Which gym tribe are you?

The Barry’s Disciples

What: Barry is an unlikely name for a messiah, but his global empire of high-intensity exercise has reigned since the first outpost launched in West Hollywood in 1998. Worshippers – 165,000 globally each week – squat, sprint and sweat to Tiësto and other Eurodance DJs as a headset-wearing coach preaches motivations over a mic. Hour-long classes (from £18) comprise 50 per cent treadmill, 50 per cent strength, with each day of the week dedicated to one specific workout: Monday might be abs and arms; Thursday could focus on the ass. Efficiency may as well be the scripture.

Who: It found fans in A-listers (David Beckham; Jake Gyllenhaal). Now it’s everyman’s mecca – reformed ravers and type-A personalities who want to get in, get their heart rate up and get out, no messing. The protein counter is the altar; find them here after class, swiping pre-ordered £7.50 coconut-milk shakes.

Where: From LA to London – its OG central branch is nicknamed “hell” – New York and Norway, there are now more than 80 nightclub-style studios in 16 countries around the world. Mirrored walls and red disco lights are requisite. A similarly high-octane mood can be found at Sweat by BXR in London and Doha (from £15), SoulCycle across the US and in London (from £16) and 1Rebel in London, Melbourne and Dubai (from £26).

The Namaesthetes

What: Whether yoga, Pilates or meditation, there’s an independent space for every design type – see Studio Anatomy, London (classes from £21), Open in LA (from $34) and Hagius in Berlin (from €28). For this discerning crowd, the Le Labo Palo Santo 14 scent and dappled light in each beige studio matter as much as the classes on offer. In these spots, you’ll find Reformer machines flanked by potted palms and reception desks topped with curvy sculptures and vases of freshly foraged flowers. The gift shops sell merch caps, Earl of East candles and snack bars from RXBAR or Nākd.

Who: Tends to skew female, with a penchant for black Lululemon Align leggings tucked into white Le Bonne Shop crew socks and Asics SportStyle sneakers. This group reads Goop, carries an aluminium water bottle in an oversized Sporty & Rich tote and chugs 10 types of supplements before class each morning. The sauna is their happy place.

Where: Such spots are the ultimate interiors #inspo and catnip for content creators: think Pierre Jeanneret armchairs atop raw concrete floors with tactile oatmeal rugs; solid oak lockers and private shower rooms. Palm Heights Garden Club in the Cayman Islands (membership upon application) is undeniably a visual leader in the space, but look also to Good Day Pilates in New York (unlimited classes for $369 a month). Cameras at the ready.

The Warehouse Warriors

What: Looking to lift? Forget your local community-run gym. For serious stackers, it’s all about the sparse warehouse setting: Condition in Manchester (from £25 a month), Barbell Brigade in Los Angeles ($125 a month), Bear Republic in San Diego ($179 a month). These big, black, boxy holes mimic abandoned airport bunkers, where machines and weights are stationed strategically to maximise workout ease. Music is minimal and changing rooms are fuss-free, mimicking a school locker room. The only colour you’ll find is the orange sled push track on the floor; the vending machine is a fridge filled with Grounded shakes.

Who: This CrossFit brigade goes to the pull-up bar as if they’re primed for combat – think Chris Hemsworth prepping for Avengers. The boys are either topless or exclusively wearing black, cut-off vests emblazoned with “training” in white lettering; the girls are in high-waisted 1.5-inch hotpants by Gymshark to accentuate the glute gains. All carry a tank-like plastic water bottle filled with electrolytes and eat boiled eggs like apples.

Where: Mostly found on industrial estates with car parks out front, these gyms’ geographical aesthetics are about as bare and brutalist as you can get without setting up a rig in the Barbican. Forge in London (from £19 a session) and Kawī Crossfit in Austin (from $25) are prime examples.

The Luxe Lifers

What: From a 6am Pilates class on the first floor to a lunchtime HIIT class on the third, enter the wellness kingdom – a sprawling home from home where, for a monthly fee of £300-plus, every health and fitness focus need is catered to. The sector was pioneered in the US by Equinox (from $285 a month), which now has more than 100 clubs worldwide and is renowned for its glossy, marble-clad interiors and slick set-up. The rapidly rising jewel in the crown, however, is Third Space (from £222 a month), which is expanding across London but intent on keeping its branch-specific, boutique feel.

Who: Mostly zen-conscious millennials working corporate jobs: find them taking a work Zoom in the café. You might also spot Paul Mescal on the treadmill in London’s Third Space or Paris Hilton squatting in Equinox in Beverly Hills.

Where: Enviably tiled changing rooms are filled with illuminated glow-up stations with Cowshed and Aesop shower gels and shampoos (below right), Cloud Nine hair straighteners and fresh white fluffy towels. There might even be an on-site facialist, a masseuse or IV drips on tap, administered by a registered nurse – Third Space Canary Wharf really has everything to combat office burnout. Why would you ever leave?

The Personal Trainer Posse

What: One-to-ones aren’t reserved for the rich and famous any more. Whether training for a marathon (look to Anthony Fletcher at Onetrack Club in London and Farnham), recovering from injury (try Dr Jordan Claybourne at Royal Personal Training in LA), or looking to boost your butt and biceps (Josh Betteridge or George Ashwell at The Lighthouse Club in London), the real fitness flex is to have your own trainer. Offering a sound schedule and even sounder guidance, they’ll give you everything they’ve got, from meal-planning advice to midnight pep talks. The jury’s out on whether they’re your instructor, therapist, mother or spouse.

Who: Very busy and important Oura Ring-wearing optimisers who are high-achieving, city livers and frequent flyers – think chief executives, company directors or actors for whom time is money. They might also be an only child who never learnt to share.

Where: That would be telling – these places are very “if you know”. Elite at being discreet, some – like The Lighthouse Club – have tiny gold lettering on the door rather than a billboard-like sign and require entry via a buzzer. In Paris? Gymate is a boutique oak-wood gym straight out of the Copenhagen design scene. Dedicated to private sessions, its studios are bookable online by the hour. Comfort, convenience and conscientious training are the ultimate in cool.