China Daily (Hong Kong)

Decoding the fitness scam

It happens all the time. People pay big money to achieve a healthier lifestyle, only to learn that the ‘spa’ that has taken all their money has folded and gone out of business. Wang Yuke reports.

- Contact the writer at jenny@chinadaily­hk.com

Edge Yip worked hard for his personal trainer’s certificat­e but once he reached his milestone he was shattered to discover that he was just a glorified salesman. His sense of accomplish­ment turned to disgust as he found himself high-pressuring the clients who trusted him to upgrade, extend, buy, buy, buy!

The pressure was killing him, because worst of all, working for California Fitness gave him a bad conscience. California Fitness is the chain that had to shutter its operations while the authoritie­s in Hong Kong and Singapore investigat­ed its business practices.

“As a profession­al personal trainer, I’m keen to show what I know to my students. I feel satisfied when I know that they are happy with the results,” he told China Daily.

All about tricks

California Fitness isn’t alone. It’s a tough racket there. Fitness companies always walk the tightrope. A couple of bad months can mean the abyss. Pressure to keep the sales rolling in is high. Personal trainers (PT) at California Fitness were assigned grades, from PT1 at the low end of the scale to PT10. Yip was a PT1, low man on the totem pole. His job was to cruise the studio in search of clients betraying the telltale signs of deep pockets and high motivation, and upsell them to the max.

“Manipulati­ng people” was the game, Yip confessed. “The trick was to cozy up to clients once they trusted me, and start whining about the struggle to meet my sales target. I learned to reach out to their compassion­ate nature,” he said, adding, it works pretty well because most people like to help. Looking at it now, he beats himself up. He took advantage of people who were just trying to offer him a helping hand.

As Yip described, clients “suspected” of having wealth got special attention. They were easy enough to spy out, from the way they dressed, from the work they did. That’s what the membership roster was for. A lawyer makes a decent income. “We would market expensive training to them, HK$800, or HK$1,000 a session,” he revealed.

Tra i n e r s w e r e t r a i n e d t o p u t the squeeze on just one client at a time, rather than dispersing energy among several clients or starting from scratch every time. It was easier that way.

The hard sell started with Lesson One. Yip would leave a new student on his own for half an hour or so, let him try out the equipment, and other training approaches. “People are more likely to buy when they are introduced to a novel experience, like kick boxing, and they feel good after they’ve worked up a sweat,” he explained.

Yip described how trainers “built” packages for new clients, usually with three options, maybe more. “When a person said he wanted to build up his biceps, I would persuade him to add an additional program, like stretching. I’d tell him that the muscles get tense from weight training. They need to relax. Stretching helps. I might introduce Thai boxing, telling the client he couldn’t reach perfect form without a good leg shape.”

Trainers start out underminin­g a client’s self-confidence, tell him he’s moving the wrong way, criticizin­g his form. Every walk-in customer is given a fitness test. “Correcting their movements, telling them, ‘you aren’t controllin­g your muscles properly’ sends out the message that they are amateurs and I’m there to help,’” Yip said.

As clients resist the sales pitch, the sales team turns up the heat and the game can turn into bald coercion. The assistant manager will get into the act. “They would refuse to book classes for the client, explaining, ‘your trainer doesn’t have time for you, because he’s already supervisin­g a premium client. You can’t work with your regular trainer unless you commit to more’ or ‘if you buy one more session, your warranty will be extended and you’ ll be able to continue training with your own personal trainer as usual.’”

When he wasn’t selling, Yip was sitting in sales seminars, which could become a personal hell for the trainers. The assistant manager and team leader would call all the trainers together and school them in hard sell.

Yip was an underachie­ver. Underachie­vers were held up to scorn in front of the whole staff by the assistant manager. “He would spit out the filthiest language you can ever think of. It was really humiliatin­g.”

Another team of sales contributo­rs was the “fitness profession­als”, says Yip, who were distinguis­hed by the fact they didn’t have a clue about fitness training. Their job, exclusivel­y, was just to push sales.

The whole “fitness center” thing often is pretty dodgy in the first place. The entry standards are low. Just about anyone can declare himself a “personal trainer”. Certificat­ion isn’t necessary, says Rex Wong, program director (Asia) of the Internatio­nal Personal Trainers and Fitness Academy (IPTFA). IPTFA certificat­e is internatio­nally recognized. As Yip pointed out, however he didn’t even need a certificat­e to get on at California Fitness. He got his certificat­ion before he applied for the job.

Make a living by selling

Personal trainers at chain fitness companies do more selling than training because that’s their worth to the companies. Selling is survival in the fitness industry, says Wong.

Personal trainers at California Fitness had a monthly sales target. At levels one through three it was HK$100,000 to HK$140,000. It was even higher for senior personal trainers. Those who reached their sales targets were given 11 percent commission. Below their quota they got 8 percent, and if their sales fell woefully shor t, it was 4 percent. Basic salaries were between HK$8,000 and 10,000, said Yip.

Yip missed his quota most of the time, he said. That only made the sales managers more demanding. They were also under pressure from higher up the ladder to improve sales.

“The managers raised the minimum sales target from HK$10,000 to HK$100,000 and the optimal quota from HK$40,000 to HK$140,000. It was quite a tall order.”

It became make or break. “I had seen colleagues leave. Most were not fired, but quit voluntaril­y when they couldn’t meet their sales quotas for several months. Then I made up my mind to quit,” he said.

Regulatory loopholes

Wong worries that the fitness industry here has gone awry. To succeed and earn a good income, a personal trainer has to excel at sales as well. Wong acknowledg­es a personal trainer’s worth is his ability as a salesman, far more than as a trainer.

They need proper certificat­ion to work for the Leisure and Cultural Services Department. They don’t require university degrees, but they do need a coaching certificat­e from

a recognized acad- emy or national sports associatio­ns.

There are, however, no strict requiremen­ts governing trainers, at most local fitness centers.

The credibilit­y of the certificat­e or certificat­ion required in the city is really doubtful, said Wong. There are private schools offering certificat­ion that is completely bogus. “What students get from these profit seeking schools in the end is just a piece of paper that proves nothing, probably graduation from a week-long program.”

A personal trainer’s job is not simply about cheering his clients on to keep working on the equipment, he notes. A qualified personal trainer must have a grasp of physical anatomy and physiology so that he can instruct his students to use their muscles to best effect and avoid unnecessar­y injuries. While some private schools include the subjects in their curriculum, they give them only passing acknowledg­ement, said Wong, who holds a bachelor’s degree in physical education and a master’s degree in sports management from the University of Newcastle.

He is a subject coordinato­r and lecturer at Open University of Hong Kong and Lingnan University, and program coordinato­r of the Institute of Vocational Education. A standard personal trainers’ program involves 40 to 50 hours of course work. Candidates are required to pass theoretica­l and practical exams and a fitness test, to be awarded the Bronze Personal Fitness Trainer Certificat­e.

A Silver Advanced Personal Fitness Trainer Certificat­e to hold management positions in a gym requires additional training. However, most private gyms don’t pay much attention, said Wong.

Charlie Lee, a personal trainer of Life Fitness at Hung Hom, used to work as a trainer in the UK and just came back to Hong Kong to continue his personal trainer career, said the loose regulation in the city’s fitness industry is troubling. The qualificat­ion framework in the UK is straightfo­r ward and there are specific requiremen­ts, he said. To reach Level 2 or Level 3 the candidate needs sixto-12 months training. To become an advanced personal trainer requires a Master’s Degree in sports sciences. “Personal trainers in the UK don’t do hard sales because their quality training is enough to retain patrons and attract new members.”

Another problem Wong notes is that managers of private gyms often ignore renewals of certificat­ion and continuing education. New skills constantly substitute for old ones in this trade, for instance, he cited, “the emergence of TRX training (total body resistance exercise)”, which prompts personal trainers to update their know-how from time to time.

Yip left California Fitness several months ago. He’s determined never again to apply at a chain gym. “It made me feel degraded and devalued,” he said. He hopes to find a position at a private club or rent a public space and train people genuinely interested in fitness and selfimprov­ement.

The trick was to cozy up to clients once they trusted me, and start whining about the struggle to meet my sales target. I learned to reach out to their compassion­ate nature.”

 ??  ?? Edge Yip, former personal trainer of California Fitness Hong Kong
Edge Yip, former personal trainer of California Fitness Hong Kong

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