Alright folks, buckle up because today I’m dumping my brain about that whole Misfits 009 situation. Seriously, I almost threw out my back just setting the dang thing up.
It started simple enough. I saw this boxy workout beast online, all sleek and promising “functional fitness,” and my impulsive side got the better of me. Picture this: delivery guy drops off what feels like a small car engine crate in my driveway. First red flag right there.
The Unboxing Nightmare
Me and my neighbor spent a solid Saturday morning wrestling this thing out of its cardboard prison. Seriously, packing tape everywhere. Screws rolling under the couch. The instruction manual? Pure gibberish. Diagrams that looked like a toddler scribbled them. We were sweating buckets before even touching a weight. Finally, after much cursing and one near-miss with a rogue Allen key, it stood there… kinda wobbly.
First Workout: Pure Frustration
Okay, excitement kicks in! I load up the cables, feeling optimistic. First exercise, trying some chest presses. Pull the handles… and hear this horrible grinding noise. Like metal chewing on metal. Not a good sign. Adjust the seat height – the dial feels flimsy, like it might snap off. Do a few rows, and the cable travel feels… uneven? Jerky? It’s not that smooth pull I expected.
Next up, leg extensions. Getting the pin into the weight stack felt like defusing a bomb. Seriously, why is it so stiff? Finally get it set, manage a few reps. The padding? Rock hard. Felt like sitting on a concrete bench. My butt was screaming for mercy.
Trying To Like It (Spoiler: I Struggled)
Gave it a week. Seriously pushed myself to find the good. Here’s what happened:
- Stability Issues: Whenever I used anything over 80% of my max weight, the whole rig shook. Like, visibly wobbled. My confidence wasn’t exactly soaring.
- Annoying Adjustments: Changing exercises? Forget smooth transitions. Every new movement meant wrestling with seat height, pin positions, different handles. Killed the workout flow stone dead. More time adjusting than lifting.
- The Cable Thing: That uneven pull just never went away. Some angles it felt okay, others it felt grindy or like it was sticking. Drove me nuts.
- Space Hog: In my garage gym? It dominated. Like, I could barely squeeze past it. Felt massive compared to the footprint I thought it needed.
Okay, Fine, What’s Actually Useful?
Look, it ain’t all garbage. Here’s the lowdown after forcing myself to use it:
Pros (The Tiny Glimmer):
- It DOES let you do a bunch of different exercises… if you got the patience.
- Some attachment options (lat pulldown bar, some handles) included. Didn’t have to buy extra right away.
- Price tag seems cheaper than fancier brands… at first glance anyway.
Cons (The Big, Loud List):
- Build Feels Cheap: Thin padding, shaky frame, dodgy cables, flimsy knobs. Screams “budget” in the worst way.
- Assembly = Bad Dream: Honestly the worst I’ve ever experienced. Save your sanity.
- Wobbly & Loud: Makes you nervous when lifting heavy, plus the noise disturbs everyone.
- Rough User Experience: Everything takes effort – adjusting, switching exercises, the pull quality.
- Behemoth Size: Needs way more room than advertised.
My Brutal Verdict
So, is it worth it? Here’s my raw take after weeks of using it:
If you’re strapped for cash, desperate for a home multi-gym, and have the patience of a saint (and possibly engineering skills to tighten it constantly)? Maybe. But be prepared to fight with it constantly.
For me? Hell no, it ain’t worth it. I felt like I was battling the machine itself every workout instead of actually getting stronger. The frustration outweighed the benefits by a mile. That “savings” cost me time, energy, and a whole lot of aggravation. Ended up selling mine for half what I paid just to get it out of my sight. Still feel a pang of regret when I see it mentioned online. My advice? Save your money a bit longer, find something used that’s better quality, or invest in better separate pieces. Trust me, your back and your sanity will thank you.
