Let’s be honest: we’ve all been there. It’s a rainy Tuesday in St Albans, the clock has just struck 5:30 PM, and you’re standing in the middle of a cavernous high-street gym that smells vaguely of industrial-strength floor cleaner and broken resolutions. You have forty-five minutes before you need to be home for the kids’ bedtime, and every single squat rack is currently occupied by a teenager filming a TikTok.