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Blink on Steinway as it was, plus double rainbow |
Our local, low-cost gym was Blink, on Steinway Street. Their primary color was orange, and there was a cheery all-are-welcome vibe about the place. That was even set out explicitly in their slogans, “The gym for every body”, and “Mood above muscle”.
You would swipe in with a tag on your keychain at the front desk, where two employees were on hand to welcome customers and help out with anything that might come up. In the locker rooms of course the general vibe was people plugged into their own content on their phones, going about their business while listening to music, or a podcast, or calling a friend.
But sometimes there’d be chit chat among the gym-goers. I remember getting into a discussion with two other women, one much older than me, one younger, about mountains or big hills we had either climbed, or would like to climb. I haven’t climbed many (despite that being on my “forty before forty” list), but I mentioned that, like one of them, my sister once climbed Kilimanjaro. Invariably in front of the changing room’s wide mirror someone would be posing in a conscious yet unselfconscious way for selfies, holding their camera up at this angle or that to get the best shot.
Blink was owned by Equinox - a “luxury fitness and health club” company. Equinox in turn was (is) owned by the real estate conglomerate Related Companies, which in turn is owned by billionaire and Trump pal Stephen Ross. All those layers didn’t really make their presence felt in the Blink on Steinway. Until things began to change.
The first thing that happened was the name above the entrance. The bright lettering “Blink Fitness” was replaced with “PureGym” in teal green. Over a period of a few weeks, the cheesy signage inside ("I blink therefore I am", "Blink and be merry") switched to nondescript PureGym messaging and emergency cords marked with big red arrows went up on each wall.
Contractors came in and worked on an elaborate project in the entranceway, which turned out to be the installation of two of those revolving door containers that you get at airport security. Swipe your card, enter a plastic tube and the door revolves shut behind you. Wait a few seconds praying that the thing works, then the other side opens up and releases you into the gym. Then the reception table was removed, along with the employees who used to stand behind it.
Blink had gone bankrupt - the “mood above muscle” membership model hadn’t worked out for Equinox-Related-Ross. And PureGym bought them out. When I learned that PureGym is a UK company I thought, as an American Brit, ok, that’s kind of cool. But when I learned that PureGym is joint-owned by two private equity firms, Leonard Green & Partners and the giant KKR, I thought well that’s less cool. It explains why the gym now feels pretty much like an extraction machine, even if it is less crowded as the “bring a friend once a week for free” perk has gone and the equipment paired down a bit accordingly. Gone are the elements of fun and the presence of human staff, so that our weight-lifting tread-milling bodies generate healthy corporate returns.
I still go a couple of times a week. One time I thought I’d make more of an effort to chat with other gym goers to compensate for the overall reduced humanity but my conversant’s politics riled me up and I went back to listening to my music, watching the CNN headlines on the screens above my head, and bemoaning the increasing atomization of the world.
PureGym’s motto is a rather cold and functional: “stronger than yesterday.”
