Studio Audit Series

I almost didn’t go.

I’m traveling this week, and like I usually do when I’m in a new city, I scoped out a few local fitness studios to visit. These little drop-ins are kind of my thing. Yes, I want to move my body—but more than that, I want to keep learning.

Because I don’t just work in this industry—I’m wildly obsessed with it.

When I travel, visiting studios is how I stay a student of my craft.
I love seeing how other spaces bring their brand to life. I love observing team dynamics, programming, client flow, and all the little things that make a studio feel dialed in (or not). I’m deeply curious about consumer behavior—and if I’m going to keep helping studios create killer client experiences, I have to keep learning what works and what doesn’t.

So I found a studio that looked incredible.
Gorgeous website. Clean branding. Their Instagram? A total vibe. It felt like my kind of place.

I picked a class, created an account, added my info…
And then—nothing.

No confirmation. No success message. No class booked.

Now, I’m like most people: if your site takes more than two clicks to sign me up and take my money, there’s a solid chance I move on. But because I get this industry—and I really wanted to try this space—I gave it a few more tries.

Still nothing.

Eventually, I messaged the studio. They were kind, got me booked manually, and mentioned (very casually) that this was a common issue on their site.

And that’s when my internal alarm bells started ringing.

Because if it’s a known issue… why hasn’t it been fixed?

Your Tech Shouldn’t Be Working Against You

Here’s the thing: your software powers your studio. It’s the first impression. It’s the beginning of the client journey. And if it’s broken, clunky, or confusing—you’re losing revenue and trust before a client ever walks through your doors.

Most people aren’t going to message you for help. They’re just going to disappear.

And in a market as competitive as boutique fitness, with decision fatigue at an all-time high, every barrier matters. Ease matters. First impressions matter.

But I was determined. I showed up.

And Then… the Energy Didn’t Match the Aesthetic

When I walked in, no one greeted me.

There was someone at the front desk, but no eye contact. No “Welcome in.”
I had to go up and introduce myself. I told them it was my first time, and only then did they give me a quick tour and walk me over to check myself in.

Unpopular opinion? I hate self check-in.

Especially on your first visit, being asked to tap a screen instead of being greeted with a smile and a name feels cold. Your front desk is your welcome committee. It’s not about being fancy—it’s about making people feel seen.

Connection starts at the door. And this one fell flat.

The Instructor Was Present… But Not for Me

When I got to the room, the instructor was on the floor, chatting with a member or friend. Not a quick hello. Fully in it. She didn’t even notice I had walked in.

After about ten minutes, I had to go up to her and ask what props I needed.

Now—imagine if this had been my very first time doing heated sculpt. I would have been completely lost, and honestly, a little intimidated. There was no guidance. No “Welcome.” No “Let me help you feel at ease.”

It felt like I had to insert myself into the experience, rather than being invited into it.

The Workout Was Good—But That’s Not the Whole Story

The class started and, to be fair, the programming redeemed the experience. I enjoyed the movement. The format was solid. The workout itself was well thought-out and effective.

But at the end of class?

Crickets.

No cue to clean. No instruction on what to do next. Weights were scattered, props were tossed around—no system, no order, no culture of care.

I literally had the urge to stay after and organize the space myself.

As a studio owner, I would’ve walked in and felt disappointed—not because of one person, but because of what the lack of structure communicates. Not messy in the cute, lived-in way. Messy in the “we don’t really have standards” way.

Here’s the Truth: I Enjoyed the Workout. But I Won’t Be Back.

And not because it was terrible—because it wasn’t.
But because the overall experience wasn’t intentional.
And intention is the difference between a one-time drop-in and a long-term relationship.

Your studio experience is more than a workout.
It’s the welcome.
It’s the energy.
It’s the structure.
It’s the care your team brings to every moment of the client journey.

So What’s the Lesson Here?

Now let me be clear:
I usually have incredible experiences when I visit studios.
Truly—this industry is filled with passionate, thoughtful, hard-working people doing their best to create something meaningful.

But every now and again, I stumble into moments like this.

Moments where the brand is polished, but the process is clunky.
Where the vibe is strong online, but the in-person energy feels flat.
Where you want to love it… but something’s just off.

And I’m not sharing this to bash anyone.
That’s not what this is about.

I’m sharing it because I see it far too often.

Studios that look incredible from the outside—but once you step inside?
You feel the friction.
You sense the confusion.
You notice the missed opportunities to connect, to welcome, to lead.

And if I’m noticing it?
You better believe your clients are too.

The good news? You don’t need a secret shopper or a consultant to uncover what’s off.

You just need to be willing to pause.
To zoom out.
To see your studio through your clients’ eyes.

Because that’s where the magic happens. Not in the aesthetics—but in the experience.
Not in how it looks—but in how it feels.

Here’s how to run your own studio audit:

Book a class on your own site.
Is it smooth, fast, and intuitive? If not—how many people are giving up before even trying?
Walk into your space unannounced.
What does it feel like? Is there warmth, connection, energy?
Observe a class discreetly.
Is the instructor fully present? Are clients getting guidance and support? Is the studio clean and cared for?
Watch the transitions.
What happens before and after class? Is there order, or chaos? Direction, or confusion?
Ask yourself honestly:
If this was your first experience—would you come back?

Final Thought

You don’t need to be perfect.
But you do need to be intentional.

Clients are looking for more than a sweat. They’re looking for connection. Belonging. A sense of care. When you drop the ball on the booking, the welcome, the coaching, the clean-up—people feel that.

And they don’t always say it out loud. They just don’t come back.

So here’s your gentle nudge:
Audit your studio. Check your systems. Have the hard conversations with your team. And keep raising the bar.

Because when you do?
People notice.
And they stay.

I’m rooting for you,
With love and encouragement,
Beth

I’d love to hear your thoughts—when was the last time you looked at your studio through fresh eyes?