A question that undoubtedly plagues your mind is what is the difference between gyms and health clubs. This is probably even more salient if pandemic precautions haven’t closed the gyms and health clubs wherever you are.
Your bewilderment over the fine points of the distinction has, no doubt, caused you much fret and many sleepless nights. Relax. I’m here to provide the answer. That’s what I’m all about. I live to serve.
There are three tests you can employ to distinguish between the two. Two of the tests are weak and one is conclusive.
The sign on the door is not one of the tests. Gyms don’t always give themselves names that include the word “gym.” What’s more, they may employ the word “club” to trick you. Health clubs rarely use the word “gym” in their names, but there may be exceptions. Health club names often include the word “club,” but that is not a universal rule. So, ignore the sign on the door. Instead, the three valid tests are based on the following criteria: décor, towel service, and fees.
Gyms and Health Clubs: Décor
Let’s start with décor. If the flooring, furniture, wall coverings and lighting would not be out of place in a tenement slum, you’re definitely in a gym. On the other hand, if the facility could easily be mistaken for a five star hotel, you’re unquestionably in a health club. However, this is a weak test because there is a broad spectrum between these décor extremes and a fine chromatic line divides gyms from health clubs on that spectrum.
There is a way to strengthen the conclusion drawn from this test. Look to see if the marketing literature for the establishment describes the “décor,” as opposed to the “decor.” The French accent aigu suggests it’s club and not a gym. Either that or it’s a pretentious gym. Caveat emptor.
Towel Service, or Lack Thereof
Towel service is also a weak test. If the facility provides stacks of crisp, clean towels for you to use at no additional charge it is probably a health club. If you have to bring your own towel it is probably a gym. Unfortunately, this test yields both false positives and false negatives, so it shouldn’t be trusted.
However, there is one more towel service issue that, as a public service, I feel the need to address. If the facility offers, at a “nominal” charge, mounds of filthy, unfolded towels reeking of body odor for your use while you are there, run. Run like the wind.
Fees at Gyms and Health Clubs
Fees are a close to infallible test. If you earn anything less than a middle-class income, but you can still afford the fees without giving up such luxuries as food, clothing and shelter, it’s a gym. Otherwise, it’s a health club.
I’m fortunate enough to be a health club member. My primary goals when joining the club a few decades ago were to lose some excess poundage and to keep it off. The club helped me tremendously in this regard in a way that a gym would not have done. I can’t afford to eat as much.
In additional to membership fees, there are extra-fee services that you can opt into. For example, some people choose to pay Satan’s helpers, also known as personal trainers, to torture them.
I’m not one of those members. There are a couple of reasons for this. For one, I’m not into torture.
But there’s also the cost. I live in a condominium and the condo corporation expects me to pay my monthly maintenance fees every month. The members of the board said something about that being why they chose to call them “monthly fees” rather than, say, “pay when you can fees.”
For some unknown reason, the board won’t accept my desire to hire a personal trainer as an excuse for not paying my condo fees. I served on the board for a few years, but that didn’t grant me any fee exemptions, so, to hell with the board; let them find someone else to serve on it.
Health Club Residence
At one point, I was convinced there was an obvious, infallible solution to this condo fees versus personal trainer dilemma. But it didn’t work out. Unfortunately, for reasons it refuses to explain, the health club won’t allow me to take up residence in the locker room and get rid of my condo. I’ve been a member for more than 30 years. I thought that by now I’d be entitled. The club disagrees.
It’s probably for the best. The club is still in business, but it has closed its doors for several months because of COVID-19. If I’d taken up residence there I’d be homeless now.
I tried to find other areas where I could cut down on my expenses, but I came up empty. Apart from doing without food, shelter and clothing, which didn’t appeal to me at all, I could think of only one other area where I might be able reduce my cash outflows. I suggested to the Canada Revenue Agency (the CRA, Canada’s equivalent to the United States’ IRS) that hiring a personal trainer should be a higher priority than paying my taxes. The CRA disagrees.
My argument was that if I became fitter I’d be more energized and I would, therefore, be better able to earn more income on which I could pay higher taxes. I contended that the CRA would thus come out ahead in the long run. The bureaucrats at the CRA didn’t see it that way. And, now that I’m retired, that argument falls even flatter.
