Where goths and gym rats meet to get fit

Walk toward the graffiti wall, turn left at the 11-foot pentagram, pass the polished gimp suit (watch your head, a leather-harnessed bicycle is suspended from the ceiling) and descend the steps into the basement.

The room is completely dark, and it is difficult to glimpse much, save for 34 bodies that are rising and falling in unison, slick with sweat. In the front is a stage, the background of which is illuminated by two large screens playing a video of Nine Inch Nails singer Trent Reznor wearing a leather blindfold and swinging from shackles. Standing on the stage is the heavily tattooed master of ceremonies, Michael Macneal. He thrusts his right arm upward. The beat of the music drops. The crowd yells, "Hell, yeah!"

This isn't a fetish night, a goth club or a festival celebrating electronic body music.

It is an indoor-cycling exercise class at the newly opened Monster Cycle studio in New York City, and it represents the marriage of two subcultures that might otherwise never commingle: goths and gym rats.

Welcome to the world of "health goth."

Health goth began as an Internet meme, whereby three friends began to post online images showing fitness gear in unusual settings: for instance, a ghostly white Nike hoodie floating in a transparent cube.

The term "health goth" was coined in 2013 by Mike Grabarek, of Portland, Ore. He is one-half of the R&B duo Magic Fades. He and two friends - a bandmate, Jeremy Scott, and Chris Cantino, a video artist - began to play around online with the concept. They posted images on the Web of athletic brand logos altered in a gothic style as well as photographs that could be described as punk-meets-Pilates.

Seeing that their images were being appreciated and shared online, the three men started the Health Goth Facebook community page. The Health Goth page has garnered more than 18,000 likes. It comprises arty photographs of people dressed in gothic-leaning athletic-conjuring attire and other imagery - sometimes eerie and occasionally creepy. A photo of black sneakers floating upside-down in a swimming pool has gotten the thumbs-up from more than 250 health goth fans.

The idea of health goth was then championed as a fitness trend by Johnny Love (his real name is John Dal Santo), a Chicago disc jockey and electronic dance music producer also known as Deathface. In 2012, he adopted a healthier lifestyle and lost 20 pounds. "After I turned 30, a friend asked me, 'Do you want to be Deathface or Fatface?' " he said.

He opted for the former, posting grainy fitness videos and pictures on Tumblr and Instagram and hash-tagging them .healthgoth. Others began to adopt the hashtag as well. Speaking to Vice last July about a record, "Cry for Black Dawn," he laid out what he called Ten Commandments of .healthgoth - including rules like: "Don't check yourself out in the mirror at the gym. Healthgoths wait 'til they get home to flex so they can see how big their lats have gotten." (The article ran with the headline "Deathface Wants YOU To Stop Eating Carbs.")

Love ultimately started his own Facebook page - "healthgoth" as opposed to Grabarek's "health goth" - as well as a website, healthgoth.com. (There is no love lost between Love and Grabarek and his friends. Each feels entitled to credit for the concept.)

Love's website is emblazoned with jimmied logos of sportswear brands like Nike and Adidas. The Nike swoosh is displayed with the word "DEAD." The silhouetted image from Nike of a midair Michael Jordan is shown upside-down. "I hate corporate worship," Love said. Nike could not be reached for comment.

His goal is to encourage good health among fans of the dark arts and electronic music. "Active participation and improving yourself is more important than wearing a uniform," Love said.

But if you must wear a uniform, may he suggest one of the pieces he has started to sell on his website? Items include a black sports bra with an upside-down swoosh and the message, "I just can't." It costs $25.

The market for health goth took root amid a demographic that previously had not shown a lot of interest in fitness, some trainers say.

"Many goths have spent years drinking, staying out all night and smoking cloves," said Ammo O'Day, a personal trainer and esoteric life coach from New York City. "Lots of us work in night life. At our age, with our lifestyles, we're not going to make it unless we take care of our bodies."

O'Day, 42, has dreadlocks, many tattoos and self-identifies as a goth and a witch. She also is a longtime fitness devotee and used to feel out of place at the gym.

"I got stares," she said. "I think people were surprised because I didn't look like someone who 'should' be at the gym."

There was an "us vs. them" mentality, she added. "If they went to the gym, we didn't want anything to do with it."

That edge has receded as the Internet has created overlapping circles among numerous subcultures.

Purveyors of health goth strive to maintain a balance that will entice all and alienate none. Macneal, who with two partners owns the Monster Cycle studio in New York, says he toes the line carefully, splicing pop tunes (Jessie J and David Guetta) into his playlist amid the more techno-infused sounds from Gesaffelstein and Chvrches.

"Some people say, 'I love that you guys are into a darker aesthetic.' But one person called us phony because he expected some kind of dominatrix cycle class," he said. "Look, we're as edgy, dark and sexy as a cycling class can be. If we go any further, it's no longer a fitness studio."