My 12 year-old self wouldn’t believe it.
If I could go back in time and tell him that he’d grow up and sit, one-on-one, with the Editor In Chief of Marvel Comics brainstorming ideas - and that he also worked and got to know a bunch of professional wrestlers - he would have either thought a) that he grew up to be the coolest person on the planet or b) he was a compulsive liar.
Might as well throw in that he’d play guitar for Bruce Springsteen or power forward for the New York Knicks while I’m at it.
But the thing about the wrestlers and Marvel are absolutely true.
What I wouldn’t tell my wide-eyed, still head-full-of-hair pre-teenage self, however, is that those things aren’t always what they are cracked up to be.
I’ve told this story before (and, if you remember it, you are truly a superfan and I’ll be sending you a “I read Dan’s blog and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” in the mail soon) but it’s been a while and I used it to make a completely different point.
And if there’s anything I’ve learned as you get older is that you are contractually obligated to repeat the same stories ad-nauseum. It’s a prerequisite for enrollment in the AARP.
Back to the story.
I was sitting across the table from the head of Marvel Studios pitching ideas for product ads for the first Spider-Man movie (this was in my advertising days, if that wasn’t clear).
Meetings like this were nerve-racking. You sit in a nondescript conference room in front of a dozen people who barely give a shit while you do your best to channel a voice-over actor and sell the crap out of your scripts.
I was just finishing up reading a rousing 30 seconds of ad copy for a web-shooter for kids when the aforementioned studio exec turned to me and said:
“Dan, we don’t need all this Emily Dickinson bullshit.”
Was I crushed? Embarrassed? Angry?
Probably.
Was he right?
Yes.
And no.
Truth is, this guy’s goal was to sell as much plastic garbage to kids who, once again, were about to idolize Spider-Man.
My beautiful use of gerunds and adverbs were inconsequential to him.
Fair enough.
But my counter argument would be that you can still reach that goal while putting in some effort and delivering something that is more than just the minimum effective dose.
And such is the push-pull between commerce and art and it is something that is rather prevalent in the fitness business.
Luckily for me, I have access to and relationships with many gym owners and they face that same challenge.
The ones that struggle put too much effort into the art. It’s all about the program or equipment or execution.
The ones who run more successful (depending on how you define success) gyms are more interested in the business side of things. In Marvel terms, they’re just trying to sling as much plastic as possible.
There are obvious problems with both but I want to spend time focusing on this second group because you, dear reader, are more likely to fall victim to their priorities.
Because, if you are in a gym where management is making sure to deliver an unbelievable product, you're also likely to be happy and you aren’t going anywhere.
But you are much more likely to be drawn into gyms that make it their only priority to get your attention, lure you in and then, not really deliver what you are looking for.
They hire professional marketing teams, blast out the advertising, and aspire to grow to 90 facility chains in order to, hopefully, sell to some VC or get rolled up into another fitness brand.
And, let me be clear, there is nothing wrong with doing or chasing any of that. But it cannot come at the integrity of the product and the care of the community.
It’s staggering the number of times that I’ve heard from gym owners - who know better - that the programming doesn’t matter. That it’s just a numbers game. That you can’t have it both ways.
But at the risk of speaking from a place of relative incompetence (I have not taken on VC money nor do I have 90 gyms) I call bullshit.
Because if you really don’t care about the product. If you don’t have integrity to the craft. If you don’t have your members' best interest at the core of your business. Then what do you have?
So this is my hope for the industry. For those gym owners and coaches who have amazing products but are struggling, learn more about marketing or operations or whatever is holding you back. The industry needs you and you need to run a business that works.
For those of you looking to scale at all costs, go for it. I love reading success stories and it’s encouraging to see gym owners relishing in the success that other top industry leaders enjoy.
But what you are doing is more important than shilling plastic to kids who idolize a teenager in red and blue spandex. You are keeping people free of disease. You are allowing them to spend more time with their kids. You are building their confidence and self-love.
And if that isn’t worthy of some Emily Dickinson bullshit, I don’t know what is.