The iron never lies.
Henry Rollins
And yet hilariously, the iron has been calling us dumb this whole time.
Seriously though, out of all the things in the gym that could use a little bit of respect from us, why does history have to single out the most barbaric act of human intelligence and name it a… dumbbell? How about a smartbell, considering the life advice it dispenses? Or maybe a traumabell, reflecting the suffering of leg day?
Anyway, the hero in question, the humble dumbbell, is basically a metallic potato that refuses to communicate, thus earning the word “dumb.” It doesn’t applaud you. It doesn’t encourage you. It just sits there, waiting for you to grab it and challenge your entire existence.
And honestly?
Perhaps that’s exactly the point.
There is something wonderfully humbling about doing an exercise of that intensity with something that absolutely couldn’t care less about your form, your outfit, your heartbreak, or your GPA.
It just is… heavy, stubborn, honest.
Dumbbell and barbell exercises are the closest things to a superhero experience that I will ever have, without the cape, obviously… and the agility… and yes, the working knees too.
Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.
Haruki Murakami
But have you noticed how dumbbells make you perform the most ridiculous actions?
You walk into the gym with the intention of a wholesome workout, and suddenly you find yourself in front of the mirror doing a theatrical bicep curl that looks suspiciously like a gesture to summon some ancient devil’s pet.
And the pain?
Oh, the pain is quite… cute, I’d say.
But still, to avoid (or at least minimise) it:
- “Maybe don’t skip warmups.”
- “Maybe don’t flex when someone walks past.”
- “Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten that paneer tikka before the gym.”
But the biggest lesson is this:
Coolness is not associated with dumbbell lifting… until the pump hits.
After that, suddenly you’re Chris Hemsworth’s third cousin from jila (district) Jhajjar.
Growth looks slow and ugly before it looks impressive.
Dumbbells keep it real in a world where people are always putting on a show, just for basic validation from people who don’t even think about them (well, unless it’s past 11 or they’re ovulating). You just can’t lie to them, THE DUMBBELLS.
Maybe you can pretend your crush didn’t break your heart.
Maybe you can pretend your GPA is stable.
Maybe you can pretend you’re not spiralling down into nothingness at 2 AM.
But you definitely cannot pretend that a 30 kg dumbbell is light. The lift either goes up… or it exposes your whole legacy.
And that’s magnificent. We’re so caught up in the act of being adults that we forget growth is actually clumsy, sweaty, awkward, and full of weird grunting noises that definitely should not be recorded.
Dumbbells, these “dumb” things, actually force you to face the version of yourself who keeps going even when everything hurts. They don’t give you wisdom, but they definitely take it out of you like a therapist with worse lighting (hi Aabha, if you’re reading this).
Strength grows in moments when you think you can’t go on but keep going anyway.
So, back to our original question: why aren’t they called smartbells?
Because the intelligence doesn’t reside in the metal. It resides in you.
A dumbbell is merely a tool; a bright, somewhat harsh, gravity-powered metaphor for personal development. When you lift it, it brings you down to earth (because it’s heavy). When you leave it, it teaches you about your strengths and shortcomings. When you come back the next day, it still weighs the same because it understands that the only one who’s supposed to change is you.
And really? There’s something poetic about that. Something amusing. Something wonderfully human.
So, the next time you’re at the gym, vigorously working out like Kratos, shaking and doubting your whole character, acknowledge the truth with a smile:
Dumbbells aren’t stupid. They’re simply not loud. And, at times, the quietest things bring us the most profound and loudest lessons.
Discover more stories on Her Campus at MUJ. More articles by me coming soon at Vaibhav Chaudhary at HCMUJ; he who watches the world and its miracles closely, noticing what slips between moments, between the infinite realities.