Remind me to never go camping with Ashton Hall.
I’ll be sleeping in my tent at 4 a.m. He will be climbing trees and bench-pressing the trailer. Until this week, I had never heard of Mr. Hall, a fitness influencer in Florida. The only time I’m near a gym is when I pass one in the hotel en route to the lounge.
Hall is a behemoth. His arms wouldn’t fit into my pant legs. His pecs deserve their own area code. He seems to have four shoulders that seamlessly blend into a sequoia-sized neck.
And it all starts with a bonkers morning routine.
In a recent video shared on X, Hall detailed how his day begins. You may want to sit down.
3:53 am: He removes black tape from his mouth. No, I don’t know why there is black tape over his mouth. Maybe to suppress a primal scream? Or maybe this is about skin care or sleep apnea, even though he clearly does not sleep.
Seconds later, Hall brushes his teeth and gargles with Saratoga bottled water. Given the number of product shots to come, I’m assuming Saratoga sponsored his post. If so, with nearly a billion views across platforms this week, they got viral bang for their corporate buck.
4:00 am: Hall walks to his balcony for frantic push-ups and torso stretching in the dark. Back inside, at 4:42, he pulls a journal out of a desk drawer to jot down his thoughts. I know what I’d be writing:
“Dear Diary, I can’t live like this anymore.”
After journalling, it’s time for an inspirational sermon via his iPhone: “So we’re going to be serious about the Lord’s business!” At 5:49, Hall grabs a big bowl. He fills it with ice and more Saratoga water.
Then he dunks his face like he’s bobbing for existential meaning.
At 6:18, off to the gym. I am unfamiliar with treadmill settings. But based on how fast his legs are moving, he selected the speed “Chased by tiger.”
At 7:31, he dives into a swimming pool. The gym rat lingers another hour.
At 8:43, now shirtless again and admiring himself in a mirror, Hall eats a banana. Then he rubs the peel on his cheek, as one does. It’s like when I have a burger and squirt mustard in my eyes to see the world in a spicier way. What does Hall do after eating peanuts? Make a tiny bonfire out of the shells and meditate while silently trash-talking Zeus?
Now it’s 9:09. Hall is wearing a slick blazer. So, naturally, it’s time to dunk his face in ice water again. Avocado toast, scrambled eggs and bacon are served at 9:23, precisely 5 hours and 30 minutes after this maniac removed the tape from his mouth.
He could have watched the “The Lord of The Rings” trilogy before starting his day.
I am worried about these “gymfluencers.” They keep upping the ante on themselves. Back in the day, a trainer could bark “go for a run” or “curl free weights” and that was a wrap. You can’t say that stuff today on TikTok or Instagram and expect to rack up millions of followers, as Hall has earned by acting like he’s a POW behind enemy lines at GoodLife.
To go viral in this sweaty space, you need to be increasingly weird and extreme. Start your day by strapping on a helmet at 3:30 a.m. and running headfirst into the side of a barn. Why go for a leisurely jog when you can sprint backwards while wearing a backpack full of auto parts? Hang upside down for 30 minutes and then dip your toes in boiling water.
It will do wonders for your endocrine system!
I heard a guest on Joe Rogan’s podcast recently say he watched someone in the gym exercise so strenuously that the guy vomited. Then he kept working out. Hey, meatheads. “No pain, no gain” never used to include throwing up. That’s your body screaming: “Enough! We need to go home right this second and watch Netflix with a frozen T-bone on our head!”
These bizarre workouts and routines are unsustainable.
Ashton Hall is just 29. I want to see him pull this crap when he is 59. You know, when the Saratoga water has given way to Voltaren Pain Relief Gel. When his joints creak like floorboards in a Bob Vila teardown. When he needs a stool to tie his shoes. When those 8-pack abs morph into a skin beach ball. When the weight of real life gets heavier than all the kettlebells in the free world. When the only time he dunks his head is after face-planting into clam chowder because he nodded off at 7 p.m.
Mr. Hall, I beg you to try a new routine tomorrow morning that will change your life: Sleep in.
