On the main level of St. Peter’s Lutheran Church, behind the Gothic arched doors and next to the empty pews, the sound of clanging barbells fill the air.
A handful of people stand around chatting as they organize gym equipment, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the flickering fluorescent lights above. Rows of dumbbells, yoga mats, resistance bands, benches and barbells surround them, awaiting their next weekly session.
The thick church walls quiet the roar of city life in downtown Ottawa, offering a private space for queer gym-goers to train without judgement or distraction.
This was the vision of Ryan Haché and Max Reddy, a couple who have been together for two years, and the co-organizers of the Queer Lifting Club.
Open on a drop-in basis every Friday from 6 to 8 p.m., QLC is a free, queer-friendly gym for people to find community through exercise in Ottawa.
Although running a free gym isn’t the most profitable business model, Haché and Reddy wouldn’t have it any other way.
Seeing people’s happiness, health and confidence blossom over time is rewarding enough, Reddy said.
“We don’t make any money from it,” Reddy said, “I’ve actually lost $85, but everything is so worth it.”
Haché beamed as he recalled the day the club first opened its doors.
“Ten [people showing up] seemed like a lot at the time,” he said. “We didn’t expect anybody to show up.”
Now dozens of members frequent the gym every week, Haché said, with new faces showing up consistently.
Home gym to community
Before there was a club or even a barbell to share, there was Reddy’s family living room. For years, he pieced together workouts using calisthenics, dumbbell exercises and equipment he was gifted for Christmas to combat sleepless nights.
“As I started to get more into working out, the issues I had with sleep went away. and I started to just work out because I loved it,” Reddy said.
In his living room, Reddy found not only passion, but a longing for connection. What started as a way to get a good night’s rest soon evolved into the foundation for a community.
“I wanted to work out with people. I wanted a community and what this has given me is what I always wanted from that,” he said. “It’s like we’re all friends and it’s nice to be together.”
Faith and fitness
Haché was first contacted by the church to develop a queer-friendly space. But when he and Reddy pitched the concept of a gym, they did not expect to be met with a thumbs up.
“The pastor was very into it ‘cause he used to be a powerlifter, which we didn’t know at the time,” Haché said. “I still was not expecting them to go through with it just because big, heavy weights in a church are not something you would normally expect, but they actually received it really well.”
Joey Crouse, the pastor at St. Peter’s, said the queer-friendly gym was the perfect addition to the church.
“Where do you go when you don’t fit into the machismo of the world?” he said. “The church should be that place for people.”
When it comes to maintaining an open and safe-space for queer folk, Crouse said participants must accept the church as a queer-friendly space.
So long as you are respectful and not a threat to others, QLC has an open-doors policy, Haché said.
“It’s not like we ask people before they walk in, ‘Are you queer?’ We aren’t bouncers,” he chuckled.
By creating a supportive fitness community, Crouse added that Haché and Reddy have built a space where people can grow stronger — inside and out.
“They’re just great people, right? It’s so impressive. It’s their baby,” he said of the gym. “It’s blossomed into something truly remarkable.”
Haché said it’s easy to fall victim to fitness and health misinformation and trends online without the proper base knowledge, adding people will often make self-deprecating comments in front of him.
He added that he hopes the lifting club can be a space to help people avoid harming themselves and learn healthier fitness practices.
“We also ensure that people are taking care of themselves to a certain extent,” he said. “People can come in with ideas about what it means to be fit and sometimes that can mean they don’t realize it, but they’re harming themselves.”
A place to belong
But for Haché and Reddy, the Queer Lifting Club was never just about fitness. It was equally about creating a safe space for queer and trans people in a world where they might have difficulties finding that.
“Everybody that comes through, we care about them,” said Reddy. “We’re just trying to help.”
Grounded in genuine care for one another, the club has fortified friendships and bonds like no other.
In the end, nobody at the lift club cares how much you can deadlift or how long you’ve been working out. Haché and Reddy said that what matters to them is how you feel when you walk out of the Gothic arched doors of St. Peter’s Lutheran Church, onto the busy streets of downtown Ottawa and into the world.
Featured image by Claire Hutcheon/the Charlatan
