Over the past week, I've been making an effort to strike a balance between my digital and analog life. Between finally having the time to do some personal projects, and my usual photography walks, I started to rely on the gym as my analog escape, thanks to my friends. I just want to put on my headphones, listen to some Burial or JPEGMafia to tune out the background noise, and lift.

The current state of digital fitness tools makes that surprisingly difficult. Rather than acting as a simple tools that do one thing well, the modern fitness app has become a bloated, privacy-invading ecosystem.

I tried out a few popular fitness apps, and the experience was underwhelming.

One of the biggest mistake gym apps make is demanding too much cognitive load before you even log a workout. During onboarding, they want you to set up an entire multi-day split, enter exact body stats, and sit through tutorials. When using the app at the gym, resting for 60 seconds between sets, I need a frictionless interface. Everything else just interrupts the physical flow.

Human physiology isn't a simple math equation. When an app rigidly demands that you maintain a streak or push through six consecutive training days without rest, it ignores the realities of life and fatigue.

Fitness apps collect incredibly intimate data, from geolocation to biometric vitals, yet many operate with broadly-worded privacy policies that allow them to share this information with third-party data brokers and advertisers.

At the end of the day, a fitness app should be a good appliance: it should capture the data perfectly, feel great to use, and then get completely out of your way.