Fitness, Capitalism, and the Privilege Divide: A Delicate Balance

Ah, welcome. In ancient Norse tradition, they’d call this a thing, a gathering of minds and power, leading us today to confront an inconvenient truth of fitness. Fitness is  the epitome of modern aspirations: the pursuit of health, wellness, and beauty in a world that often feels out of reach to many. But beneath the glittering gym memberships, shiny personal trainers, and sleek athletic apparel, there's a rather inconvenient truth we often fail to acknowledge: fitness, in this capitalist society, has become a luxury, a privilege reserved for those fortunate enough to afford it. Now, we’ve heard the usual refrain: “You don’t need expensive equipment or fancy gyms to stay fit, just willpower and a good pair of shoes!” True, in theory. But, Our modern world doesn’t merely reward discipline; it rewards access. And access whether it’s to a pristine gym or premium workout supplements too often depends on your pocketbook and don't worry we will talk about marketing messages here in a minute.

So, let's not kid ourselves. We’ve all heard the stories the promises of achieving your best body in 30 days or transforming your life with a simple app. The marketing machine churns out catchy slogans that sound like they’ve come from the halls of Madison Avenue, but the reality? It’s far more complicated, far less inclusive. The fitness industry, like so many others, thrives in a capitalist environment that plays on the one truth we all know too well: in this world, those with money often have the best access. And let’s face it, fitness has become one of those access points where wealth equals wellness.

You see, at the heart of the issue is the uncomfortable intersection between capitalism and health. Fitness, once a basic human pursuit to stay active, has been commodified, and today, it’s marketed to the affluent. The high-end gym memberships, the fancy supplements, the top-of-the-line equipment, the personal trainers that charge as much as a down payment on a car these are all targeted at a demographic that can afford them. And what of the rest of the population? The ones who can’t afford $150 for a single training session or the high-priced yoga class? Well, they’re often left to deal with the fallout of this divided society where fitness becomes a matter of privilege.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're running a business. You've got overhead costs to cover, employees to pay, rent to meet, and taxes to file. You’re part of a system that demands you make a profit. If you charge less, you can’t afford the quality equipment, the personalized service, or the amenities that attract the higher-paying clients. Those clients, the ones who can drop $200 a month on a membership, are the ones who subsidize the less affluent. And if you don’t have those higher-paying clients? You don’t stay in business. Simple. But it’s the truth we’re all dancing around fitness isn’t just a product; it’s a luxury that’s been packaged, sold, and marketed in a way that leaves a large portion of society standing at the door without an invitation.

In a perfect world, fitness would be about equality, wouldn’t it? It would be about ensuring that anyone, no matter their income, could access the tools they need to live a healthy, active life. But we don't live in a perfect world. We live in a world where access to basic services healthcare, education, and yes, fitness often depends on how much money you have. Capitalism has woven itself into the fabric of our society in such a way that fitness has become just another commodity for those who can afford it, leaving the rest to scramble for scraps.

This isn’t just about a gym membership. It’s about an entire system that commodifies well-being, where those with financial privilege dictate the terms of what’s healthy and desirable, and those without it are left to either go without or settle for subpar alternatives. As business owners, we’re caught in the middle, having to balance the demands of profit with the reality that our pricing often excludes those who need fitness the most. It's a tough sell. It’s hard to reconcile the need for sustainability with the ethical implications of serving an audience that’s largely affluent while not leaving the rest behind.

Let’s talk about the elephant in the room: marketing. The fitness industry doesn’t just sell services it sells a lifestyle, a version of yourself that’s better, faster, stronger, and often… thinner. So, let’s be honest here, it’s not just about fitness anymore it’s about aesthetics. The marketing machine has cleverly intertwined the concept of fitness with an image of beauty that only a select few can ever truly attain. And who is that select few? The ones who can afford the aesthetics of the gym the fancy gear, the exclusive memberships, and, of course, the personal trainers who charge $100 an hour.

And all the while, those who don’t have that disposable income who are just trying to make it through another month are left to wonder why fitness and there for potentially health itself has become such a luxury. Why is it priced out of their reach? Why is fitness, a simple human need, so deeply entangled in an economic system that says, “If you can’t pay for it, you don’t deserve it.” This isn’t just about profits; this is about an entire system that has structured wellness in a way that excludes those who need it the most.

But, let’s not get lost in the doom and gloom here. Business owners, like yourself, are stuck in a system, yes. But that doesn’t mean you can’t acknowledge the divide. Recognize that there’s a larger conversation happening here, one that goes beyond marketing strategies and profit margins. Fitness, like all industries, is shaped by capitalism, but that doesn’t mean it can’t evolve. It doesn’t mean the conversation has to stop at profit it can expand to accessibility, to inclusivity, to a world where fitness isn’t a privilege, but a right.

You, as a business owner, are part of the conversation. And while you're not in charge of the whole system, the choices you make can either reinforce this divide or slowly begin to chip away at it. At the end of the day, fitness shouldn’t be determined by wealth it should be about the desire and access to improve oneself. And in that, perhaps, lies the possibility to Make Life More

Wildfires, Water Pistols, and Buried Bars: The Danger of Misleading Fitness Articles

Ah, welcome. In ancient Norse tradition, they’d call this a thing, a gathering of minds and power, leading us today to confront an inconvenient truth fitness articles dangling low-hanging fruit so enticingly that it’s no longer on the branch, but lying on the ground, overripe and rotting. “One 20-Minute Workout Per Week Might Be All You Need!” it proclaims, a shiny bauble of convenience. At first glance, it seems like a gift. But as with all things too good to be true, there’s a catch.

This isn’t an indictment of simplicity,

simplicity has its place. This is about the dangerous allure of an accurate yet sorely misrepresented idea. Allow me to explain why this article well-meaning though it may be likely no longer serves you and why embracing it now would be nothing short of a disservice.

The articles, drawn from the Journal of Strength and Conditioning Research, boasts impressive first-year results: chest-press strength increased by 50%, leg-press strength by 70%. Extraordinary gains, on the surface. But dig deeper. This seven-year study reveals that those stellar numbers dwindle over time. Why? Because the human body is a brilliant adapter. It rises to meet the challenge, but without progression, it plateaus. At best, it stagnates. At worst, it begins a free fall.

This article’s promise is designed for the young and the uninitiated, for those taking their first tentative steps into fitness. For them, it’s a starting line—and a poor one at that. For you? It’s more likely a step back, a retreat, a white flag of surrender.

Here lies the larger problem. By the time we reach our 40s, our muscles are no longer passive assets. They’re battlegrounds. Sarcopenia, the gradual loss of muscle mass, is a relentless foe. It doesn’t ask permission; it simply takes. And one short session a week? That’s akin to fighting a wildfire with a squirt gun.

What’s required isn’t the least you can do it’s the most you can do efficiently. Two or three sessions a week. Compound lifts. Functional movements. Progressive overload. A diet rich in protein to fuel recovery. A regimen that blends strength, mobility, flexibility, and cardiovascular health.

Articles like this, with their low-hanging fruit, may be well-intentioned, but they do more harm than good. They whisper the sweet lies of mediocrity to those who should be reaching higher. They’re a permissive parent, swapping the broccoli of truth for the green gummy bears of convenience, simply because they’re the same color. They’re not a roadmap; they’re a cul-de-sac.

These types of articles, well-meaning as it may be, paint a ridiculous picture that has real consequences. It doesn’t lower the bar; it buries it in the sand and encourages others to bury their heads right alongside it, only to wonder later why their time feels wasted and their results are minimal. Thus, they slide backward even further.

This article doesn’t apply to you anymore. You’ve outgrown it. And that, my friends, is not just progress it’s triumph. It's time to Make Life More

Gamification vs. Grit Finding your truth in fitness

Picture this: a crisp afternoon, a backyard football game with rules so simple they practically begged to be broken. Two-hand touch, flag football—a promise of order in a world that thrives on chaos. Inevitably, it only took about five plays before everything devolved into full-contact chaos. Shirts ripped, egos bruised, and someone usually ended up limping home all part of the unspoken ritual that made those afternoons unforgettable. It wasn’t just a game; it was a chaotic dance of pride, grit, and the raw energy of youth. It wasn’t because we didn’t understand the rules; it was because rules were never what drew us to the game in the first place. It was the thrill of the tackle, the unrestrained competition, and the instincts of what brought us to the game. Scores were settled, anger dissipated, and some of us even found peace in the chaos. No amount of structure could hold back what the game was  for us at its center. It always came back to its roots depending on the individual. No let me be clear here that didn't meant it was always a smart thing,  But as an adult we need to acknowledge the emotion honesty of those moments as we move on to better decisions. 

Fast forward to today, and I see the same attempts to impose structure on the chaotic beauty of fitness. The growing obsession with gamification—VR workouts, glowing apps, leaderboards—feels like an attempt to dress up something simple and timeless, to put cheese around a pill. As one recent article noted, Gen Z is particularly drawn to these immersive and interactive experiences, with gamification serving as a way to attract younger demographics who prioritize fun and novelty in their fitness routines. It’s a clever distraction for those who think they need it, but here’s the truth: once the shine wears off, you’re left with what fitness has always been about discipline, effort, and connection. Much like those luxury amenities  in condo complexes that often sit unused, gamification offers the allure of something enticing and new the promise of making exercise feel effortless, immersive, and engaging in a way that taps into our modern need for instant gratification and if that gets one going then fabulous but be prepared for when the game becomes boring or expensive or not interesting or Denise from the office moves on to something else leaving you alone at 5 in the morning on a rower. More often than not, it ends up underused and forgotten, a passive generator of fleeting interest rather than genuine engagement.

Fitness, like that backyard football game, always returns to its roots. It’s not about the bells and whistles, the fancy tech, or the promise of effortless progress. It’s about showing up, moving your body, and finding joy in the work itself for whatever unique reason you bring to the table. The tools we add might make the process easier or more enticing for a while, but they’ll never replace the satisfaction of putting in the effort for its own sake.

And here’s where the analogy deepens. If the passion isn’t there and you’re only showing up because the doctor said so or the scale demands it, you’re no longer creating; you’re manufacturing. And that’s okay manufacturing has its place. It brings consistency, structure, and reliability. But it’s not where fulfillment lives. Passion is the lifeblood of creation, and when you’re in that space, you’re not just building muscle or burning calories. You’re making something meaningful a stronger body, a clearer mind, a better version of yourself.

The problem with chasing trends is they prioritize novelty over authenticity, production over creation. They’re designed for short attention spans, not for the long haul. And when the shiny objects lose their luster as they always do what remains is what’s always been there: the fundamentals. The basics of effort, discipline, and a little grit. The real challenge isn’t finding the next big thing to get you motivated. It’s rediscovering the roots that keep you moving forward when the glitz fades.

At the end of the day, fitness—and life—is about making things more. Like that backyard football game, it’s about stripping away the excess and finding the purpose, the connection, and the raw effort that make it all worthwhile: more meaningful, more connected, more alive. Don’t settle for distractions. Find the roots, embrace the work, and make life more.

Icing and Exercise : Why online may not be the way to go.

Ah, the holiday season. A time for warmth, cheer, and naturally engaging in the age-old tradition of cookie making. This past weekend, my girlfriend and I ventured into this festive territory, reaching the step she most dreads: the royal icing. Now, for those unfamiliar, royal icing is a culinary paradox a simple concoction of three ingredients: egg whites, vanilla extract, and confectioners’ sugar. But its simplicity belies its complexity. The magic lies in the consistency, achieved through the delicate addition of water, which allows it to serve its multifaceted purpose.

To hone our royal icing craft, we turned to the omniscient teacher of our age: YouTube. We sought guidance on the elusive "flood" icing a smooth, glossy surface that transforms cookies into edible art. The technique involves adding water to the base mixture, creating various consistencies measured by how long it takes the icing to settle into a smooth surface: ten-second icing, twenty-second icing, and so on.

We stumbled upon a video with excellent production value. A pristine kitchen set, a clear view of the process, and a well-paced explanation of steps. As the creator piped the icing onto the cookie, they narrated the process with authority, counting aloud to ten to illustrate the ten-second rule. And then, with apparent confidence, they declared the cookie done.

I hit pause.

The icing wasn’t smooth. Blobs and air bubbles marred the surface. I rewound the video, counting silently as the icing continued to settle. At twenty-seven seconds, it finally achieved the promised smoothness. Not ten seconds twenty-seven. Again, I rewound, counted, and confirmed. The icing was decidedly not ten-second icing. Why claim otherwise?

The answer, I suspect, lies in post-production. The script said ten seconds, the editing reinforced it, and so ten seconds it was reality be damned.

Now, what does this have to do with fitness?

Let’s make a few substitutions. Imagine the creator is a fitness instructor delivering online programming. The icing becomes an exercise seemingly simple yet intricate, with layers of complexity. The cookie flooding is the performance of the exercise. And just as with the icing video, many fitness demonstrations fail to reflect reality. The instructor’s squat, meant to serve as the gold standard, often reveals flaws: a collapsing knee, a forward-leaning torso compensations that contradict their verbal instructions.

Where does this leave you, the consumer? Like the cookie, if your icing your exercise fails to match the example, frustration sets in. You assume the problem lies with you. You followed the instructions, yet the result is lumpy, uneven, painful even. The truth is, the flaw often lies not with you but with the demonstration itself. Without an understanding of your body’s unique variables its imbalances, its compensations you’re left to repeat movements that may ultimately lead to discomfort and disillusionment.

At MyoBio, we pride ourselves on a different approach. With over thirty years of experience, we identify imbalances and pinpoint compensations that hold you back. Your body carries its own history, its own narrative. It’s our job to listen, to interpret, and to guide you toward movement that is not just functional but transformative.

So this holiday season, as you flood your cookies or tackle your squats, remember: the key lies in understanding, not just following. And on that note, I’m off to enjoy a well-earned cookie. Happy Holidays, everyone.Make Life More

Fitness in the time of c.19

As Columbus, Ohio considers how people can begin to reacclimate to life during COVID-19, the fitness industry is presented with a dilemma: how to welcome people back safely considering the very nature of the environment involves close contact and touching shared surfaces?

Has anyone EVER felt good walking around in bare feet in a gym locker room? 

How about high-touch surfaces like exercise machines, weights, railings, and lockers? 

Big box gyms are making their customers the first--and often, only--line of defense against transmission. Usually something like "You will be asked to sanitize equipment before and after using it." But we all know Those People in the gym that are oblivious to their impact on the facility and its patrons. Other people mean well but aren’t thorough enough and this doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, either. 

I've been reading how equipment has been spaced out to allow for physical distancing. Facilities implementing physical distancing from personal training sessions to the weight racks and cardio machines. However, if you have been to a franchise facility lately you know that 6 feet of space in the free weight areas and squat rack doesn’t exist. 

Physical distancing is an admirable sentiment but it also pushes against their business model. Box gyms jam as many treadmills into their square footage as possible for peak hours of use. How long till the need to maintain massive overhead wins out, and owners stop enforcing physical distance because “everyone here is healthy.” 

So what is the solution? Perhaps it is time to consider a new facility in your community. REFIT offers individual training by appointment, and we always have. Our first statement about cleaning and sanitizing has nothing to do with you, the client wiping down anything, and everything about holding us accountable. Beating COVID-19 is a group project. We’re doing our part by maintaining an immaculate space so you can focus on fitness at REFIT. 

Our protocols include: 

• Only 1 client in the facility at a time, even during transitioning from one appointment to the next.

• Each client has a distinct pair of sanitized handles for variable resistance work so you’ll be the only person to touch them.

• Employees wear masks during sessions and are adept in giving instruction while maintaining physical distance. 

• We ask that clients wear a mask during training unless a medical condition makes it impossible to do so.

• All equipment is cleaned before opening, wiped down between clients and wiped down almost immediately after use.

A smaller space catering to those who don't wish to be exposed to a big box style gym is what we are about at The REFIT Group. We can do much more than memes about physically distancing cardio machines. It's this attention to detail that allows us to take these extra steps and give you the safest experience that we can. 

At REFIT we want to give you one less thing to worry about as you resume your life. Focus on fitness, let us focus on the rest. 

Everyday People Every Day Fitness

Is the new face of fitness behind a mask?