Sweat: A History of Exercise

by Bill Hayes

From Insomniac City author Bill Hayes, "who can tackle just about any subject in book form, and make you glad he did" (SF Chronicle)--a cultural, scientific, literary, and personal history of exercise.

Exercise is our modern obsession, and we have the fancy workout gear and fads from HIIT to spin classes to hot yoga to prove it. Exercise--a form of physical activity distinct from sports, play, or athletics--was an ancient obsession, too, but as a chapter in human history, it's been largely overlooked. In Sweat, Bill Hayes runs, jogs, swims, spins, walks, bikes, boxes, lifts, sweats, and downward-dogs his way through the origins of different forms of exercise, chronicling how they have evolved over time, dissecting the dynamics of human movement.

Hippocrates, Plato, Galen, Susan B. Anthony, Jack LaLanne, and Jane Fonda, among many others, make appearances in Sweat, but chief among the historical figures is Girolamo Mercuriale, a Renaissance-era Italian physician who aimed singlehandedly to revive the ancient Greek “art of exercising” through his 1569 book De arte gymnastica. Though largely forgotten over the past five centuries, Mercuriale and his illustrated treatise were pioneering, and are brought back to life in the pages of Sweat. Hayes ties his own personal experience--and ours--to the cultural and scientific history of exercise, from ancient times to the present day, giving us a new way to understand its place in our lives in the 21st century.

Genres: Nonfiction, History, Sports, Health, Science, Fitness, Historical

256 pages, Hardcover

First published January 18, 2022

About the author

The recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship in nonfiction, Bill Hayes is a frequent contributor to the New York Times and the author of several books.

A photographer as well as a writer, his photos have appeared in The New Yorker, Vanity Fair, Granta, New York Times, and on CBS Evening News. His portraits of his partner, the late Oliver Sacks, appear in the recent collection of Dr. Sacks’s suite of final essays Gratitude.

Hayes has been a Visiting Scholar at the American Academy in Rome, the recipient of a Leon Levy Foundation grant, and a Resident Writer at Blue Mountain Center. He has also served as a guest lecturer at Stanford, NYU, UCSF, University of Virginia, and the New York Academy of Medicine.

Reviews

[Melki · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've always considered exercise for nothing more than the sake of fitness (as opposed to rigorous training for a particular sport), to be a more modern phenomena, one that evolved out of necessity as our lives and occupations became more sedentary, but it turns out we've been "gym rats" a lot longer than I thought.

Hayes takes a look at exercise through the ages, exploring and experimenting with fitness fads, while still managing to visit plenty of libraries in between workouts as he searches for rare books on the subject.

I most enjoyed the chapters about author's personal fitness experiments - jogging naked and taking boxing classes, and his sweet memories about going to gyms with his dad.

[Olive Fellows (abookolive) · Rating 3 out of 5]

An ultimately unsatisfying book about different types of exercise and the author's feelings about them. I got some interesting nuggets out of it, but as far as exercise books go, I much preferred Let's Get Physical: How Women Discovered Exercise and Reshaped the World.

Click here to hear more of my thoughts on this book over on my Booktube channel, abookolive.

[Nicole · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is A history of exercise, not THE history of exercise. It is kind of a memoir of a gay man who sometimes researches, sometimes tries different sports. You won't forget he's gay, because he mentions it every few pages and, in the age of #metoo, I was surprised at his behavior and speech because they would not have been tolerated by a straight man. That said, when he actually reports on ancient exercise, the book can be interesting. But it gets bogged down by Hayes remembering a time he hurt his head swimming in a lake or how many of his lovers were impacted by AIDS in the 80's. The book might have worked if the author had picked one- memoir or history- but as it is it's just okay.

[Jarrett Neal · Rating 2 out of 5]

Read this book and about twenty pages in you'll find yourself shouting the same refrain over and over--SO WHAT?!?!. Bill Hayes is trying to put together some sort of book on the subject of exercise, yet the finished product amounts to a lot of flotsam and jetsam. It's as if he is trying to stitch a quilt with many different pieces of fabric, some rough, some smooth, some delicate, some heavy, and the result is a quilt that itches, doesn't provide any warmth, and is just plain ugly to look at. It isn't fair to call Sweat: A History of Exercise a hybrid text because Hayes's narrative swerves into so many tangents that half the time the book doesn't even cohere. I think Hayes is trying to stitch together ancient history, memoir, cultural criticism, anatomy and kinesiology into a work that strives to make an important statement about the role of exercise in human life. It certainly isn't what I assumed Sweat would be, and the book fails in many ways.

Most of Sweat amounts to Hayes writing about writing about the process of researching and writing about exercise. No, you didn't just read a big typo. This book is meta in the worst way, an agglomeration of high-minded historical facts that don't gel, solipsistic personal history, sluggish cultural criticism, and just a drop of homoeroticism that registers the heat of an ice cube. The most annoying sections for me where the long passages where he described the librarians and the various libraries he visited to gather material for this book. How does any of that serve the book's thesis? In the second half, Hayes tries to make his case by chronicling the exercise craze of the seventies and eighties, which works but it doesn't do much. Then he shunts in a brief narrative about the AIDS epidemic in San Francisco just to make a claim about why so many gay men are obsessed with exercise and fitness, but this is a fact his target audience will already know. Stories about his attempts to learn boxing and the classes he took to learn physical training hold interest, but the totality of this book is a shoddy mess.

When I read a bad book authored by someone with obvious ties to exclusive literary circles, usually in New York, I can't help thinking snarky, somewhat malicious thoughts. I wonder if Hayes wrote this book merely as a way to justify all of the globetrotting he did. I hate to say it, but if this book had been written by anyone other than the late great Oliver Sacks's partner, it probably wouldn't have been published. I suppose this is what being connected gets you, but everyone involved with this project should have known better.

[Stephanie · Rating 2 out of 5]

Unfortunately I wasn't able to finish this book as it wasn't at all what I expected. Instead of focusing on the history of exercise, Sweat focuses far more on Hayes' journey to write the book and his own fitness. Perhaps this would be well received by someone more in to biography but for me, given how little of the book is actually dedicated to the history of exercise, it missed the mark.

[MookNana · Rating 4 out of 5]

As with the author, it had really never occurred to me to consider the history of exercise. Aside from sport, I always considered deliberate exercise to be a relatively modern invention due to our movement toward an information-based society lousy with labor-saving devices. In a thorough exploration that included lots of travel and many ancient texts, the author investigates that premise and looks to the past to see what the physicians and thinkers of the time thought about exercise. He then considers his own experiences with exercise in that context.

The draw here is really the author's skill as a storyteller. The book covers a wide range of topics (everything from Title IX, AIDS, Jane Fonda, and a truly revolting ancient use for sweat) and it's really a testament to his abilities that I got so invested in his story of trying to get a library card in France. That was a recurring experience while reading this--I cared about things that, objectively, I had no real reason to, simply because they were written so well.

I was troubled by one bit of fairly harsh fat shaming. It was a direct quote from the classical texts he was reviewing, but it went entirely unchallenged in the author's commentary, which I think was a missed opportunity. People come in all shapes and sizes, plenty of fat people exercise, and no one deserves to have their body written off as inherently ugly.

This book would definitely be of interest to exercise enthusiasts, but also anyone interested in public health, renaissance and humanist thought, or just anyone looking for a well-written non-fiction book to expand their general knowledge base. This is an interesting text that goes down easy.

Many thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review!

[H · Rating 2 out of 5]

More memoir than history, not badly written just not what the title implies.

[Janet Hutchinson · Rating 4 out of 5]

An eminently readable history of exercise, touching on the many aspects and types of exercise, and interspersed with the author's own musings. Really enjoyed this. His musings as he looks at a Monet painting, while doing moderate walking, as prescribed by Mancini, a post Mercuriale doctor (you need to read the book to get the reference)….”that is how to paint as it is how to live - to the very border. Make a mess of it if you must. Just don’t leave anything blank.” Good advice.

[Thomas Beard · Rating 5 out of 5]

These kinds of history-slash-memoir books are hit or miss for me. I guess it's the authors themselves that make the difference. Hayes is great and really carries the book, switching nicely between historical research and personal nostalgia.

[Katie · Rating 2 out of 5]

A nonfiction book about the history of exercise, mostly focusing on the oldest developments and not so much the 20th century and beyond.

I thought it was interesting in places, but it's one of those books that could've been an article. Lots of the author doing research in libraries, and what the various libraries and librarians were like. Lots of filler.

I thought the old stuff was interesting in limited amounts, but missed reading about more recent developments in exercise history.

[KDUB · Rating 1 out of 5]

Trails off on random tangents. This author can’t seem to decide if this is a memoir, nonfiction, history book, etc. It’s all over the place and so poorly organized.

He also spews some bs with many weak arguments and gross oversimplifications such as, “One is far more likely to lose weight by drastically reducing calories.” He offers no footnote, citation or elaboration on this. This self indulgent narrative and sporadic storytelling makes this one of my least favorite reads probably of all time.

[Trefor H Jones · Rating 5 out of 5]

Enthralling

A beautifully structured, entertaining and erudite book. I can't recommend it highly enough. I read it almost in one sitting, not my usual skimming of pages, rather appreciating each page. I accept that as a life long exercise nut who also happens to really like libraries and archives It's the perfect read for me. Beyond that I'd recommend it to anyone who enjoys a good read. Fascinating

[Mark · Rating 3 out of 5]

I bought this after reading a glowing review in one of the broadsheets. It is fascinating in parts but also massively self-indulgent. His references to Mercuriale were the highlights for me. It would have been interesting if he had spent more time interrogating how exercise seems to have been fetishised in prosperous countries whereas in many others it is necessary for survival.

[Kelli Humphries · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the third book by Bill Hayes I've read - the others being Insomniac City and How We Live Now. I've enjoyed Bill's writing style and found Sweat to be no different. While I found the history portion interesting, I found the personal stories and anecdotes to be most enjoyable.

[MK LaFs · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not going to say this was the main reason I signed back up for Yoga classes but this was a contributing factor.

[Libby Beyreis · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a fine book, but I didn't feel like it delivered on the title. Instead of being a history of exercise, it was more of a memoir of the author's relationship with exercise and the process of researching the book. It wasn't bad, it just wasn't the book I wanted to read.

[Paul · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love everything Bill Hayes writes, even when it's really really sad. Luckily, I already knew about all the sad stuff that happens in this book (including the COVID-19 pandemic) so I could just enjoy the way he researches his topic and the way he tells his story. It even made me decide to do a little exercise.

[Paula · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lot more introspective than I expected and a heavier focus on the classical period but picked up for me in the second half as I got more used to the tone and different periods of exercise history were explored.

[Brittany · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoy this author’s approach to nonfiction writing - one of my favorites of his!

[Matt · Rating 1 out of 5]

Occasionally an actual review of the history of exercise, though it lapses into (very) long memoir-ish segments about the author's various trips and his interior musings while he learned about the history of exercise in ancient Greece and Rome. He then skips a couple centuries and discusses mid-2oth century America before another long memoir section about AIDS, his own closeness to many victims, and the toll it took on him and his community. All of which would be fine, except the book is billed and advertised and excerpted as "A History of Exercise" and not "A memoir of Bill Hayes learning about exercise in Ancient Greece" which is not something I would've read.

In short I'd guesstimate the number of words spent on the history of exercise post-1900 is equivalent to the number of words he spends describing various libraries and librarians who he meets during his research.

[B. · Rating 3 out of 5]

I received an ARC of this one through a Goodreads Giveaway. The history of exercise traced through historical documents were fascinating. I could, however, have done without Hayes' own descriptions of his personal workouts. Honestly, it's like every gym rat in the world thinks that someone else cares about what exercises they are doing and that's just not the case. If it had been more seamlessly integrated with the historical elements, I might have been able to tolerate it better, but it was very choppy - "look at me, I work out" - history - "oh, I'm doing stuff again" - history. I cared less about his own personal stories than I do about a seven-year-old's two-hour rendition of a five-minute Minecraft video. If his own personal nonsense was taken out of the book entirely, this would have been one to keep, as it is, it is most definitely not.

[Jane K · Rating 3 out of 5]

I guess I'm not that interested in the history of exercise. I did love the more personal aspects though. Bill Hayes is a beautiful writer.

[Greg McAllister · Rating 1 out of 5]

This was one of the worst books I've ever read. I don't understand what the purpose was. The author intertwines his personal stories that aren't terribly relevant into a journey to find historical evidence of exercise prior to 1950 while not sharing said evidence with the reader in a clear manner.

I would prefer to read Dora the Explorer to a three year for the duration it took me to get through this steaming pile of ****. Do yourself a favour and find a hobby you don't enjoy rather than reading this book.

[Steve Plamann · Rating 2 out of 5]

Bill Hayes puts the "I" in exercise. A big chunk of this book is about him and his history with exercise. Another large chunk is about his travels and travails in researching the book. Neither are very compelling. This book hits its stride in the moments when Hayes moves past himself to actually tell the history of exercise. Unfortunately, those moments aren't nearly frequent enough.

[Frank Wu · Rating 2 out of 5]

Pretty disappointing. It starts off strong with interesting well researched materials about the history of exercise....then veers into a personal memoir of his journey exploring different things as a middle age gay guy.

Not to say it's not interesting...but not what I expected. Would had made for say a long New Yorker article instead of a book

[Douglas H · Rating 2 out of 5]

A lightweight amalgam of memoir, travel narrative, and scholarly research, which is neither deep nor engaging. The title is very misleading. Much of "a history of exercise" is his OWN history -- not what one would expect, given the book's title. Forgettable.

[Craig Immorris · Rating 3 out of 5]

Weird hybrid of non fiction mixed with personal story telling. Not much to learn other than some personal anecdotes of authors personal exercise journey

[Clara Mazzi · Rating 3 out of 5]

Bill Hayes, l’autore, è stato il compagno (primo ed ultimo!) di Oliver Sacks, il famosissimo psichiatra che scrisse: “L’uomo che scambiò la moglie per un cappello”. Oliver non sapeva nemmeno di essere gay, così come aveva praticato la sua sessualità per più di tre decadi (!) quando un bel giorno incontra Bill (Hayes, l’autore), un giornalista di trent’anni più giovane di lui. Questo giusto per collocare velocemente Hayes, di cui non so molto, ma questo aneddoto me l’ha ingraziato rapidamente (avendo io molto amato Oliver Sacks).
Il suo libercolo è uno scritto di intrattenimento, carino ed intelligente. Rintraccia la storia dell’esercizio fisico che dopo l’apogeo greco, cade in letargo per causa (colpa?) del Cristianesimo, che lo vede di mal occhio. Fu solo nel corso del 1600 che viene recuperato, da un medico italiano, tale Mercuriale (il medico personale dei Farnese), che scrive un libriccino in cui spiega come l’esercizio fisico possa aiutare molto a mantenersi in salute. Il successo di questo libro è da attribuire alle fantastiche illustrazioni di un altro artista italiano, un architetto, anche lui un dipendente dei Farnese che però cade in disgrazia, non si sa se per sua responsabilità o per invidie di terzi (era il diretto concorrente di Michelangelo). Com’è come non è, Bill Hayes decide di andare a cercare l’originale, cosa che lo porta a Parigi e poi all’Isola Bella e racconta (riecheggiando con grazia e alla lontana il Codice da Vinci) la magica esperienza di ritrovarsi in queste sale speciali (e blindatissime) riservate per i libri rari e soprattutto di come sia difficile l’accedervi e poi delle complicate cerimonie di lettura.
La narrazione poi procede nel corso dei secoli e segue lo sviluppo della storia dell’esercizio ginnico, approdando nella Svezia d’inizio secolo, fino alla recente esplosione delle palestre, non tralasciando il boom dell’aerobica conosciuto grazie a Jane Fonda, che inventa l’esercizio in casa tramite tv (ripescato in epoca di Covid, sostituendo alla tele il computer).
Il libro si chiude con un commovente pellegrinaggio in Grecia, per visitare i luoghi delle Olimpiadi, dopo la morte di Oliver Sacks che ha gettato Bill Hayes nel rifiuto dell’esercizio fisico (lui, che era un tale patito da prendere addirittura il diploma di personal trainer) per molti anni e che ha ripreso solo dietro imposizione medica a causa della pressione alta.
Il ritorno all’esercizio in un’altra fase d’età e con altre motivazioni che non fossero quelle precedenti (di avere un bel corpo tonico per fare colpo) lo riavvicina a sé stesso e gli permette di elaborare il grande lutto per il suo compagno (anche se non esplicitamente dichiarato).
Ribadisco, un libro grazioso, di intelligente intrattenimento.

[Carin · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a really interesting book. About 2/3 of it is about the history of exercise, as promised. However, 1/3 of it is about Mr. Hayes’ research and a bit memoir-y. In a way, it can’t help but be this way because his research was necessarily haphazard and peripatetic, as there isn’t much history of exercise, and what there is is scattered around and often has gaps of several centuries. It’s in so many foreign languages, and is classified differently–some centuries it’s a sport, some it’s considered health, and others it’s more of an art. It’s actually difficult and often serendipitous that he finds anything at all.

He also discusses how he got into exercise, different types of exercise he’s done at different points in his life (weightlifting, yoga, swimming), and how after his partner, Oliver Sacks, died, he just… stopped for many years.

But he does get back to it. As we all should, who value our health. And this great history can help inspire us in that endeavor. Want to know about the early Olympics? About how exactly they did everything, including things like running, naked? (I know, that doesn’t seem like a big question but running with no support at all is not something that makes a lot of sense until he tried it.) About early bodybuilders? About when exercise fell out of fashion and why?

This book was riveting and yet also calming. And it changed the way I work out! He reminded me that doing the same thing over and over–your body gets used to it and doesn’t get much out of it any more. So this week I’m changing up my routine and doing all exercises I haven’t done last week (some I haven’t done since pre-pandemic). Check it out. Your body will thank you.

[Tweela S. Houtekamer · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was fascinated by descriptions of Hayes' extensive research and particularly his description of what is involved - e.g. detective work, extensive travel, connections, protocols to follow, the need for sponsorship, and a bit of luck - in historical research. I enjoyed learning about 16th century writer, Mercuriale, especially as his work led Hayes forward and backward in time looking at the attitudes toward and evolution of exercise. Unfortunately, I believe there could have been a little less information about this research work and a little more content regarding what was actually discovered or learned.
Personally, I found that the extensive inclusion of Hayes' personal stories, while interesting at first, became somewhat intrusive. I had not expected the book to be autobiographical to the extent that it was. I was perhaps also looking for a bit more information about women and exercise through the centuries and a little less about the reactions of a homosexual male to ancient sculptures and artwork depicting men captured in active "exercise/sport" poses, Hayes' lifelong exploration and mastery of various sports and associated injuries, or his experiences with AIDS and loss. While these stories are interesting , perhaps instructive, they seemed somewhat self-indulgent, even self-aggrandizing, in a work claiming to be about the history of exercise. The book might more appropriately be called "Sweat: My Personal History of Exercise".
An interesting read but not one I will keep on my bookshelf.