The equipment here is a mix of the new and the lovingly worn-in. You won’t find a rowing machine that looks like it belongs in a NASA lab, but you will find a solid bench press that doesn't wobble like a jelly at a kids' party. There are enough dumbbells to go from “I’ll just do a light warm-up” to “Why did I think I could lift that?” without having to wait for a decade.
One user review I spotted mentioned the “cable machines that hum a little tune.” That’s spot on. It’s not a malfunction; it’s character. It’s the gym’s way of saying, “You’ve got this, but I’m going to make a slight whirring noise just to keep things interesting.” Honestly, it’s better than the dead silence of a library, which is where I’d rather be when I’m not here.
The Parking & The People: A Comedy of Errors
Let’s talk about the parking because, in Corstorphine, this is a major plot point. The car park is an exercise in strategic patience. You’ll circle like a vulture, praying someone finishes their circuit training just as you arrive. It’s a real-life game of musical chairs, but with more sweat and fewer chairs. One review said, “I’ve seen more organised checkout queues at Aldi,” and yeah, that’s the energy.
But inside? The people are gold. You’ve got the guy who grunts on every rep like he’s auditioning for a nature documentary. There’s the lady who takes the same spin class every Tuesday with a face of pure, unadulterated rage. And then there’s you, awkwardly trying to figure out if the leg press machine is set up right. It’s a beautiful mess of humanity, and nobody is looking at you. They’re too busy looking at themselves in the mirror.
Exclusive first look pictures of Edinburghs new high tech gym
