I’ll be honest — owning a gym isn’t a fast track to wealth. The number of people who get rich doing this is small, and I can say without hesitation that I’m not one of them.
So, no — the money isn’t the reason I keep Penance Gym open.
And truthfully, being the person who’s responsible for most people’s stress relief — or worse, the one trying to motivate them through something they’ve labeled a “necessary chore” — isn’t always easy.
But then there are the moments when someone walks in clearly worn down from a hard day — stressed, frustrated, low on energy — and an hour later, they walk out lighter. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. You can see it in their face, in their posture, in how they speak. The gym becomes the place where they reset, where they come back to themselves. For some, it’s not just helpful — it’s essential. A lifeline for their sanity.
And when someone finally feels strong again — when they tell me the knee pain they thought would last forever is gone, or when they realize they’re doing things they hadn’t done in years — those are the moments that make it all worth it.
The look on their face when they realize, “I’m not broken. I’m not done. I’m getting better.”
That’s priceless.
And now, both of my kids train at Penance, which adds a whole new layer of meaning. I get to guide them in ways I wish I’d been guided at their age — not just in lifting weights, but in building confidence, grit, and respect for effort. They get to grow up watching their mom and me lead by example. And hopefully, they’ll carry that love for physical activity with them into adulthood.
This gym was never just about dumbbells and kettlebells.
It’s about building people — including two of the most important ones in my life.
That’s why I keep the doors open.