The Comedy of Crunches: Why We’ve Been Laughing at the Wrong Things in Wellness

Every Monday morning, you can see a routine at the gym that looks like a comedy sketch you've seen a million times before. The man in the corner is making a face as he lifts a weight that appears like it could crush him. The woman walked on the treadmill, watching the calories drop as if her worth as a person depended on the flashing red numbers.

Trainers shouting encouragement that sounds more like military orders than wellness advice: No pain, no gain!

It would be hilarious if it weren’t so sad. Or maybe it’s both.

That tension between the absurd and the serious, the parody and the truth, is precisely where EJ Neiman plants his flag in Faux Fitness: A User’s Manual for Being Human. On the surface, it's a humorous and witty book that pokes fun at the oddities that occur in contemporary health culture.

However, there is a greater purpose behind the jokes: to expose the misguided, over-marketed, and downright humorous nature of the desire for "fitness" and to suggest a better, lighter way forward.

Consider how we discuss workouts. We “crush” them. We “kill” calories. We treat soreness like a medal of honor. Supplements are marketed with names better suited to action movies, such as Inferno, Beast Mode, and ThermoBlast. Even rest has been commodified, with apps and trackers measuring how well we sleep, as if natural human recovery needs constant surveillance.

It’s a theater. And theater, as every good satirist knows, begs to be mocked.

In Faux Fitness, Neiman turns the language of wellness on its head. He shows how slogans, fads, and trends have become punchlines in a collective joke we don’t even realize we’re telling. The result is something rare in a crowded health space: a book that makes readers chuckle while making them think.

As one early reader put it:

“Finally, a health book that doesn’t guilt-trip me. It made me curious, and it made me breathe easier about my own routines.”

But here’s the clever part: the humor isn’t just for entertainment. It’s the spoonful of sugar that makes the medicine go down.

By parodying what we take for granted, Faux Fitness creates space for readers to step back and ask the questions they’ve ignored. Why do we equate soreness with progress? Why do we think suffering equals strength? Why do we believe that the harder we punish ourselves, the healthier we’ll be?

In satirical passages, Neiman exaggerates these beliefs until they break under their own weight, much like the gym-goer in his opening scene straining beneath an impossible barbell. Then, gently but firmly, he pivots to the underlying truth: that health isn’t about punishment. It’s about understanding.

Faux Fitness has a significant punch behind every laugh. The book is a criticism of a business that thrives on confusion, sells complexity, and rewards extremes. In a world where billion-dollar fitness companies churn out trends faster than most people can lace up their sneakers, Neiman insists on cutting through the noise with curiosity and common sense.

The satire draws you in, but the wisdom keeps you coming back for more. Readers learn why soreness is not necessarily proof of progress, why rest can be as revolutionary as effort, and why food, sleep, and stress belong in the same conversation as workouts. The book doesn’t tell readers what to do; it gives them permission to rethink what they’ve been told.

It's a mix of cultural critique, practical reframing, and a rejection of the harmful idea that "no pain, no gain." And in that blend, it finds a tone that is both new and vital.

Neiman’s authority doesn’t come from degrees or decades of training experience. It stems from being human, from the same frustration many of us feel when we follow all the advice and still fall short.

Like countless others, he chased soreness as proof he’d worked hard enough. He followed diets that promised clarity but delivered confusion. He bought into the cultural idea that health required sacrifice and suffering. And then, he realized the absurdity of it.

Instead of resigning himself to failure or latching onto yet another fad, he leaned into curiosity. What if the advice was wrong? What if the whole industry had confused marketing with meaning? What if health could be more straightforward and even enjoyable?

Faux Fitness is the product of those questions. It’s not a traditional manual, but a reframing of the one we wish we had all along.

The timing couldn’t be more relevant. We live in a world saturated with wellness content, influencer tips, Instagram workouts, and viral diets. Yet despite having more access to health information than ever, stress, obesity, and chronic illness remain stubbornly high.

People are tired of the noise. They don’t want another extreme program. They want clarity, honesty, and maybe even a little relief.

That’s why Faux Fitness resonates. It doesn’t add to the confusion; it clears a path through it. It doesn’t lecture, it invites. It doesn’t demand that readers laugh at themselves, but it shows that maybe the best way to break free from toxic myths is to see the comedy in them.

People who have read advance copies have commended the book for how well it balances wit and compassion: "Faux Fitness is bold, clear, and unlike any other health book I've read." It doesn't tell you what to do or how to accomplish it; it simply makes obvious sense. - Review by an Early Reader.

And for those who appreciate cultural critique, the book has drawn comparisons to the irreverent honesty of Mark Manson’s The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F--k and the accessible wisdom of Michael Pollan’s work on food and wellness.

It’s a health commentary without the heaviness, a fresh voice that cuts through both the marketing spin and the scientific jargon.

We may have been laughing at the wrong things, celebrating soreness, glorifying exhaustion, and mocking rest. Faux Fitness turns the joke around and reminds us that maybe the real comedy lies in how seriously we’ve taken ideas that don’t serve us.

The book’s gift is that it doesn’t just entertain, it liberates. It shows readers that they don’t have to buy into the myth of “no pain, no gain,” nor do they need to chase the following flashy promise. Health, at its core, is about understanding, not punishing.

If you’ve ever rolled your eyes at another fitness fad or wondered why “being healthy” feels so complicated, EJ Neiman’s is the book you’ve been waiting for.

We’ve been laughing at soreness, sweat, and struggle for too long. Perhaps it’s time to laugh at the myths instead and discover what proper health truly feels like. That’s the invitation of Faux Fitness.