crisis. An insidious wave made from the most basic struggles of the human condition has crashed into our beloved world of fitness. Refrain from pointing the finger at the yoga pants distracting you from your set of pull-ups, the backless female athletic tops which can hardly claim to possess a front either, or even the most dangerous nothing-but-a-sports-bra wearing squatter who will cry perversion at even the slightest prolonged glance.
No friends, these minor complications are not the problem, simply the consequence of the source. Social media has murdered fitness.
“But SMB, I happen to like yoga pants.”
Trust us, bro, we all do; however, this crisis runs deeper than those lycra tights…much deeper. Our current state of emergency finds its root in psychology.
What drives one to take a selfie? Or better yet, what drives one to chronically take selfies? The answer is far more simple than one would think and can be summed up with “Low Self Esteem”. The constant need for self-affirmation has been around as long as homo sapiens. However, never to this degree.
We would suggest that the development of social media has skyrocketed the number of thirsty fitness hoes to untold thousands (millions?). In the spirit of equality, closely trailing this number is the number of gym bros snapping shameless selfies, who’s grandparents are rolling in their graves and are probably second guessing every parenting decision they ever made.