The cult of work-from-gym
Functional fitness has a whole new meaning
Walk into any gym these days, and what do you see? Hot deskers on Zoom calls isn’t the expected scene, but one that’s becoming common. I’ve seen some firing off Slack messages in the changing rooms, and overheard others debriefing on financial regulations in the sauna. People are here to work out — and to work.
It’s not WFH, but WFGym.
If ever there was proof needed that fitness is a part of modern life, this is it. Canary Wharf is filled with glittering office skyscrapers, but the local workforce seem to be sat in Third Space — they’re using its cafe tables as an on-demand desk. It’s happening in budget gyms, too. Covid shifted working patterns, but our pursuit of personal health is shifting modern culture. We’ve reordered our priorities along with our behavioural patterns. Now, people want flexible working with IRL flexibility — accessed via an 11:15am vinyasa or a 3pm spin. It’s not just a work-life balance we demand. But a work-wellness equilibrium. Today, that’s the ultimate flex.
So what?
A consequence: the rise of the luxury wellness club. They’re basically the next generation members club — Soho House meets WeWork meets Equinox — where we can work, keep all possessions in a locker, grab coffee and lunch (and sometimes even dinner). The main sell: we can do a workout whatever time we want. All without having to leave the building. Convenience and comfort are king.
“The ability to segue from deadline to deadlift, with an after-work sauna and cold plunge, is an uplift.”
This is the forefront of a wave that’s will become mainstream. It’s evolving what hospitality is, and what we expect of it. These fitness spots basically offer the convenience of a hotel without the overnight stay.
“People’s interests in health & wellness [are] booming like never before,” says Alexandre de Vaucleroy, co-founder of Amino, a design-led gym and members club in Brussels. “So it makes sense to build a club where people could go all-in on what we call the active lifestyle.” You’ll pay for such convenience: most upscale options cost upwards of £250 a month.
Where?
Heimat in Los Angeles is a co-working space with a huge gym, a pool, spa, a restaurant and valet parking. The Lighthouse Club in central London is a small-ish space underground with around 200 members, who can enjoy its gym, workout classes, a sauna and ice bath on the daily — the rest of the space includes bookable meeting rooms, a podcast recording studio, a kitchen, a sofa lounge area, and healthy meal deliveries. There’s also an on-hand physio to manage any niggles and injuries. I’ve done a day’s trial, and the ability to segue from deadline to deadlift, with an after-work sauna and cold plunge, was an uplift. And, with its like-minded community of members, for a freelancer like me, it was a great place to network.
Animo is one of the chicest examples I’ve seen so far. It calls itself a Social Wellness and Performance Club — a slogan you can picture seeing on a preppy T-shirt. (Maybe worn by a Sporty & Rich type on a hot girl walk with her iced matcha.) It’s filled with freelancers and flexible workers under 45, according to de Vaucleroy.
There’s plenty more examples. Evenhouse is a cool, industrialist club aimed at golfers in California. JAB, in London, is a boxing club with a midcentury aesthetic that riffs a bit on Aimé Leon Dore. In Palma de Mallorca, Lalia appeals to Mallorca’s creative expat community.
Siro in Dubai has a lobby filled with hot desks, a protein shake counter and a vending machine offering healthy, macro-counting meals. The gym and wellness space is actually part of a hotel, but it offers membership for locals and, rather smartly, is also a Classpass provider; people stay afterwards to enjoy the amenities. (I’m curious to see whether any Classpass visits convert into Siro memberships, but it adds to the space’s dynamism.) Proper, the hotel chain in Los Angeles, is also going all-in on exercise with the launch the Proper Club. I interviewed Kelly Wearstler, the design partner at Proper, for a story recently; she told me health and wellness was just as important as food and beverage within a hotel today.
Gyms are adapting too. Christopher Norton, the chief executive of Equinox Hotels, told me that members of its Hudson Yards branch spend roughly three hours there per visit — its classes are 45-50 minutes. The standard restaurant reservation in major cities worldwide is two hours; people are spending longer at Equinox than they are going out for dinner. “People come, do a class, take a meeting, grab a smoothie,” he told me recently. To have so much contact time with members is potent for brand exposure. I’m looking forward to checking it out on my next trip to New York.
Three hours… in the gym?
Gyms are now a place to meet and spend time. The rise of the recovery clinics aligns with this. For the gyms of tomorrow, more, more, more is the manifesto. Compression boots, sound sessions and IV therapy are becoming standard practice. (Equinox; Soho House; Remedy Place in New York and Boston, and Rebase Recovery in London.) Access to a squat rack is not enough.
Why?
Gyms had a rough time during the pandemic, when forced closures and the rise of the at-home workout left many cancelling their memberships; over a million people in the UK stopped paying for the gym between 2020-2021. The sector in Britain lost £3.5 billion, with over 500 facilities closing forever. (Co-working spaces like WeWork have also filed for bankruptcy.) App workouts, once a bit novice, have boomed since thanks to their do-it-anywhere convenience. Advancements in tech have meant apps like Ladder, Pliability, Marchon and Sweat can even mimic a personal training session that saves us from the hell that is doom scrolling Youtube for workouts. In 2024, fitness apps were worth $1.8 billion in the US alone, up from $1.2 billion in 2020, according to Statista. A few years ago, social running clubs were a novel, trendy way to get fit for free — now every cafe on every corner has one. The way we are exercising has shifted enormously. To get people through the doors, and feeling like the expense is worth it, gyms are upping their game to boost their gains.
The sell
A chunky monthly membership fee is easier to justify if we can factor work into our working out. It’s also a great way to keep us exercise-accountable. Gym memberships are expensive, and so are co-working spaces for those without an actual office. (A Soho Works membership is upwards of £300 plus VAT, excluding the £250-ish Soho House membership; in comparison, Equinox Hudson Yards costs $410 a month, which, at about £300 total, is better value.) Individual fitness classes cost £20/$30+ a time; at Equinox, they’re included. In the freelance economy, the work-from-gym method makes savvy financial sense; it costs about the same as three weekly pilates classes.
There’s a draw for those in offices, too. Major companies like JP Morgan Chase, Boeing and UPS have insisted staff get back to the office thanks to the huge real-estate overheads; JP Morgan’s London office, in Canary Wharf, is eight minutes walk away from Third Space. Commuting to that part of town no doubt feels more appealing to employees if the opportunity to sauna is thrown in the mix.
Who should care?
This trend is one to watch. Brands and businesses in the wellness sector can be smart with positioning here; the co-work gym encourages people to invest in their professional and personal future self, which is a compelling tool to foster real connection. There’s also a huge social play. Freelancers don’t have colleagues or an office; somewhere like Equinox, with its regular members and on-demand community, can bring human connection to someone’s day. It’s emotional wellness, as well as active wellness.
Time is money. Health + work = wealth. It’s an equation likely coming to a preppy sweatshirt near you soon.
The relay
Would you work from the gym? What do you even want from a membership these days? How much would you pay?
Email me your thoughts! And let me know about other cool spots that I should check out. saltysubstack@gmail.com