In South Korea, the rhythmic pounding of running shoes on pavements has become more than just a way to stay fit—it’s a cultural movement, especially among the MZ Generation, which encompasses both Millennials and Generation Z. These young adults are at the forefront of a fitness boom, where running is no longer just about physical health, but a platform for social validation, consumerism, and competitive self-expression.
Luxury running shoes and high-performance gear from brands like Nike and HOKA have become status symbols for the MZ Generation, with purchases often motivated by a desire to display personal achievement and style. This trend is fueled by social media, where platforms like Instagram serve as stages for participants to showcase their fitness journeys, not just for health reasons, but also to gain admiration and approval from their peers.
Interestingly, while Millennials are driven by their relatively stable income and career positions to flaunt status through high-end products, Generation Z leans more towards self-expression and community engagement through fitness. Yet, both groups share a common thread—running and fitness have become arenas for social comparison and identity-building, as participants strive to meet not just their personal goals, but also society’s expectations.
Amid this competitive atmosphere, a humorous and relatable coping mechanism has emerged in the form of terms like “런린이” (running newbie) and “헬린이” (gym newbie), which allow beginners to embrace their inexperience with humility and humor. These self-deprecating labels reflect a desire to participate in the culture without succumbing to the pressures of perfection.
MZ Generation’s Running Boom and Consumer Behavior
The MZ Generation in South Korea is not just fueling the fitness boom—it’s transforming it into a highly competitive and consumer-driven culture. For this demographic, running has become a fusion of personal health, fashion, and status display, particularly through the purchase of high-end athletic gear.
Brands like Nike, HOKA, and Asics have tapped into this cultural shift by releasing premium products that blend performance with style. For the MZ Generation, running shoes and sports apparel are no longer seen as mere workout gear, but as status symbols—a reflection of their commitment to health, style, and upward mobility. A growing number of young Koreans are investing in luxury running shoes, which have become some of the most coveted items among fitness enthusiasts.
Asics, in particular, stands out in the South Korean market. Known for its high-performance models such as the GEL-Nimbus and GEL-Kayano, Asics is favored by serious runners for its superior comfort and durability. However, it has also become a luxury status symbol among the MZ Generation, who view Asics as the perfect blend of function and fashion. With recent collaborations and limited-edition releases, Asics is gaining traction as part of South Korea’s running gear boom, further fueling the competitive consumerism that defines this fitness trend.
This consumption pattern is deeply tied to what is often referred to as “flex culture”, where individuals purchase expensive goods, not just for personal use but to “show off” their success to others. The concept of “flex”, which originated from hip-hop, has permeated the MZ Generation’s consumer habits, where the quality and brand of running gear are seen as markers of social standing. This phenomenon is reflected in South Korea’s fitness market, where even beginner runners are willing to spend significantly on products associated with top-tier performance and style.
A critical factor amplifying this consumer-driven trend is social media, where the MZ Generation frequently showcases their running gear and fitness routines. Platforms like Instagram are flooded with images of young Koreans sporting the latest in athletic fashion, often paired with posts highlighting their personal bests, running routes, and even the number of calories burned. These posts not only document their fitness journey but also project an image of success and discipline to their followers.
In this sense, social media has turned running into a performative activity, where the quality of the gear, the style of the clothing, and the results achieved are all shared to elicit admiration and approval. This constant exposure to the running achievements of others on platforms like Instagram creates a cycle of social comparison, motivating more young people to invest in their fitness image and purchase high-end gear to maintain social relevance.
In addition to individual pursuits, many in the MZ Generation are joining running communities or running crews. These groups not only provide a sense of camaraderie but also serve as platforms for further social comparison. Running events organized by brands like Nike, Asics, and Adidas often turn into both social gatherings and fashion showcases, where participants display their latest purchases.
These running crews have become key players in South Korea’s fitness culture, hosting events that blend fitness with social interaction. The idea of running as a social and highly visible activity amplifies the need for high-quality, fashionable gear, further fueling the market.
The “린이” Culture: Beginner’s Humor as Psychological Relief
In a society where success is often measured by outward achievements, self-deprecating humor serves as an important psychological tool for reducing performance-related anxiety.
As South Korea’s fitness culture expands, especially among the MZ Generation, a unique phenomenon has emerged within the community— the use of the term “린이.” Short for “어린이” (child), “린이” is humorously combined with various activities to create terms like “런린이” (running newbie), “헬린이” (gym newbie), and “등린이” (hiking newbie). These playful terms serve as a way for beginners to identify themselves in fitness communities without feeling overly pressured to meet expert standards right away.
The rise of “린이” culture speaks to a broader societal need to ease the intense pressures of competition. In South Korea, where societal norms often emphasize perfection and success, even leisure activities like running or going to the gym can become arenas for social comparison. By labeling themselves as “런린이” or “헬린이,” participants use self-deprecating humor to lower the stakes, allowing them to engage in these activities without feeling like they need to excel immediately.
This humor-based language provides a psychological buffer, creating space for individuals to embrace their inexperience while also becoming part of a community. Rather than focusing on achievement or status, these terms invite people to enjoy the learning process. This marks a shift from the pressure-filled environments often seen in Korean education and career paths, allowing for a more relaxed approach to personal improvement.
Using “린이” terms has also helped foster a sense of inclusivity within fitness communities. Online platforms, especially social media and fitness forums, have played a large role in normalizing these terms. On platforms like Instagram, users proudly share their fitness journeys as “런린이” or “헬린이,” making it clear that they are just starting out. This openness helps to reduce the fear of judgment that can come with participating in a fitness culture dominated by experts and influencers.
Fitness communities, both online and offline, have embraced these terms as a way to make new participants feel welcome. Whether it’s through hashtags like #런린이 or #헬린이, or through casual conversations at local gyms and running clubs, the “린이” label has become a way for beginners to connect with others and share their progress without the added burden of competition.
In a society where success is often measured by outward achievements, self-deprecating humor serves as an important psychological tool for reducing performance-related anxiety. The pressure to “perform” exists even in recreational activities like fitness, where participants feel compelled to showcase their abilities on social media or within their social circles. By adopting a “린이” identity, beginners can actively resist this pressure, positioning themselves as learners rather than competitors.
This mindset shift is crucial in a country where perfectionism and comparison often drive mental health issues such as anxiety and stress. The lighthearted nature of “린이” terms allows people to set more realistic expectations for themselves, helping to alleviate the fear of failure or judgment.
Social Comparison and Evaluation in Korean Society
In response to the pressures of social comparison, many MZ Generation participants in fitness culture have embraced the “린이” identity, as discussed in the previous section. By adopting this self-deprecating label, they acknowledge their beginner status and relieve some of the psychological pressure associated with competing at the highest levels.
South Korean society is often characterized by a strong emphasis on social hierarchy and competitive success. These cultural values are deeply intertwined with the concept of social comparison, a psychological mechanism through which individuals evaluate themselves based on how they measure up against others. This phenomenon is especially prevalent among the MZ Generation, where social comparison extends into various aspects of life, from education and careers to fitness and appearance.
Developed by Leon Festinger in 1954, Social Comparison Theory posits that individuals have an inherent drive to evaluate their abilities and opinions by comparing themselves to others. This process helps individuals gain a sense of self-worth and understand where they stand in relation to societal norms. There are two main types of social comparison:
- Upward comparison: Comparing oneself to others who are perceived as superior in some way, such as being more skilled, wealthy, or attractive. This type of comparison can motivate individuals to improve but can also lead to feelings of inadequacy or envy.
- Downward comparison: Comparing oneself to others who are perceived as inferior. This type of comparison is often used to boost self-esteem or mitigate negative emotions.
In Korean society, upward comparison is particularly pervasive, with individuals frequently striving to match or surpass the achievements of those around them. This is evident in many aspects of life, from academic performance and career success to material wealth and physical appearance.
For the MZ Generation, social comparison plays a significant role in shaping their fitness behaviors. Platforms like Instagram and YouTube offer constant opportunities to engage in upward comparison by showcasing idealized images of fitness influencers, celebrities, and peers. As a result, individuals may feel pressured to meet these highly visible standards of physical fitness, appearance, and lifestyle.
- Perfectionism: Many young people set unrealistic goals for themselves, driven by the desire to match the accomplishments or appearances of others. In fitness culture, this often translates to an obsession with achieving the “perfect body” or outperforming others in terms of physical endurance, strength, or even the brand of fitness gear they own.
- Materialism: Social comparison extends beyond fitness results to the gear and clothing associated with running, gym workouts, and other fitness activities. As previously discussed, luxury running shoes and apparel have become status symbols, and the act of purchasing high-end gear is often motivated by the desire to keep up with others who are perceived as more successful or fashionable.
South Korea’s strong emphasis on education, career success, and material wealth has its roots in its rapid economic development over the past several decades. As the country moved from poverty to prosperity, social structures shifted, but the drive for upward mobility remained deeply ingrained in its culture. The result is a society where success is often measured by outward achievements, and individuals are encouraged from a young age to compete for the top ranks, whether in school, the workplace, or even personal fitness.
This competitive atmosphere is further reinforced by the influence of Confucian values, which emphasize respect for hierarchy, status, and achievement. As a result, individuals frequently compare themselves to those around them as a way to assess their social standing and personal worth.
While social comparison can be motivating, it also has significant negative psychological effects, particularly when upward comparison leads to feelings of inadequacy, envy, or stress. In Korea, the pressure to compete and outperform others has contributed to high rates of stress, anxiety, and depression, especially among the younger generation. These effects are exacerbated by social media, where curated, idealized images create an unrealistic standard that many feel they must meet.
For example, a fitness enthusiast who constantly compares themselves to influencers with perfect physiques may experience feelings of inferiority or self-doubt. This can lead to exercise burnout, dissatisfaction with one’s progress, and even body image issues.
In response to the pressures of social comparison, many MZ Generation participants in fitness culture have embraced the “린이” identity, as discussed in the previous section. By adopting this self-deprecating label, they acknowledge their beginner status and relieve some of the psychological pressure associated with competing at the highest levels. This shift allows for a more inclusive and relaxed approach to fitness, where improvement is celebrated rather than immediate mastery.
The Role of Social Media in Shaping MZ Generation’s Fitness Trends
Social media has become an integral part of how the MZ Generation approaches fitness, both as a source of inspiration and as a platform for self-expression and social validation. Platforms like Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok play a significant role in how young people share their fitness journeys, interact with their peers, and build their personal brand. For many, social media is not just a tool for documenting progress—it is a space where identity, achievement, and social comparison all intersect.
For the MZ Generation, fitness is not just a personal pursuit; it’s something to be performed online. On platforms like Instagram, users post pictures of their workout routines, track their running routes using apps like Nike Run Club, and share their progress with followers. These posts are often accompanied by metrics such as distance run, calories burned, or personal best times, all of which are used to project discipline and dedication.
The visual nature of social media amplifies this performance, encouraging users to curate their posts to highlight the most flattering aspects of their fitness journey. This leads to a phenomenon where fitness becomes a part of personal branding, and running or gym sessions are framed as accomplishments that demonstrate one’s commitment not only to health but also to self-improvement and success.
A key factor in the social media fitness boom is the rise of fitness influencers. These individuals, who often boast large followings on platforms like Instagram or YouTube, serve as role models for their audience. Influencers share workout routines, product endorsements, and motivational content, all while presenting an image of physical perfection and peak performance.
For the MZ Generation, following fitness influencers creates opportunities for upward comparison, where users compare their own fitness levels, appearance, and even their gear to those of influencers. This can lead to a desire to emulate these influencers by adopting similar workout routines or purchasing the same high-end running shoes and gym wear. Influencers often collaborate with major brands like Nike, Asics, and Adidas, further fueling the consumer-driven nature of the fitness industry.
The constant exposure to these curated and polished images of fitness can push users to adopt more competitive and perfectionist behaviors in their fitness routines. The desire to “keep up” with influencers or even friends can lead to the purchase of expensive products as a way to project success and keep pace with the fitness standards set online.
On social media, fitness can serve as a form of social capital. The more physically fit, disciplined, and stylish an individual appears online, the more social validation they receive in the form of likes, comments, and shares. For the MZ Generation, this validation is deeply intertwined with self-worth. The pressure to achieve physical milestones or look a certain way is magnified by the visibility that social media offers.
The more one engages with fitness content, the more likely they are to be influenced by it, leading to a cycle of social comparison and material consumption. Whether it’s purchasing the latest pair of high-performance running shoes or signing up for a marathon to post about the achievement, these activities become intertwined with the desire for social approval. As a result, running and fitness are not just personal goals—they become public performances that invite validation from one’s online community.
While social media can be a source of motivation, it also has a darker side. The constant pressure to measure up to idealized standards can lead to feelings of inadequacy, anxiety, and burnout. When individuals engage in upward comparison with influencers or peers who appear to have achieved a high level of fitness, it can create an overwhelming sense of not being good enough.
This is especially true in a society like South Korea, where perfectionism and social evaluation are already deeply embedded in the culture. Social media magnifies these pressures, creating an environment where failure or lack of progress feels more visible and consequential. The result is that some individuals may push themselves too hard, either physically or mentally, in an effort to meet the standards set by their online peers or role models.
In response to these pressures, many beginners in the fitness space have embraced the “린이” identity, as discussed in previous sections. By acknowledging their inexperience, users can distance themselves from the need to perform at the highest level and instead focus on personal progress. Online fitness communities further help reduce the anxiety surrounding fitness by creating supportive environments where participants can share their challenges and victories without fear of judgment.
This self-deprecating humor and openness in online communities help shift the focus away from competition and toward growth and learning. As a result, fitness enthusiasts are able to navigate the pressures of social media in a more balanced way, finding validation in their own progress rather than in unrealistic standards.
The Dark Side of Competition in Fitness Communities
Online fitness communities like DCInside’s Running Gallery and TheQoo offer invaluable resources for runners and fitness enthusiasts. They provide a space for sharing training plans, comparing results, and seeking advice. However, the very nature of these communities, which should foster support, often fosters a toxic competitive culture, where beginners, or “린이,” feel immense pressure to conform to certain standards—especially regarding gear and performance.
The term “린이” (derived from “어린이,” meaning child) was originally introduced as a humorous way for beginners to acknowledge their inexperience in a lighthearted manner. However, as the term has become more widespread in online communities, it has also taken on a more competitive and materialistic connotation.
In places like DCInside’s Running Gallery, where training times and equipment are hot topics, beginners often feel pressured to buy the right running shoes and adopt specific training regimens simply to avoid being labeled as incompetent. The competition in these forums extends beyond physical performance to include which brands of shoes you wear or how much money you’re willing to spend on the latest gear. This competitive spirit, while motivating for some, can create anxiety for others, particularly those new to running.
A major area of comparison in these communities is running shoes. Posts about which brand—whether it’s Nike, Asics, or Hoka—offers the best performance dominate the conversations. However, this obsession often shifts from practical discussions about comfort and functionality to materialistic comparisons, where users judge each other based on their shoes. A common question for beginners is no longer “How can I improve my running?” but rather, “What shoe should I buy to be taken seriously?”
The gallery is filled with posts showcasing the latest purchases, reviews of expensive gear, and debates about which shoes are superior, which reinforces the idea that spending more equates to better performance or greater legitimacy as a runner. For beginners, this can lead to financial strain or feelings of inadequacy if they cannot afford the high-end brands that are popular in the community.
While community-driven competition can be healthy and motivational, the intensity of comparisons in these forums often crosses a line, contributing to feelings of exclusion among beginners. Instead of fostering a sense of inclusion, the focus on status symbols like high-end running shoes creates a hierarchy within the community. The elite runners who boast about their expensive gear and superior times become role models that other users feel pressured to emulate, leading to a cycle of consumerism and performance anxiety.
Additionally, this focus on material possessions over actual improvement and enjoyment of the sport perpetuates a form of toxic competition, where one’s value in the community is determined not by their dedication or progress but by the brand of shoes they wear or the speed at which they run.
For those new to running, these forums can be daunting. While there is a wealth of information available, the pressure to conform to the community’s standards can be overwhelming. Beginners who proudly identify as “런린이” (running newbies) often find themselves stuck in a paradox: they are encouraged to start running but are also judged based on how quickly they can achieve certain milestones or which gear they invest in.
This pressure to spend and perform contributes to a sense of imposter syndrome for many newcomers, as they feel they do not belong unless they meet the community’s often-unrealistic standards. Instead of focusing on personal growth and fitness, many “린이” participants become fixated on how they are perceived by others, both in terms of physical performance and material possessions.
What began as a supportive space for sharing advice and motivating others has, in some cases, transformed into a breeding ground for toxic competitiveness and consumerism. While the idea of being a “린이” once helped to reduce pressure for beginners, it now often amplifies the need to fit into community norms, particularly when it comes to spending on high-end running gear.
For beginners, this can be a double-edged sword—while they may find motivation and inspiration in these communities, they also risk falling into a cycle of comparison and inadequacy. As running continues to grow in popularity, it’s essential to remember that fitness is ultimately a personal journey, one that shouldn’t be overshadowed by material comparisons or the constant pressure to keep up with others.
The Social Pressures and Conformity in Public Fitness
South Korea’s fitness culture extends beyond personal health and exercise, with public behavior often subject to intense social scrutiny. From the backlash against running shirtless to the criticism of running crews, the country’s fitness communities reflect deeper societal dynamics of conformity, social norms, and the pressure to fit in. In this section, we analyze how these public fitness behaviors provoke criticism and why they are seen as deviating from the expected standards of modesty and collective harmony.
In online fitness communities like DCInside’s Running Gallery, the topic of running shirtless frequently stirs heated debates. For many, the act of running without a shirt is met with disapproval, particularly in South Korea’s more conservative public spaces. The discontent often stems from the country’s social expectations around modesty and public decency, where excessive exposure is seen as inappropriate.
This sentiment is often magnified in online forums where users discuss the motives behind going shirtless, sometimes interpreting it as an act of showing off or seeking attention. For some runners, particularly those less confident about their own physical condition, seeing others run shirtless can trigger feelings of insecurity or competition, leading to criticisms that extend beyond simple social decorum. The act of running shirtless becomes a symbolic performance, not just of physical fitness but also of superiority in a competitive landscape where body image is highly scrutinized.
From a psychological perspective, this reflects the broader societal tendency towards social comparison. Individuals who may feel inadequate in terms of their fitness or body shape are more likely to view shirtless runners through a lens of envyor resentment. This phenomenon is consistent with upward comparison, where people feel stress or dissatisfaction when they perceive others as outperforming them, even in casual public activities like running. The simple act of going shirtless, in this case, becomes a social statement that others might interpret as a display of physical dominance.
Another significant aspect of South Korea’s public fitness culture is the rise of running crews, which have become popular among the MZ Generation. While these groups foster camaraderie and social interaction, they are not immune to public criticism. Running crews often gather in large groups, wearing matching outfits and occupying public spaces, which can give the impression of exclusivity. For solo runners or outsiders, the visible presence of these crews can feel intimidating or exclusionary.
The criticism of running crews can also be traced to the competitive nature of these communities. Many running crews are heavily branded, with sponsorships from major companies like Nike or Adidas, turning the act of running into a commercialized event. For some, this commercialization detracts from the pure fitness experience, as the focus shifts from personal improvement to status signaling through brand affiliation. This shift from fitness to social capital has led to resentment among those who feel left out of the community, particularly if they cannot afford the high-end gear often associated with these groups.
In online discussions, users sometimes express frustration with the public space dynamics of running crews, accusing them of monopolizing popular running routes and turning fitness into a spectacle. The matching outfits, coordinated runs, and presence of sponsors create an atmosphere that feels more like a performance than a recreational activity. For outsiders, this can contribute to a sense of exclusion and alienation, as if running is no longer about health but about being part of an elite, well-branded community.
Both the reactions to shirtless running and the criticism of running crews highlight the social judgment that permeates South Korea’s fitness culture. In a society that values collective harmony and modesty, behaviors that stand out are often met with resistance. The scrutiny surrounding public fitness behaviors is deeply connected to the fear of judgment, where any deviation from accepted norms—whether it be running without a shirt or participating in an exclusive crew—invites criticism.
At the core of this resistance is the pressure to conform to societal standards of behavior. Whether someone is running solo or part of a crew, the public performance of fitness is constantly subject to evaluation by others. This creates a paradox where individuals are encouraged to engage in fitness activities for their health, yet are often judged for how they present themselves while doing so.
The backlash against shirtless running and running crews in South Korea’s fitness communities reflects the broader societal pressure to conform to modesty, collective values, and social norms. In these environments, fitness becomes more than a personal pursuit; it is a public performance, subject to the scrutiny and judgment of others. For those who deviate from these expectations, whether by baring their chest or participating in a highly branded running crew, the social cost can be high, underscoring the competitive and sometimes exclusionary nature of South Korea’s fitness culture.
A Broader Look at Fitness Culture and Identity in South Korea
In recent years, fitness in South Korea has evolved into much more than a means of staying healthy—it has become a cultural phenomenon that reflects deeper social values, such as status, appearance, and self-identity. As explored throughout this article, running, gym culture, and participation in fitness communities have intertwined with the materialism and competition that characterize much of modern South Korean life. In this final section, we will zoom out to consider how fitness has become a way for individuals—especially the MZ Generation—to navigate the challenges of identity formation and social standing in an increasingly performance-driven society.
Fitness as a Reflection of Status and Success
In South Korea, a culture that places significant emphasis on appearance, success, and social approval, fitness has naturally become one of the avenues through which individuals demonstrate their achievements. In urban centers like Seoul, it’s common to see fitness trends tightly tied to luxury fashion, with gym-goers and runners wearing premium brands, showcasing their routines on social media, and attending high-profile fitness events.
For the MZ Generation, participating in these fitness activities, whether it be running marathons or joining well-known running crews, has become a way to build and project their identity. Fitness is no longer just about physical well-being; it serves as a tool for self-branding, helping individuals carve out their niche within the highly competitive social landscape. The constant pursuit of improvement—be it through physical milestones or the acquisition of premium fitness gear—embodies the wider societal drive toward self-optimization.
The pressure to perform in the public eye, coupled with a strong inclination toward social comparison, has created a highly competitive fitness environment. Individuals are not just running for health; they are running to show others that they are disciplined, stylish, and successful.
The Role of Social Media in Identity Building
For the MZ Generation, social media is a key space where fitness accomplishments are displayed, celebrated, and scrutinized. Platforms like Instagram and YouTube allow users to curate their identities, carefully selecting what aspects of their fitness journey to share with the world. Fitness, in this context, becomes a visual performance, where metrics like distances run, personal bests, or the brand of running shoes worn are all part of a larger narrative of personal success.
However, this curated presentation of fitness creates a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it can be motivating, encouraging individuals to set goals and engage with a broader community of like-minded fitness enthusiasts. On the other hand, it fosters anxiety and perfectionism, as individuals constantly compare themselves to influencers or peers who appear to have mastered the art of fitness—both in terms of performance and appearance.
This dynamic creates a psychological burden, where individuals feel the need to live up to the idealized images they see online. Fitness influencers, with their carefully crafted content, often set the standards that many everyday fitness enthusiasts strive to meet, leading to a cycle of pressure and self-comparison.
Balancing Individual Health with Public Expectations
While the pursuit of fitness in South Korea can serve as a positive force—helping individuals develop discipline, improve physical health, and connect with supportive communities—it also comes with challenges, particularly the need to balance personal goals with public expectations. In a society where group harmony and public image are highly valued, individuals often feel that their personal achievements are subject to public evaluation.
Whether it’s choosing to run in a highly visible group or deciding to exercise alone, each decision becomes part of a larger calculation about how one is perceived. This creates an ongoing tension between personal satisfaction and the need for social validation, pushing many individuals to overextend themselves both financially (through the purchase of luxury fitness gear) and physically (in pursuit of extreme fitness goals).
Moving Toward a Healthier Fitness Culture
Despite these challenges, there is growing recognition of the need for a more balanced approach to fitness. Many voices in the fitness community, including some influencers and public figures, are advocating for a return to the basics of health and well-being, emphasizing that fitness should be about individual growth rather than competition or status.
Online communities have also begun to shift, with more users promoting the idea that it’s okay to be a “린이” (beginner) and that fitness is a personal journey, not a race. This shift suggests that while South Korea’s fitness culture is still heavily influenced by social comparison, there are emerging efforts to create a more inclusive and supportive environmentwhere the focus is on individual progress rather than external validation.
Reclaiming Fitness for Health, Not Status
South Korea’s booming fitness culture is a complex landscape, where health, identity, and social pressure intersect. For the MZ Generation, fitness is no longer just about personal well-being—it has become a way to navigate social expectations, competition, and the pressure to succeed. From the obsession with luxury fitness gear and running groups to the backlash against behaviors like running shirtless or joining exclusive running crews, the culture reflects both the positive aspects of community and the toxic pressures of comparison and conformity.
Online communities like DCInside’s Running Gallery illustrate the dual nature of fitness culture: they are spaces where knowledge sharing and support can thrive but also where performance anxiety and materialistic competition are rampant. Beginners, or “린이,” who embrace the learning process can still feel overwhelmed by the pressure to conform to socially constructed ideals of what it means to be fit.
As the fitness environment continues to evolve, it is crucial to promote a healthier, more balanced approach—one that emphasizes personal growth, physical health, and mental well-being over external validation. Fitness should be a journey of self-discovery and progress, not a race for status or a showcase for consumerism. By acknowledging these challenges, we can work toward creating a more inclusive and supportive fitness culture, where everyone—whether a seasoned athlete or a “린이”—can thrive.
