Entrepreneurship, Stress and Why Success Means Nothing Without Your Health

 

There is a romanticised view of entrepreneurship that often dominates social media, business podcasts and networking events. We see the success stories, the growth, the new offices, the client wins and the financial rewards. We hear people talk about freedom, flexibility and being their own boss. Whilst all of those things can be true, they only tell part of the story.

The reality is that entrepreneurship can be one of the most rewarding journeys a person can undertake, but it can also be one of the most stressful.

When you own a business, there is no switch that turns off at the end of the day. The responsibility follows you everywhere. It sits with you when you wake up in the morning and often remains with you long after everyone else has gone to bed. The decisions you make affect not only your own future but also your staff, your clients, your suppliers and, in many cases, your family.

Over the years I have come to realise that entrepreneurship is not really about building a business. Building the business is the easy bit. The difficult part is managing yourself whilst doing it.

This year has reinforced that lesson more than any other period of my life.

Like many entrepreneurs, I have always believed that hard work solves most problems. If sales slow down, work harder. If a client needs support, work harder. If a project starts drifting off course, work harder. Throughout my career I have never been afraid of putting the hours in. Eighteen-hour days do not scare me. Early mornings and late nights have simply been part of the journey.

That mindset has undoubtedly helped me build businesses and overcome challenges. However, this year I was reminded that there are some things that hard work alone cannot fix.

Alongside running Black Raccoon Consulting, I found myself dealing with a cancer diagnosis and an ongoing battle with chronic fatigue. Neither of those things cared about my calendar, my business plans or my client commitments. They arrived regardless and forced me to confront something that I suspect many entrepreneurs quietly ignore.

We are not indestructible.

For years I had treated my own health as something that would fit around the business. Exercise would happen when I had time. Rest would happen when the work was done. Holidays would happen once things had calmed down.

The problem is that things never calm down.

There is always another project, another client, another opportunity, another challenge and another problem to solve. If you wait for the perfect moment to prioritise yourself, that moment never arrives.

What I learned this year is that your health cannot sit behind your business in the priority list.

It has to sit above it.

That may sound selfish to some people, but it is actually the opposite. The healthier you are physically and mentally, the more capable you are of supporting everyone around you. Your family benefits. Your team benefits. Your clients benefit. Your business benefits.

The mistake many entrepreneurs make is believing they are the business.

I know because I have done exactly the same thing.

When things become difficult, our instinct is often to take more responsibility. We work longer hours, involve ourselves in more decisions and carry more weight on our shoulders. It feels productive, but in reality it often creates a dangerous cycle where the business becomes increasingly dependent on one person.

If that person becomes ill, exhausted or overwhelmed, everything begins to suffer.

One of the reasons I decided to bring Russell into the business was not simply because I believed he could help us grow, although that is certainly true. It was also because I recognised the importance of sharing responsibility.

Entrepreneurs often talk about scaling their businesses, but very few talk about scaling the pressure.

For years, every challenge, every major decision and every responsibility sat with me. Whilst I was fortunate to have fantastic people around me, the reality was that the burden of ownership was largely mine to carry.

Bringing Russell into the business changed that.

Not because it removed challenges, but because it created somebody to share them with. Somebody who understands the industry, understands the business and understands the pressures that come with ownership. There is enormous value in having somebody who can challenge your thinking, offer perspective and, perhaps most importantly, help carry the load when things become difficult.

Entrepreneurship can be an incredibly lonely place. We often surround ourselves with people who see the successful version of us, whilst quietly dealing with concerns around cash flow, staffing, economic uncertainty and growth behind closed doors.

Having someone you trust to share that journey with is more valuable than most entrepreneurs realise.

One of the greatest sources of stress for business owners is the sheer number of things that sit outside our control. Economic downturns, interest rates, government policy, changing consumer behaviour and industry disruption all have the ability to influence our businesses. We spend countless hours worrying about these factors despite having little or no ability to change them.

As I have got older, I have become increasingly convinced that one of the keys to managing stress is learning the difference between what you can control and what you cannot.

You cannot control the economy.

You cannot control government decisions.

You cannot control what competitors do.

You cannot control whether a client decides to cancel.

What you can control is how you respond.

You can control your standards. You can control your effort. You can control the quality of your service. You can control your willingness to adapt. You can control the relationships you build and the culture you create.

When you focus your energy on those areas, stress becomes far easier to manage because your efforts are directed towards things that can actually create change.

Another lesson I have learned is that success has a habit of moving the goalposts.

Many entrepreneurs convince themselves that they will slow down once they reach a particular milestone. It might be a revenue target, a new site, a certain number of clients or a specific lifestyle goal.

The problem is that when we reach those milestones, we often replace them with new ones.

The target moves.

The pressure remains.

The hours stay long.

The balance never arrives.

That is why I no longer believe balance is something you achieve once the business becomes successful. I think it is something you deliberately create throughout the journey.

Making time for exercise is not a reward for success.

Spending time with your family is not something that should happen once the work is finished.

Taking holidays is not a luxury.

Protecting your mental health is not optional.

These things are essential parts of building a sustainable life and a sustainable business.

The irony is that many entrepreneurs work incredibly hard to create a better future for themselves and their families whilst simultaneously sacrificing the very things that future is supposed to provide.

We miss family moments.

We neglect friendships.

We ignore our health.

We delay happiness until some future date that may never arrive.

Cancer and chronic fatigue have a way of changing your perspective on that.

They force you to ask questions that perhaps you should have asked years earlier.

What is success actually for?

What are we building?

What matters most?

What would happen if everything stopped tomorrow?

For me, the answer has become increasingly clear.

Success is not simply about revenue, growth or profitability. Those things are important, but they are not the whole picture.

Success is being healthy enough to enjoy what you have built.

Success is having the energy to spend time with the people who matter most.

Success is building a business that supports your life rather than consumes it.

Success is recognising that whilst your business is important, it is not more important than you.

If there is one lesson I would share with fellow entrepreneurs, it is this.

Look after yourself first.

Not because the business does not matter, but because it does.

Your business needs you at your best.

Your team needs you at your best.

Your family needs you at your best.

And you cannot give your best to anyone if you are running on empty.

The business can survive a difficult month. It can survive a difficult year. It can survive setbacks, mistakes and challenges.

Sometimes, however, recovering yourself is much harder.

That is a lesson I wish I had understood earlier, but one I will carry with me for the rest of my entrepreneurial journey.

 

Is It Really Our Responsibility to Improve the Nation's Health?

There is, and always has been, a great deal of discussion within the fitness industry about the role we should play in improving the nation's health. It's one of those debates that resurfaces every few months, often triggered by a new government initiative, an industry report, concerns about NHS pressures, or yet another statistic highlighting rising obesity levels.

Over the years, I've had countless conversations about this topic. Some have been thoughtful and constructive, others more heated, but they almost always start from the same assumption: that the fitness industry has a responsibility to improve public health.

Until recently, I largely accepted that argument without questioning it too deeply. After all, we're in the fitness industry. Helping people become healthier is what we do, isn't it?

Then something struck me the other day that made me pause and reconsider the entire premise.

Is it actually our responsibility to improve the nation's health?

Or is our responsibility simply to run successful businesses that provide products and services people want to buy?

At first glance, that might sound like a cynical question. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realised that the answer isn't nearly as straightforward as many of us would like to believe.

The story that came to mind was that of Michelin. Today, Michelin is synonymous with restaurant ratings and fine dining. A Michelin Star can transform a restaurant's fortunes overnight and has become one of the most respected accolades in the hospitality industry. What many people don't realise, however, is that Michelin never set out to improve restaurants.

Michelin wanted to sell tyres.

In the early days of motoring, there simply weren't enough people driving. The company recognised that if it could encourage people to travel further and more often, they would wear out their tyres more quickly and need replacements. The Michelin Guide was born as a way of encouraging travel, promoting destinations and helping motorists find places to eat and stay.

The outcome was extraordinary. Restaurants benefited, standards improved and an entire industry evolved around the guide. Yet none of that was the primary objective. The objective was to sell more tyres.

That got me wondering whether our industry has fallen into a similar trap.

Because if we're honest, we are businesses first and foremost. We employ people, pay rent, manage cash flow, market our services and compete for customers. Like every other commercial sector, we need revenue, profit and sustainability if we're going to survive.

The fact that the service we provide happens to improve people's health is undoubtedly a wonderful thing. In fact, it's one of the reasons I have remained passionate about this industry for almost three decades. There aren't many sectors that can genuinely claim to improve both quality of life and longevity. We can.

That is something we should be incredibly proud of.

However, I increasingly question whether we should be positioning ourselves as the primary solution to the nation's health problems.

The obesity crisis is often cited as evidence that we should be doing more. Yet when we look objectively at the factors driving obesity, inactivity is only part of the story. Modern diets, highly processed foods, sugar consumption, sedentary lifestyles, urban planning, education and social behaviours all play significant roles.

The food industry, in particular, has had an enormous influence on public health outcomes. Entire product categories are engineered to maximise taste, convenience and repeat purchases. Consumers are surrounded by highly processed options that are often cheaper, more accessible and more heavily marketed than healthier alternatives.

Yet despite this, we rarely see the same expectation placed upon food manufacturers to solve the nation's health problems.

Instead, the responsibility often seems to find its way back to fitness operators.

We're expected to reduce obesity.

We're expected to relieve pressure on the NHS.

We're expected to improve national wellbeing.

We're expected to become a key pillar of public health policy.

It's a tremendous burden to place upon an industry that still struggles to engage the majority of the population.

Perhaps that is why I've started to wonder whether we are approaching the challenge from the wrong direction.

What if our focus shouldn't be on convincing people that exercise is good for them?

After all, most people already know that.

I've never met anyone who genuinely believes that sitting on the sofa all day is healthier than exercising. Most people understand the benefits of movement. They know exercise can help them lose weight, improve fitness, reduce stress and enhance their quality of life.

Knowledge is not the problem.

Engagement is.

The real challenge facing our industry isn't educating people about exercise. It's creating experiences that make them want to participate.

When consumers join our facilities, they are rarely buying health. They're buying confidence. They're buying enjoyment. They're buying community. They're buying friendship, motivation, entertainment, achievement and belonging. they they may come in with a fat loss aim or similar, but lets be honest with ourselves, if they dont enjoy it, feel part of something or feel motivated the fat loass aim wont keep them coming, so with that in mind is it really why they attend?

They want somewhere they feel comfortable.

They want somewhere they enjoy visiting.

They want an experience that makes them feel good about themselves.

In many ways, we're closer to hospitality than healthcare.

Nobody visits a restaurant because they're excited about the nutritional composition of the menu. They go because they want an enjoyable experience. The food is important, but the experience is what drives repeat visits.

The same principle applies to fitness.

People don't return because we've reminded them about obesity statistics. They return because they enjoyed themselves. They felt welcomed. They achieved something. They connected with others. They felt part of something bigger than themselves.

This is where I believe our industry sometimes takes itself too seriously.

We spend enormous amounts of time discussing our role in public health, yet perhaps we'd achieve more by focusing on creating experiences people genuinely love.

Because if we can make exercise enjoyable, people will do more of it.

If more people do it, they'll become healthier.

If they become healthier, society benefits.

The difference is that health becomes the outcome rather than the pitch.

One of the most fascinating examples of this in recent years has been Hyrox. Whether you personally love it or hate it is irrelevant. What Hyrox has achieved is remarkable because it understood something fundamental about human behaviour.

It didn't sell exercise.

It sold challenge.

It sold achievement.

It sold identity.

It sold community.

People train for Hyrox because it gives them a purpose beyond simply being fitter. The fitness is almost a by-product of the experience.

That raises an important question for the rest of us.

How do we create similar levels of engagement for the average person?

Not the athlete.

Not the fitness enthusiast.

Not the person already obsessed with training.

The average person who simply wants to feel better, look better and enjoy life.

How do we make movement something people genuinely look forward to?

How do we create environments that are welcoming rather than intimidating?

How do we build products that feel exciting rather than obligatory?

Because if we can answer those questions, I suspect we'll do far more for the nation's health than any awareness campaign ever could.

After nearly thirty years in this industry, I remain incredibly optimistic about what fitness can achieve. I just think we've become slightly distracted by trying to position ourselves as the solution to every public health challenge.

The reality is that we won't solve obesity on our own. We won't transform the NHS. We won't single-handedly make the nation healthier.

What we can do is create businesses that people love. We can provide experiences that inspire movement. We can build communities that support positive habits. We can help people feel stronger, happier and more confident.

And perhaps, in doing so, we'll improve the nation's health anyway.

Not because we set out to save it, but because we became exceptionally good at giving people something they genuinely wanted.

 

The Most Difficult Moment of My Consultancy Career

People often assume that the most difficult part of consultancy is solving business problems.

It isn't.

Most business problems are ultimately solvable. Sales can improve, retention can increase, systems can be fixed, teams can be developed and marketing can be refined. Whilst these challenges can be frustrating, they are rarely the moments that stay with you.

The hardest moments are rarely commercial.

They are human.

Over the years I have worked with hundreds of businesses and encountered all manner of challenges. I've seen businesses thrive, businesses struggle and businesses fail. I've seen owners achieve things they never thought possible and others face some incredibly difficult circumstances.

However, there is one moment that stands out above all others.

Even now, years later, I still think about it.

I won't name the company involved, and those who know the story will understand why. The purpose of telling it isn't to point fingers or reopen old wounds. The purpose is to share a lesson that fundamentally changed the way I think about business and the people within it.

At the time, I had been working with a franchise organisation. By this point I had already stopped working with them and had moved on professionally. However, one thing I have always believed is that relationships don't end simply because a contract does.

If I have worked with somebody, helped them or built a relationship with them, I generally stay in touch. That is just who I am.

One day I received a phone call from one of the franchisees.

Their business was failing.

Despite their efforts, despite the sacrifices they had made and despite trying everything they could think of, the numbers simply weren't stacking up. The business was heading towards closure and they couldn't see a way out.

As we spoke, the conversation became increasingly concerning.

Eventually they told me that the only thing they had left was their life insurance policy. They genuinely believed that their family would be financially better off without them than with them.

Even writing those words now feels uncomfortable.

For context, their business sat next to both a canal and a major train station.

You can probably understand why alarm bells immediately started ringing in my head.

This was no longer a business conversation.

This was a person in crisis.

A husband.

A parent.

A human being who had reached the point where they could no longer see a way forward.

I immediately raised my concerns with the franchise organisation. To their credit, I was assured that the situation would be addressed and that support would be provided.

I left that conversation believing action would be taken.

A couple of weeks later my phone rang again.

It was the franchisee.

Nothing had changed.

No meaningful support had been provided. No intervention had taken place. No apparent urgency had been shown.

At that point I realised this wasn't something I could simply assume somebody else would handle.

This time I formally documented my concerns and put them directly in writing to the CEO. I wanted there to be absolutely no ambiguity about the seriousness of the situation and the potential consequences of failing to act.

That finally forced movement.

But unbelievably, that wasn't the end of the story.

A few weeks later the business closed its doors.

The franchisee had run out of options.

The club was finished.

What happened next probably shocked me more than anything that came before it.

Whilst the owner was dealing with the emotional devastation of losing their business, there seemed to be more concern from the franchisor about removing signs and protecting the brand than supporting the people involved.

Staff still needed answers.

Employees still needed guidance.

Redundancies needed explaining.

People's livelihoods were being affected.

Yet support appeared remarkably absent.

I remember sitting there thinking that regardless of what had happened commercially, these were still human beings.

These were people who had invested their lives, their money, their hopes and their energy into a business.

They deserved better.

So I arranged childcare for my children, got in the car and travelled to the club.

Not because I was being paid.

Not because it was my responsibility.

Not because there was any commercial benefit whatsoever.

I went because it felt like the right thing to do.

Together with the owner, we sat down with staff, explained the situation and talked them through the redundancy process. We answered questions, provided reassurance where we could and simply tried to be there during an incredibly difficult moment.

I often reflect on that day.

Not because of the business failure.

Businesses fail. It happens.

Not because of the commercial loss.

Money can be rebuilt.

What stays with me is how close somebody came to believing they had no other option.

That is what I remember.

For me, that experience was the moment consultancy stopped being primarily about business and became much more about people.

The experience reinforced something I had always believed but perhaps had never fully appreciated. Who you choose to work with matters. Values matter. Character matters.

Expertise is important and commercial success is important, but neither tells you very much about how somebody will behave when things become difficult. It is easy to be supportive when businesses are growing, profits are increasing and everyone is winning. The true measure of a person, a leader or an organisation is how they behave when things go wrong.

One of the reasons I am incredibly selective about the businesses and individuals I work with today is because of experiences like this. I have no interest in working with people who see business purely as a commercial transaction. Of course businesses need to be profitable and commercially successful, but that should never come at the expense of basic human decency.

What struck me most throughout the entire experience was how quickly people can become numbers. Membership numbers. Revenue numbers. Profit numbers. Franchise numbers. Yet behind every one of those figures is a person. A family. A story. A set of pressures and worries that most people never see.

The business owner at the centre of this story was not a number on a spreadsheet. They were somebody who had invested their savings, their hopes and a huge part of their life into creating something meaningful. When that dream began to fall apart, what they needed most was not another business strategy, another spreadsheet or another report. They needed support. They needed reassurance. They needed somebody willing to stand beside them and help them navigate one of the most difficult periods of their life.

That experience taught me one of the most important lessons of my career. Not everything we do should be driven by money. Not every decision should be based on commercial return. Sometimes the right thing to do is simply the right thing to do.

Looking back, it remains the most difficult moment of my consultancy career, not because it involved a failing business, but because it involved a person who genuinely believed there was no way forward. The thought that somebody could reach that point whilst feeling unsupported by the people around them is something that has stayed with me ever since.

Thankfully, that story did not end in tragedy. However, it easily could have done, and that is why I continue to tell it.

In an industry that spends so much time talking about growth, profitability and success, it is worth remembering that business is ultimately about people. The numbers matter, but the people behind the numbers matter far more.

My hope is that none of us ever become so focused on success, growth or protecting a brand that we forget our responsibility to the human beings around us. Because long after the revenue figures have been forgotten and the businesses have changed hands, what people tend to remember is how they were treated when they needed help the most.

For me, that will always be the true measure of success.

The most overlooked problem in franchising isn't recruitment

 

The most overlooked problem in franchising isn't recruitment

One of the themes that seems to come up time and time again in my conversations lately is franchise support.

Over the last few months I’ve spoken to franchisees from established brands, franchisees from emerging brands, people who have recently left franchise systems and others who are still operating within them but are becoming increasingly frustrated.

What’s interesting is that many of the conversations end up in exactly the same place.

Not marketing.

Not lead generation.

Not competition.

Support.

Or more specifically, the lack of it.

The reality is that most franchise brands put a huge amount of time, effort and money into recruiting franchisees. They build recruitment websites, attend exhibitions, run discovery days, create franchise brochures and spend significant sums attracting people into the network.

Yet once that franchisee signs the agreement and opens the doors, the intensity of support often starts to fade.

Not always.

There are some brilliant franchisors out there who genuinely care about the success of their franchisees and remain heavily invested in helping them grow.

But equally, I’ve seen franchise systems where support becomes reactive rather than proactive. Franchisees are left to work things out for themselves, they lose direction, performance drops and frustration begins to build.

The irony is that many of these franchisees didn’t join because they wanted complete independence.

If they wanted that, they would have started their own business.

They joined because they wanted systems, structure, accountability, support and access to experience that would help them avoid mistakes and accelerate growth.

That’s what they’ve bought into.

As a franchisor, there is a responsibility that comes with bringing somebody into your network. They have invested their capital, committed their time and put their trust in your brand. The sale should never be viewed as the end of the process. In many ways, it’s the point where the real work begins.

The strongest franchise systems I’ve seen aren’t necessarily the ones with the best recruitment marketing.

They’re the ones that remain consistently engaged with their franchisees years after they joined.

They provide direction.

They challenge performance.

They share best practice.

They create accountability.

They help franchisees navigate difficult periods as well as celebrate the good ones.

At the same time, if you’re a franchisee reading this and feel like you’ve lost some of that support, don’t assume you have to struggle through it alone.

A fresh pair of eyes can often make a huge difference.

Myself and Ryan Charlesworth at Black Raccoon Consulting regularly support franchisees and franchisors across areas including:

📈 Sales performance

🎯 Lead generation and conversion

🔄 Retention and member experience

📊 Reporting and KPIs

👥 Team development

🚀 Multi-site growth

🏢 Franchise development

💡 Operational performance

🤝 Strategic partnerships

Ultimately, successful franchising isn’t just about recruiting great franchisees.

It’s about helping them become successful once they’re in the system.

I’d be interested to hear other people’s thoughts.

 

The State of the Nation Report: Great News, But Let's Not Ignore the Bigger Questions

The recent State of the Nation Report has been welcomed across the fitness industry and rightly so.

Membership numbers are growing. Participation is increasing. More people than ever are engaging with gyms, health clubs and fitness facilities across the UK.

At a time when many industries continue to face economic challenges, these are achievements worth celebrating. Every additional person who becomes active is a win for our industry and a win for the nation's health.

However, whilst I fully support celebrating the positive news, I also think it's important that we don't simply focus on the headlines and ignore some of the underlying questions.

Now I'm sure some people will accuse me of being a negative Nelly for even suggesting this.

That's not the intention.

In fact, quite the opposite.

If we genuinely want to grow participation and improve the health of the nation, then we need to be prepared to critically evaluate the data, understand its limitations and focus on the challenges that still exist.

One of the first questions that comes to mind is the integrity of the data itself.

Having worked within the fitness industry for 28 years, I've seen first-hand the quality of data management across many operators. Many clubs do an excellent job, but many don't. Cancelled members remain on freeze, old records remain active and databases are not always managed consistently. If membership numbers are being extracted from systems that aren't maintained effectively, it is fair to question how accurate some of those figures really are.

Another area that deserves attention is participation.

Whilst the report highlights increases in participation, how confident can we be in those numbers when so many clubs don't accurately track member usage? Some operators have sophisticated reporting and know exactly who is active and who isn't. Others don't. A membership tells us somebody is paying. It doesn't necessarily tell us they are exercising.

That becomes even more relevant when we consider sleeper members.

Many clubs have significant numbers of members who continue paying every month but rarely visit. In some businesses that figure can be as high as 20%. If that were replicated across the industry, we could potentially be looking at millions of members paying but not participating. That's great for revenue, but less impressive when our purpose as an industry is supposedly to improve health outcomes.

Then there is the issue that rarely gets enough attention: retention.

Many operators celebrate achieving monthly attrition below 5%, but let's put that into context. A 5% monthly attrition rate equates to roughly 60% of your membership base leaving every year.

Using the report's membership figures, that could mean as many as 7.5 million memberships being cancelled annually.

Yes, some of those people will join another facility.

Yes, some will return later.

But many won't.

Which raises an important question.

Why are so many people leaving?

In the clubs we work with, one of the biggest opportunities is rarely sales. It's onboarding, engagement and retention. Most clubs don't have a structured onboarding programme. Many don't maintain regular communication with members. Few can confidently tell you every member's goal, whether they're achieving it and what support has been provided to help them succeed.

As an industry, we spend huge amounts of money and effort driving new memberships because acquisition is easy to measure and easy to celebrate.

Retention is harder.

Community is harder.

Member success is harder.

But ultimately, that's where the greatest opportunity lies.

What also interests me is the longer-term perspective.

The report suggests we are now sitting at around 18% penetration.

That's positive.

But when I joined the industry 28 years ago, we were around 14%.

Whilst progress has undoubtedly been made, it isn't exactly a dramatic shift when viewed over nearly three decades.

More than 80% of the population still aren't members of a gym or health club.

For an industry built around improving health, that should concern us.

We should also consider whether some of the reported growth is the result of broader inclusion criteria. The fitness landscape has changed dramatically over the years. Boutique studios, functional fitness facilities, recovery centres, reformer Pilates studios and many other concepts are now part of the wider fitness sector in ways they weren't previously. Equally, many clubs may not even be included in the reporting depending on how the data is collected.

Again, this isn't a criticism of the report.

It's simply an acknowledgement that reports are often used for multiple purposes. They help influence government policy, support investment decisions and demonstrate industry growth. Naturally, they tend to focus on positive outcomes.

And that's fine.

But alongside celebrating the wins, we should also be prepared to ask the difficult questions.

Because growth won't come from celebrating success alone.

It will come from understanding our shortcomings.

The report gives us plenty to be positive about.

But if we truly want to grow beyond 18% participation, improve public health and build a stronger industry, we need to spend just as much time discussing why people leave, why they disengage and why more than 80% of the population still choose not to join.

A Final Thought on Industry Research

There is one final point worth considering.

Many of the reports and surveys we discuss within the fitness industry are treated almost as fact, yet very few people ever question how the information was gathered in the first place.

Did you know that a survey can often be considered nationally representative with a sample size of around 2,000 respondents?

Statistically, that may be perfectly acceptable.

Intuitively, however, many people struggle with the idea that the views of 2,000 individuals can accurately represent the behaviours, motivations and opinions of more than 60 million people.

Then we have to consider who actually completes surveys.

The reality is that survey respondents are rarely a random cross-section of the population. They are typically people willing to give up their time to answer questionnaires, which in itself creates a level of selection bias.

We should also consider where respondents are sourced from.

Which operators are involved?

Which demographics are represented?

Which geographical areas are covered?

How many independent operators are contributing compared to larger chains?

Many independent clubs won't belong to organisations such as UK Active, CIMSPA or other industry bodies, making them less likely to be represented in some industry-wide studies.

And perhaps most importantly, we should consider the design of the questions themselves.

Anyone who has worked with research knows that question design can dramatically influence outcomes.

I recently saw research suggesting that mental health was the primary reason people join gyms.

Now, before anyone sharpens their pitchforks, I'm not suggesting mental health isn't an important benefit of exercise. It absolutely is.

But when I looked more closely at the methodology, respondents were allowed to select multiple reasons for exercising rather than ranking them in order of importance.

That's a very different question.

A member whose primary goal is weight loss may also tick mental health because exercise makes them feel better.

A member focused on strength training may do exactly the same.

Someone exercising for sport performance may also recognise mental health benefits.

The result?

Weight loss might be selected by 50% of respondents.

Strength training by 50%.

But mental health by 90% or more.

That doesn't necessarily mean mental health was the primary motivation for joining.

It simply means it was a widely recognised benefit.

The distinction matters.

Because if we misinterpret the data, we risk building products, services and marketing strategies around the wrong assumptions.

None of this means the reports are wrong.

Far from it.

It simply means that all research should be viewed through a critical lens.

Good reports should start conversations, not end them.

And perhaps that's the biggest point of all.

The value of reports isn't that they provide absolute truth.

The value is that they encourage us to ask better questions.

Because if we continue to challenge assumptions, question methodologies and explore what sits beneath the headlines, we'll gain a far deeper understanding of both the opportunities and challenges facing our industry.

And that understanding is ultimately what will help us grow.

The Bias We Don’t Like to Admit Exists in Customer Service

 

The Bias We Don’t Like to Admit Exists in Customer Service

A few days ago, my daughter and her boyfriend, both 17, went out for dinner at what should have been a really nice restaurant experience.

Instead, they waited around an hour and a half before being properly served.

Eventually, I stepped in and spoke to the manager and we are still in discussions on this one

Bias.

Because if I’m honest, I strongly suspect the experience would have been very different had a middle-aged couple in business attire walked through the door instead of two teenagers.

And that’s uncomfortable to admit.

But it happens everywhere. Including in our industry.

Human beings are naturally wired to make quick assumptions. Psychologists refer to this as unconscious bias or implicit bias. These are the automatic judgements our brains make based on age, appearance, clothing, body language, gender, confidence, attractiveness or perceived status. The difficult part is that most people genuinely do not realise they are doing it.

In customer service, these assumptions influence far more than we think. They affect how quickly somebody is approached, how warmly they are spoken to, how much effort staff put into the interaction and even whether somebody is viewed as a “valuable customer” before they have said a single word.

Once you start noticing it, you see it everywhere.

One of the classic examples often discussed in sales training is the wealthy customer dressed casually. A man walks into a high-end car dealership wearing joggers, trainers and a hoodie. Staff assume he is “just looking”. Meanwhile, another customer walks in wearing a tailored suit and expensive watch and instantly receives full attention.

Yet often the genuinely wealthy people are not trying to impress anybody.

The first customer may have significantly more purchasing power than the second, but perception shapes behaviour. Luxury retail has known this for years. There are countless stories of high-net-worth individuals receiving poor service because they simply did not “look” wealthy enough.

The same thing happens in gyms.

We like to think the fitness industry is welcoming and inclusive, but subconscious bias still exists in many clubs.

Older adults are often treated differently. Somebody overweight walking into a gym for the first time may receive less engagement because staff assume they are unlikely to stay long term. A younger person may be ignored because staff assume they cannot afford membership. Somebody quiet or lacking confidence may receive less support simply because they are not naturally outgoing.

And without even meaning to, staff often gravitate towards people who feel familiar to them. The already fit. The confident. The experienced gym user. The person who looks like they “belong” in that environment.

But if our industry genuinely exists to improve lives, then surely the people who deserve the greatest service are often the ones least comfortable walking through the doors in the first place.

It is easy to impress somebody who already loves fitness.

The real skill is making somebody feel comfortable who never wanted to enter a gym at all.

The nervous beginner. The older adult trying strength training for the first time. The teenager lacking confidence. The overweight member terrified of being judged. These interactions matter more than most businesses realise because people are making emotional decisions within seconds of entering a facility.

Research consistently shows that first impressions within service environments strongly influence long-term loyalty and retention. Not equipment. Not décor. Not technology.

People.

The dangerous thing about bias is that it is rarely intentional. Most staff are not deliberately rude or dismissive. They simply do not realise their assumptions are influencing how they behave.

And that is why training matters so much.

Customer service training should not just focus on sales scripts, tours and objection handling. It should focus on emotional intelligence, awareness, empathy and inclusion. Staff need to understand that every single person walking through the door has a story, an insecurity, a motivation or a fear that may not be immediately visible.

The best operators train teams to treat everybody with the same level of interest, warmth and professionalism regardless of age, appearance, confidence or background. They ask questions before making assumptions. They focus on understanding the individual rather than categorising them.

Because inclusion is not just about race or gender, which is often where these conversations immediately go.

Real inclusion is much broader than that.

It is age. Appearance. Clothing. Tattoos. Hairstyles. Confidence levels. Body shape. Personality. Social background. Education. Culture. Experience.

In reality, it is about how we respond to anybody who appears “different” from what we subconsciously expect.

Bias is rarely obvious discrimination. More often, it appears in smaller ways. Less attention. Less patience. Less warmth. Less effort. And the person on the receiving end feels it immediately.

The teenager who feels ignored. The older adult who feels out of place. The heavily tattooed member judged before speaking. The overweight beginner who assumes everybody is watching them. The quiet person who struggles to approach staff.

These moments matter far more than most businesses realise.

The irony is that the fitness industry constantly talks about wanting to engage more people, yet many clubs unintentionally create environments where huge parts of the population feel uncomfortable, judged or unwelcome. Then we wonder why only a small percentage of the population actively uses gyms.

Perhaps the bigger question is this:

How many people have walked away from businesses feeling unseen, unwelcome or judged purely because of unconscious bias?

And how many businesses had absolutely no idea they were doing it?

The fitness industry talks constantly about inclusion, but inclusion is not posters, campaigns or slogans.

It is how people feel the moment they walk through the door.

That is the real test.

Knowing Your Numbers Could Be the Difference Between Being an Underperformer and Becoming an Industry Leader

 

Knowing Your Numbers Could Be the Difference Between Being an Underperformer and Becoming an Industry Leader

A few nights ago, I was rewatching one of my favourite sports films - Moneyball. If you haven’t seen it, it is genuinely worth your time. On the surface, it is a film about baseball, but underneath it is really a story about challenging assumptions, ignoring conventional thinking and understanding the true power of data.

The film follows Billy Beane, General Manager of the Oakland Athletics, a baseball team operating on one of the smallest budgets in Major League Baseball. Financially, they simply could not compete with the giants of the sport. They could not afford the biggest stars, the most famous names or the players with the strongest reputations.

Faced with that reality, they had two choices. Accept mediocrity or find a completely different way to compete.

What followed fundamentally changed not just baseball, but modern sport itself.

Instead of relying on instinct, tradition or hype, the club began drilling down into the numbers. They analysed which statistics genuinely contributed to winning games and ignored decades of accepted thinking within the sport. Players who looked average to traditional scouts suddenly became incredibly valuable because the data showed they contributed in ways the sport had historically overlooked.

The most fascinating thing about the story is that the numbers had always existed. The difference was that somebody finally chose to pay attention to them properly.

Today, versions of this same philosophy exist throughout elite sport. Football clubs now use increasingly sophisticated data analysis to identify players based not on reputation or emotion, but on measurable outputs and predictive performance models. Clubs such as Brentford and Brighton have become famous for outperforming financially stronger rivals through intelligent recruitment and analytics-driven decision making.

Again, not guesswork. Not ego. Not hype.

Numbers.

And this is precisely why understanding data is so important within business.

Because most businesses, including gyms and fitness clubs, still make an extraordinary number of decisions based on feeling rather than evidence. Owners often believe they know why members leave, which marketing works, which staff perform best or what clients truly value. But believing something and proving something are very different things.

The reality is that many businesses operate with surprisingly little operational clarity. They know their total membership numbers, but beyond that the detail becomes vague. Ask many operators about their average length of stay, attrition percentage, lead-to-sale conversion rate, appointment show percentage, cost per acquisition or secondary spend penetration and the answers often become uncertain.

That uncertainty creates a huge problem because businesses without clarity tend to react emotionally instead of strategically.

One slow month suddenly becomes a panic about marketing. One competitor opening nearby suddenly triggers fear-based decision making. One poor sales week results in random offers and discounting.

But often the issue is not the market itself. The issue is that the business does not truly understand what is happening operationally beneath the surface.

Take a simple sales funnel example.

Imagine a club where:

• Lead-to-appointment conversion is 50%
• Appointment show rate is 50%
• Appointment-to-sale conversion is 50%

If that club wants 100 sales, they will need roughly 800 leads to achieve it.

Now imagine improving the latter two conversion points to 75%.

Suddenly the same 100 sales require closer to 355 leads.

That single operational improvement completely changes:

• Marketing spend
• Sales pressure
• Team workload
• Profitability
• Staffing demands
• Advertising strategy

The fascinating part is that nothing revolutionary happened. The club did not suddenly receive magical new marketing. It simply improved the efficiency of the system.

This is where another sporting example becomes incredibly relevant - Sir Dave Brailsford and the philosophy of marginal gains.

When Brailsford took over British Cycling and later Team Sky, cycling was still heavily associated with performance-enhancing drugs. Competing cleanly against riders using banned substances seemed almost impossible. Team Sky estimated that doping could provide roughly a 10-15% performance advantage.

Rather than searching for one huge breakthrough to compensate, Brailsford focused on the idea of marginal gains. The philosophy was simple. Improve enough things by 1-2% and the combined effect becomes enormous.

This led to obsessive attention to detail:

• Improved bike aerodynamics
• Better clothing materials
• More efficient helmets
• Enhanced nutrition
• Better recovery protocols
• Improved hygiene
• Sleep optimisation

Famously, the team even transported their own mattresses, pillows and bedding to hotels during major races to ensure riders achieved the best possible sleep quality.

Individually, many of these decisions sounded insignificant. Collectively, they changed cycling forever.

And the exact same principle applies to business.

Too many gym owners are constantly searching for the huge breakthrough. The game-changing investment. The revolutionary marketing campaign. The one magical idea that suddenly transforms the business overnight.

But often the greatest improvements come from a series of smaller, intelligent operational changes.

Improving your sales conversion by 3%. Reducing attrition by 3%. Increasing class attendance slightly. Extending average length of stay by one month. Improving onboarding completion rates. Increasing referral generation. Reducing wasted ad spend. Improving PT penetration.

Individually, none of these seem dramatic.

Together, they can fundamentally transform profitability.

And importantly, many of these changes require more thought than money.

This is something I believe our industry still struggles with. Too many operators make decisions based primarily on personal preference, emotional attachment or intuition rather than what the data is actually telling them.

I have seen clubs with a very clear niche audience refuse to evolve despite the numbers strongly suggesting a different focus would create significantly stronger commercial performance. I have seen operators insist on continuing strategies that are visibly underperforming because emotionally they remain attached to the idea behind them.

The problem is that businesses do not survive on ideology. They survive on outcomes.

That does not mean data should completely replace instinct or creativity. Far from it. Some of the best operators combine strong intuition with strong analytical thinking. But intuition should be tested against evidence, not replace it.

The strongest businesses understand:

• What is happening
• Why it is happening
• Which numbers matter most
• Which behaviours influence those numbers

And once you understand that, improvement becomes far easier because you stop guessing.

One of the biggest misconceptions within business is that success comes from massive breakthroughs. In reality, success is more often the result of small improvements repeated consistently over time.

Better systems. Better consistency. Better onboarding. Better communication. Better tracking. Better accountability. Better operational discipline.

Small changes.

Compounding results.

Just like Moneyball.

Just like Team Sky.

And just like the strongest businesses in every industry.