The Unlikely Comeback of the Purple Palace
It was 2017, and no one I knew batted an eye when I mentioned I’d signed up for Planet Fitness. I was knee-deep in grad school, still operating on a shoestring budget that made every dollar count. Planet Fitness didn’t promise a wellness spa experience or any of the high-end amenities that seemed to be popping up in pricier gyms, but it was cheap, open twenty-four hours, and conveniently located. I could hit the weights in the middle of a lunch break or drag myself there at 2 a.m. after a long lab session. Plus, there was the allure of free pizza on the first Monday of every month – a small, carb-laden reward that felt surprisingly decadent at the time. It met the basic need: a place to move some weight without breaking the bank or my schedule.
Nine years later, the diploma is framed and the ramen noodle diet is a distant memory, yet I still find myself swiping into a Planet Fitness. I’ve even upgraded to the Black Card tier, which, at an extra ten dollars a month, feels like a genuine splurge from my grad school days. My friend Mario, never one to miss an opportunity for a jab, still jokingly calls me a ‘broke bitch’ whenever I head to the ‘purple palace.’ But the truth is, I never asked for a wellness lifestyle center complete with a hair salon, massage appointments, or a sauna. I don’t need overpriced juices or blood tests from the smoothie bar. And I certainly don’t need to shell out three hundred dollars a month for a gym membership. What I need is a reliable place to train, and it seems I’m not alone in that sentiment.
Evolving with the Times, or Ahead of Them?
For years, social media was a gallery of Planet Fitness memes, lampooning the ‘Judgment-Free Zone’ and its quirky rules. Yet, a noticeable shift has occurred. What was once a source of ironic humor is now sparking genuine appreciation. I’ve watched countless videos scroll by on my feed with captions like, “Maturing is realizing Planet Fitness is a good gym,” or “Say what you want, but Planet Fitness is stepping it up. This is a f***ing amazing gym to have.” It’s a quiet consensus building, suggesting a change not just in the gym itself, but in how we perceive fitness accessibility and value.
The numbers tell a compelling story, backing up what I’m seeing online and in person. Planet Fitness concluded 2023 with a significant surge in membership, climbing to 20.8 million from 19.7 million the previous year. That’s over a million new members. In the same twelve months, the franchise opened 181 new locations, expanding its footprint across the country. Two of those new spots are within easy driving distance of me, and my Black Card has definitely been put to good use, allowing me to drop in wherever I happen to be. It makes you wonder if they simply played the long game, waiting for the market to come back around to what they’ve always offered.
When I asked some guys at my local Westbury, New York Planet Fitness why they stick around, the answers consistently pointed to price and location. David, 42, highlighted its proximity to his home and its affordability compared to other options. Nineteen-year-old Luis echoed the sentiment, noting that for the cost, it provides everything he needs for a solid workout. Michael, 35, a man who works across different states, values the Black Card’s flexibility, stating, “with the Black Card I can get to a lot of Planet Fitnesses.” As the cost of almost everything else goes up, the mid-budget gym options seem to have evaporated, leaving a significant gap that Planet Fitness appears uniquely positioned to fill, even with its own modest price increases.
Shedding the ‘Lunk’ and Bulking Up
A decade ago, stepping into a Planet Fitness often meant navigating a vast sea of cardio machines. Treadmills and ellipticals dominated a good two-thirds of the floor space, creating a loud, sweaty obstacle course you had to weave through to reach the few free weights or Smith machines tucked away in the back. Today, my local gym has undergone a noticeable transformation. They’ve scaled back on the cardio equipment, trimming the number of treadmills and ellipticals to make room. This aligns with a broader shift in gym culture, where functional strength and free weights are gaining prominence. The space has been reconfigured, expanded, and equipped with a new array of strength machines: hack squats, incline presses, and glute drives are now standard, and you can even sign out accessories like barbell pads and resistance bands from the front desk.
One of the most significant changes, for me at least, has been the quiet disappearance of the infamous ‘Lunk Alarm.’ Back in the day, this blue siren, often perched above the free weights, was meant to deter ‘ego lifting’—grunting, dropping weights, or generally disrupting the ‘Judgment-Free Zone.’ It was manually triggered by an employee, but its presence felt like a constant admonition. Below it, a sign defined a ‘lunk’: ‘Ricky is slamming his weights, wearing a bodybuilding tank top, and drinking out of a gallon water jug…What a lunk!’ It felt pretty judgmental for a place that preached the opposite. I never actually heard the alarm go off, perhaps because the max dumbbell weight was only 75 pounds, limiting the actual ‘slamming’ one could do. Still, it hung there, a blue specter of imagined transgression.
When those alarms were finally removed a couple of years ago, the atmosphere subtly shifted. I started noticing a wider variety of serious lifters in the gym, men who might have previously felt unwelcome. The unspoken message against ‘going too hardcore’ seemed to fade. I even heard from Steve, 55, who told me he’d left LA Fitness a month and a half prior, exasperated by broken equipment and higher costs. “Planet Fitness gave me everything I needed,” he said, mentioning his use of the massage and tanning beds as added perks. This isn’t just about new machines; it’s about a cultural pivot, an acknowledgement that serious training doesn’t necessarily mean an intimidating environment. People online are even reporting seeing actual squat racks at some locations, a far cry from the fixed-track Smith machines that once defined their weight areas.
The New Era of Approachable Fitness
Initially, Planet Fitness appeared to cater almost exclusively to those not looking to overhaul their entire lifestyle. The free pizza on Mondays and bagels on Tuesdays, coupled with the bucket of Tootsie Rolls at the front desk, seemed designed to help members reward themselves, implying that a small treat wouldn’t negate weeks of effort. It was a well-intentioned gesture, and one I definitely partook in, but it also inadvertently made the gym feel less serious. The subtle message was that if you wanted to get truly dedicated to your fitness, you’d eventually outgrow the purple walls and need to move on to a different establishment. I watched that play out in real time, as friends who started with me eventually migrated to places like Life Time and LA Fitness.
The pandemic put an end to the free pizza and bagels, and they never returned, though the Tootsie Rolls remain. This shift, coupled with the physical upgrades, has repositioned the gym. Interestingly, some of those same friends who left years ago have recently found their way back. One change I personally appreciate is the removal of the express 30-minute circuit area. This corner, with its mustard-colored machines and cardio step stations, felt like a relic. The idea was a timed circuit of 60 seconds work, 30 seconds rest, but honestly, it took up too much valuable space and had a way of making you feel like you were loudly announcing, ‘I have no idea what I’m doing.’ I rarely saw anyone truly follow the circuit. Good riddance.
The core culture of non-judgment, however, endures. “It’s a friendly place to come work out and the machines aren’t always being used. They’re always open,” Luis, now 26, tells me. Kevin, 24, appreciates that he can work out without feeling scrutinized. I still rarely see the kind of performative peacocking or territorial behavior that can plague other gyms. People are generally conscientious, wiping down machines and not hogging equipment. The prevailing vibe is an unspoken agreement that everyone is simply doing their best, and that’s good enough. Look, it’s still not perfect. The air can be stale, and the free weights area still occasionally carries the distinct aroma of hot man sweat. There’s almost always at least one machine out of commission, and dumbbells still cap out at 75 pounds. I still don’t have a dedicated squat rack.
But for me, and clearly for millions of others, these aren’t dealbreakers. My younger brother, who abandoned Planet Fitness years ago for LA Fitness, recently made his return. When I asked if his switch meant he thought Planet Fitness was finally ‘cool’ now, he just shrugged. “It’s not that serious,” he said, heading for the leg press. “I just need a cheap place to work out.” Maybe that’s the real genius: not trying to be cool, but simply being accessible and functional, evolving just enough to meet people where they are, without demanding they become someone else.
Facts Worth Knowing
- •💡 Planet Fitness saw its membership increase by over 1 million members in 2023, reaching a total of 20.8 million – Planet Fitness Newsroom
- •💡 In 2023, Planet Fitness opened 181 new locations, expanding its presence and accessibility across various regions – Planet Fitness Investor Relations
- •💡 Despite initially gaining a reputation for discouraging serious lifters with its ‘Lunk Alarm,’ the removal of this feature has coincided with an increased presence of dedicated strength trainers and more diverse equipment offerings, challenging its beginner-only image.
