Gyms need to offer more than just a workout
Lockdowns have changed our relationship with exercise – so what will it take to get us back in the gym, wonders Poorna Bell
After a year of working out in front of a laptop at home, some people couldn’t wait to sprint back to the gym when they reopened on Monday. But three lockdowns in the last year have prompted us to rethink behaviours that we previously did on autopilot, including our fitness routines.
We’ve had to figure out life outside of the gym and managed to do so, and there are signs that many won’t be renewing their subscriptions. Meanwhile, the massive surge in online and home workouts has made fitness accessible to people who may have felt too intimidated to step into a gym. So is this the end?
The answer is probably no. As convenient as home workouts are, there is no substitute for the real thing, in the same way that you would probably choose a real-life pub quiz over one conducted on Zoom.
But while writing my book last summer about the connection between physical and mental strength, and more specifically looking at blockers around fitness, it was clear that gyms are problematic spaces for many. And, if they are to compete with the non-judgmental atmosphere of working out from home – and thus survive a tough economic future – commercial chains in particular would do well to reframe the experience as one that is enjoyable and fosters community.
I first joined a gym in the early 2000s, wearing my dad’s T-shirt and oversized jogging bottoms, trying to be as invisible as possible. It would have been inconceivable to me back then that I would become an amateur competitive powerlifter and the gym an important part of my social life.
But the things I used to hate about the gym, I no longer do. Primarily, this is because I do an activity I love (weight training), in an environment I like spending time in.
I’m one of many people who have gravitated towards specific gyms and fitness centres with a strong sense of community, alongside an ethos of getting fit in a way that’s right for me rather than being barked at and held up to some arbitrary ideal of what fitness and athleticism should look like.
Now, it’s where I go not just for my physical health. For many of us, the act of movement as well as the camaraderie we experience helps to mitigate loneliness, and is an essential part of our emotional maintenance.
That positive connection between body and mind was something starkly highlighted by the closure of gyms. While it should never be framed as a “solution” for mental health problems, not being able to access gyms led to a step-change in how we talked about exercise, and its role in our mental well-being.
Before I joined my current gym, Elevate – a place that specialises in Brazilian ju-jitsu as well as weight training – my experience of gyms had been mostly negative. In a survey
I ran of just over 1,000 girls and women aged from 12 to 71-plus, the gym came out as the least popular place to work out in, with reasons ranging from feeling intimidated to being patronised, only seeing posters featuring people who were super lean, not seeing any older or plus-size personal trainers, and gyms not being adaptable or welcoming for people with disabilities. Anecdotally, many men I know aren’t immune to feeling like this either.
If gyms want their members back, they have to offer something more evolved than guilt-tripping people into working out. The bigger gyms could afford to take notes from smaller ones that have a stronger sense of community. I asked my trainer Jack Toczydlowski, who is also one of the owners of Elevate, how they do it. He said they wanted their gym to be a place people look forward to going to, rather than dread.
“Fitness means different things to different people, so trying to fit everyone into the same pigeonhole just won’t cut it,” he says. “And the ethos for us initially was to create a gym that people didn’t want to leave. If coaches, trainers, and gym owners encourage, support, and celebrate their members’ pursuits and goals (whatever they are) then no one has a reason to feel inadequate. Then you see members doing that for one another too, and it’s a positive perpetual motion.”
Jack takes a gender-neutral approach when it comes to strength training, which has resulted in more women taking up lifting in the gym; there are strength training bootcamps for beginners or anyone feeling intimidated and, pre-covid, a monthly team training day that ended with dinner.
Fabien Strawbridge created the Underdog Gym, a boutique operation, as a response to the toxic gym culture he had experienced. The gym is tiny, but it is set near some wetlands and there is a planting scheme in the outdoor workout area to encourage wildlife to come close. There’s no loud music, and Strawbridge has chosen low-impact equipment such as water rowers. They also allow people to bring their dogs if it helps them feel more comfortable. “Our clients tell us we’re different because of our three founding mindful, empathy principles,” Strawbridge says. “We listen. We don’t mansplain. And we give our clients options. The latter reminds them they’re always in control, which builds selfempowerment.”
Another gym I love attending is the Foundry, which has several locations in London. Co-founder Dave Thomas says that they use gender-neutral language – members are called “legends” not guys or ladies – they use diverse imagery, have a “tops on” training policy and celebrate achievement over aesthetics.
This also extends to their hiring practices – they look for personality and positive energy – and underline the connection to mental well-being.
“We encourage our members to notice how they’re feeling,” he says, “rather than just how they look”.
Smaller gyms can arguably more easily offer a community-based experience than chains which meet different needs around affordability and accessibility. But the fact remains that the gym is like any other workplace that offers a service. A good culture arises from attitude and a vision of being the best version of itself. Many people haven’t felt that in a gym, and some have been put off enough never to want to step foot in one ever again.
But I have seen how fulfilling and connected it can make you feel. None of it involves spending vast amounts of money, and all of it is about connection, community and positivity. Three things that, after a gruelling 12 months, people will love.
If gyms want their members back, they have to do more than guilt-trip people into working out