We Bonded Over Hating the Same Gym Playlist and Now We're Moving In Together

The day we met, the gym was playing what I can only describe as "aggressive European techno from 2014." You know the kind. The kind where the bass drops every 30 seconds and a robot voice says "EVERYBODY PUT YOUR HANDS UP" and you're just trying to do lateral raises in peace.

I was at the dumbbell rack visibly suffering. Not from the workout — from the music. I had forgotten my headphones. A cardinal gym sin, I know. But we've all been there. That vulnerable, exposed feeling of being at the mercy of whatever the front desk decided was motivating today.

And then I heard a voice behind me go: "If they play this song one more time I'm canceling my membership."

I turned around and there was this girl with a deadpan expression, also holding dumbbells, also not wearing headphones.

"You forgot yours too?" I said.

"Washed them. Dryer ate the case."

"Left mine on the bus."

We stood there in solidarity, two headphone-less souls trapped in a techno hellscape. And then the song changed to a WORSE song — one of those remixes where they take a perfectly good song and add air horns — and we both made the exact same face at the exact same time.

And she laughed. And I laughed. And that was it. That was the moment.

The Playlist Exchange

The next day she brought a small Bluetooth speaker (tiny, didn't bother anyone) and asked if I wanted to share. She played Fleetwood Mac. At the gym. FLEETWOOD MAC.

Reader, I fell in love immediately.

We started coordinating gym times just so we could share the speaker. She introduced me to artists I'd never heard of. I showed her my workout playlists. We judged each other's music taste (lovingly) (mostly).

The gym became our thing. Not the lifting — though we did that too. The music. We'd argue about whether metal or hip-hop was the better lifting soundtrack (hip-hop, she's right, I'll never admit it to her face). We'd discover songs together and text each other at 2 AM like "LISTEN TO THIS IMMEDIATELY."

When It Got Real

About two months in, she made me a playlist. Not just any playlist. A WORKOUT playlist. Personalized. With songs for warm-up, heavy sets, cool down, and a "final push" section that was so perfectly curated I genuinely got emotional on the leg press.

Nobody had ever made me a workout playlist before. I didn't know it was a love language but it absolutely is.

I asked her out that day. She said "finally" which means I had been oblivious for at least several weeks, which tracks.

Our first date was a record store. Our second date was a concert. Our third date was back at the gym because we missed our little speaker setup.

Where We Are Now

Fourteen months later, we're signing a lease next week. We have a shared Spotify account. Our apartment will have a small home gym setup in the garage because we refuse to go back to the main gym's playlist.

The gym still plays that same terrible EDM. Every time we visit, we hear it and smile at each other.

If you're on a fitness dating app like DateFit, put your music taste in your profile. I'm serious. Gym compatibility is one thing, but MUSIC compatibility at the gym? That's the real test. If you can agree on what plays during a heavy squat session, you can agree on anything.

Related reading: Should couples have the same fitness level? Spoiler: no, but they SHOULD have compatible playlists. 🎵