Defining Success
“Did you ever think it would be this successful?”
Since the announcement of our expansion, I have been asked this question six times. Six times in two weeks and every time it gets more and more awkward. I shrink inside. The question has come from friends, acquaintances, and members. Every time, I give some sort of terrible answer that, I assume, sounds like a desperate plea to change the subject and leave the room as quickly as possible.
The trouble is that I do not know what you are asking me. How do you define success? Is there an actual metric I am supposed to follow? If the answer is financial, I (Ashton a lot of the time) do my own laundry, rent an apartment, hand wash dishes, and just paid $400 dollars in parking tickets that put an absurd damper on some cool ideas of fun that I wanted to do. I always assumed financial success involved houses on cliffs overlooking the ocean and people doing your laundry and dishes for you.
I think other people assume having two gyms within a mile of each other means “success.” I can probably think of better business strategies, but, yes, this has worked out well so far. I believe each gym is a big part of the community they occupy. The residents of North PB have embraced us and I am humbled by how welcoming the people have been for the last 2 years. The animals that inhabit the corner of Garnet and Fanuel create an energy that engulfs the 1200 block of Garnet. Nothing makes me happier than exiting Sprouts and hearing the sweet echoes of bumper plates drowning out Eminem’s profanity. The idea of expansion, in itself, is incredibly scary, and, again, makes me question the definition of success. If success is creating two sustainable gyms, then trying to expand, in the same market you have already been in for four years, defining success means “holy crap, this is scary and exciting, and man, can we really do this again?”
Does membership define success? I remember when we broke 100 members and bought a keg at Tap Room. We literally took over half the bar during a San Diego State sweet 16 game. We have grown significantly since that party, but I am not sure if it really means “success.” In fact, part of me believes that the more we grow, the harder it is to be successful. The harder it is to meet every athlete’s specific goals. Athletes used to ask about nutrition and we could sit down and consult with each individual. Now we run clinics to reach a broader audience. We have gymnastics class, competition class, CrossFit Light, Fitness classes, Sport classes, clinics, and subject matter experts, all to meet each individual’s needs, but more can still be done. More will be done. So, is membership a metric of success? Sure. Does it make us successful? We are only successful to the extent that we are able to educate and inspire each and every athlete to reach their goals in a safe and effective method. I believe we have been successful, but there is so far to go. There are so many more people to help and so many more ways to connect with athletes.
I think the question people really mean to ask is, “has it been fulfilling?” Fulfillment is my personal definition of success. I am proud of the product. I am beyond proud of the coaching staff we have assembled. The third and fourth people that walked into the gym are still here and have turned into some of the best CrossFit coaches in the country. All of this pales in comparison to the fulfillment I feel from you, the athlete. You have all accepted me into your lives. You allowed this gym to play every role imaginable in some way or another. Some days we are the psychologist that help you get through a bad day. Most days we are the meeting spot for you to hang out with your friends instead of going to happy hour. There are times when the coaches and other athletes become a support system. I have seen lifelong friendships, and relationships, start inside these walls. These are the moments when your life’s work changes the lives of others that are fulfilling. I am not here to chase success. Fulfillment is the only measure of success that matters; living a life that gives you back way more than the sweat equity could ever be worth. I will never work hard enough, make enough money, or have enough members to ever define success by shallow, cheap, and easy to read metrics. Fulfillment has no metrics, genuine passion, care, and love for the people around you is all that matters.
