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The gym is his temple, and he, the devout worshipper, begins his ritual. The bearded Mexican man, clad in a tight, sweat-drenched tank top and shorts, starts with a series of deep lunges, his powerful thighs flexing and relaxing. He moves to the bench press, his muscles bulging and contracting as he lifts and lowers the barbell. His breath comes in short, sharp bursts, his body slick with sweat. He finishes with a set of squats, his ass cheeks clenching and unclenching, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The room is filled with the scent of his sweat and the sound of his grunts, a symphony of raw, masculine exertion.