Just a message from your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man

The line to get into the gym after New Years resembled a nightclub as I pulled into the parking lot. The only difference was women were clad in tight-fitting neon (yet perfectly coordinated) activewear rather than the little black dress. Without intending to, I looked at my gym bag. All I had packed was my usual garb: a pair of stretchy pants, comfortable shoes, and a loose (but breathable) shirt. I’d missed the memo.

I made my way through the crowd and into the hall o’cardio. It is a massive...