When we talk about loyalty in a gym, we usually think of the trainer, the classes, the community, customer service, and lately, the app as well. And of course, all that matters—a lot.
But after many years of entering fitness centers, working with operators, and analyzing projects, I am increasingly clear that part of that loyalty begins much earlier. It begins when we are still deciding how to divide the square footage, which zones the center truly needs, and how we want it to feel once it's up and running. Because seeing a center on a floor plan or a render is one thing, but seeing it on a Tuesday at seven in the evening is something else entirely.
When someone talks to me about how to get members to stay longer, my first reaction isn't to think about a retention campaign. First, I want to understand how the center functions.
The sector's average annual retention is around 66%, which means that approximately one out of every three members currently inside will not be there a year later. But that figure alone explains very little. The interesting part is understanding what happens during those months: why a person who was delighted starts coming less, why they stop booking certain classes or avoid an area at specific times, and how, little by little, they lose their bond with the center until one day they stop coming altogether.
Loyalty still has a lot to do with people: with a trainer who knows the member, with a team that observes, and with someone who notices that you haven't shown up in two weeks. But all those people work within a space, and that space can either help them a great deal or make their work much harder.
Don't design the center empty. Design the center full.
There is something that happens very often when a center is being planned, which is that we work on empty spaces. The floor plan is organized, the render is beautiful, and everything fits—until seven in the evening arrives. That's when you discover that there aren't enough strength stations, that certain traffic flows intersect, that one activity interferes with another, or that there are areas that are barely used while others are overcrowded. Often, it's not a problem of square footage, but of how that footage was conceived.
That is why, when I review a project, I try to imagine it in operation. Not mid-morning, but full, with people entering and leaving a class, someone looking for a free bench, another person finishing their workout, and a trainer trying to move around the floor to assist several people at once. That is where the interesting questions start to arise.
And those questions should be asked as early as possible. In our projects, the first person who enters is the architect, often before there is even a project, when a space is still being evaluated and no one has signed anything yet. The first step is to study the feasibility of that location: whether the structure can handle what is planned, how accessibility, evacuation, and climate control are resolved, what permits are needed, and what the neighbors' reactions might be. With that on the table, it is decided if that space serves the center that someone has in mind. Then comes the interior design, the technical project, and the construction oversight, until the center is ready to open. When all of this is considered from the beginning, the full center can be mapped out before it even exists. When it is discovered after the contract is already signed, every change costs much more.
The strength room is one of them. Strength training has gained significant weight in fitness, and when rush hour hits, it is immediately obvious if the room is prepared for the center's real demand. It is not enough to have good machines: the number of stations, the circulation paths, how different solutions are combined, and the space left around them all matter.
The same happens with group activity rooms. The flooring, the acoustics, or what is happening on the floor below can end up dictating schedules and programming, and the schedule has a massive impact on the member's experience.
I also look closely at what happens when the workout ends: where people stretch, where they can recover, if there is anywhere to stay for five or ten minutes longer, or if the entire center is designed solely to enter, train, and leave. These are details that seem secondary on paper, but they end up being part of how the center is lived in every single day.
And then there is the arrival, those first few meters where the lighting, the order, what you see, and what you walk on start telling you where to go. Even before you start training, you are already receiving information about the type of place you are in.
In many projects, when the budget or floor space needs to be adjusted, the first things to be cut are the very spaces that are hard to justify on a spreadsheet: the stretching zone, a recovery space, a small place to sit, or a slightly wider walkway. I understand perfectly why this happens, but one must also look at what those meters contribute to the center's operation. Sometimes a space that apparently doesn't generate direct revenue greatly improves the experience, makes the team's work easier, or causes people to stay a little longer. And that also has value.
The same thing happens with equipment. To me, you first have to understand what kind of center you want to build, who is going to use it, and how you want it to work, and only then do we start talking about products. When done in reverse, it is very easy to end up making decisions based on what a catalog offers rather than what the project needs.
Technology, used well, can be a great help. Today there are strength solutions capable of tracking workouts and the progress of each member, and that provides the team with very valuable information to better support them. But it remains a tool, and what matters is what we do with it.
If I were in front of someone about to open or renovate a center, I probably wouldn't start by asking them what brands they want. I would ask them how they want their center to work when it is full: what will be happening at seven in the evening, where the people will be, which areas will be used most, where the team will need to be, what someone should feel when they walk in, and what would need to happen so that, six months later, they still want to be there. From that point on, many decisions start to make a lot more sense.
At DYNARK, we approach projects with that perspective. We start with the space, with the architect from Space & Design before even signing for the premises, we understand the usage, the experience, and the business model, and then we build the solutions each center needs around those foundations.
If you are opening, renovating, or transforming a center, tell us about your project.
Tere Luque · Founding Partner and Director of Marketing and Brand Positioning at DYNARK. Strategy consultant for fitness, wellness, and hospitality projects.
