Planet Fitness, a national chain of about 600 fitness clubs, is introducing a campaign that mocks fitness fanatics, especially those whose devotion infringes on others.
A new commercial opens with a slight woman who is curling small dumbbells in a drab gym as a brawny man berates her like a drill sergeant.
“If you can’t handle a big girl’s workout, the little girl’s gym is right across the street!” shouts the man, a whistle hanging around his neck and his hands balled into fists, as the woman appears to be on the brink of tears. “If you were committed to this workout the way you committed to that morning doughnut, you’d be puking out your ears right now!”
The spot cuts to a flashing light and siren and the words “Lunk Alarm,” and then to the same woman in street clothes being given a tour of a Planet Fitness facility.
“And that’s why I don’t like gyms,” she says.
“Well,” begins the employee showing her around, “we’re not a gym — we’re Planet Fitness.”
The ad closes with a voice-over, which says: “No gymtimidation. No lunks. Just $10 a month.”
The ad, by Red Tettemer & Partners in Philadelphia, will be introduced widely on Jan. 10. Three other spots in the campaign follow the same structure, opening with overbearing gym rats and closing with assurances that Planet Fitness is more laid back.
Planet Fitness will spend an estimated $10 million to $12 million on the campaign. It spent $15.8 million on advertising in the first nine months of 2012, more than the $14.9 million it spent in all of 2011, according to Kantar Media, a unit of WPP.
Rather than being just a narrative device in the spots, lunk alarms have actually been fixtures at Planet Fitness gyms. Members who exhibit lunk behavior, which the company defines on posters in its facilities as grunting, dropping weights loudly and being judgmental, are subject to a public shaming when a manager at the facility sounds the alarm.
In some cases, Planet Fitness even revokes memberships, as it did at a location in Wappingers Falls, N.Y., in 2006. Albert Argibay, a bodybuilder whose exertions were considered grunting by Planet Fitness, but which Mr. Argibay countered in news accounts as merely heavy breathing, kept lifting after he was told to leave, and was eventually escorted from the premises by police officers.
While the slogan “No Gymtimidation” is being introduced with the new campaign, the company has for years promised what it calls a “judgment-free zone.” That, in the words of the Planet Fitness Web site, “means members can relax, get in shape, and have fun without being subjected to the hard-core, look-at-me attitude that exists in too many gyms.”
Jamie Medeiros, director of marketing at Planet Fitness, said that only about 15 percent of Americans belonged to gyms, and that the company was focused not on trying to lure consumers from other facilities but on enticing those who had avoided gyms altogether.
“We go after the 85 percent who don’t belong to a gym now or who have never belonged to a gym,” Ms. Medeiros said.
While many chains sell protein powders and a wide range of supplements, Planet Fitness takes the counterintuitive approach of serving the type of food that dieters typically avoid.
Every month members are treated to pizza on the first Monday night and bagels on the second Tuesday morning, while Tootsie Rolls are handed out daily.
“The common person doesn’t have time to work out every day, and they may not aspire to the type of person who has six-pack abs and eats egg whites,” Ms. Medeiros said. “But we want to be the type of facility that people want to go to as opposed to, ‘Oh my god, I have to go to the gym today!’ ”
The company has thrived even during the economic downturn, growing to four million members today from about 3.2 million a year ago, according to Ms. Medeiros. About 60 percent of its members are women, much higher than what Ms. Medeiros said is the national average of 20 percent.
Health clubs, like cellphone carriers, tend to sell one- or two-year contracts, but Planet Fitness instead has a month-to-month plan, at $10 monthly, which the company believes knocks down a barrier to joining.
Among consumers who exercise, 71 percent agreed with the statement that fitness clubs were too expensive, according to a survey by Mintel, a market research firm. As for the atmosphere, only 27 percent said that they enjoyed the social aspects of gyms.
When brands hire celebrity endorsers and attractive models, marketers typically refer to the advertisements as aspirational, meaning that consumers do not see themselves reflected in the ad as much as an ideal to which they aspire. But Steve Red, the chief creative officer of Red Tettemer & Partners, said the aspirational approach can backfire when it comes to promoting health clubs.
“I’m never going to get to be that washboard-stomach, super-cut guy that I see in the Equinox ads,” said Mr. Red, referring to the chain of upscale gyms. “There are a ton of gym brands that are all about being cut and sinewy and having a six-pack, but I would argue that approach is not aspirational — it’s inaccessible.”
