His goal: To single-handedly save the world's women from obesity. With Curves, he seems to be pulling it off. And he's built a billion-dollar business along the way.
ALMOST HEAVEN
Gary Heavin opened his first Curves gym in 1992; his wife, Diana, managed it. He now has 2,901 curves.
It's just after 9 in the morning, and 375 people, nearly all of them women, sit at rows of tables in quiet anticipation. In front of each is a bottle of water, a thick loose-leaf binder, and a paper tent printed with their names and hometowns: Boynton Beach, Florida; Kodiak, Alaska; Libby, Montana; Traralgon, Australia; Martha's Vineyard; San Diego.
The room's walls are draped with large boxing match posters--promoting contests like Iron Will vs. Evil Sofa, and Will Power vs. Curly Fries. A large neon sign of the logo for the women's fitness club Curves--the company name, in purple cursive--is mounted on the wall, casting a violet glow on the white metal weight machines that occupy a pride of place not only in each corner of this room, but also in thousands of communities across the United States and, increasingly, the world.
The event is called Club Camp, and each new franchisee of the fast-growing chain of gyms is required to attend. There are enough new franchisees that the company holds a Club Camp almost every month, including sessions in places like Sydney and Tokyo to accommodate the gym's growing number of global franchisees. Janell Gilman, Curves' director of training, is first to take the stage. She delivers a few housekeeping remarks, then introduces the main event. "Get ready to welcome the man who has made this all possible, our CEO and founder, Gary Heavin!" A sea of pastel T-shirts and ponytails rise as one, applauding, cheering, flashing disposable and digital cameras. Some of the franchisees wipe tears from their eyes, others execute a little dance.
Heavin takes the stage, smiling and waving. A 51-year-old Texan with sandy, thinning hair and a blondish close-clipped mustache, he's wearing a lavender shirt with a Curves logo embroidered on it and cream-colored slacks. He's not pudgy, but he's no hard-bodied Jack La Lanne either. He casually leans on a tall chair and begins. "We're going to make you masters of your own fate," Heavin (pronounced haven) tells the crowd. "I'm going to tell you exactly what this job requires to be successful. If you follow my advice exactly, you will prosper. You can't screw this up! But if you want to do it your own way, you're going to have problems. This is an opportunity. People thank me for that opportunity, frequently. But I always say, 'Look, all I did was figure out every wrong way to do this.' I've lost everything I owned, and that's good news for you, because you don't have to suffer and learn things the hard way. I've done it for you."
Since its founding 14 years ago, Curves has grown from one franchise to nearly 10,000. It now accounts for four out of every 10 franchised fitness facilities in the United States, making it the nation's largest fitness chain. Curves can be found in 44 countries, and it's the largest fitness chain in Canada, Ireland, Mexico, and New Zealand. There are four million Curves members worldwide. Curves International, the franchiser, is privately held and family-owned, and employs just over 100 people at its headquarters in Woodway, Texas, a suburb of Waco. The company says it now has systemwide revenue in excess of $1 billion.
But Curves, Heavin insists, is about more than just money. "I personally can't influence the lives of women. I can't get them to go to the gym, watch their weight, and take care of themselves," he tells the crowd at Club Camp. "But me and 10,000 of you, and the 30,000 employees you'll hire? Together we can. In fact, I'll share something with you that came out this past week." Heavin cites a survey published in the Journal of the American Medical Association. Between 2000 and 2004, the survey found, the percentage of men that are obese increased, as did the percentage of children. But the percentage of women who are obese--33 percent--remained flat. "I believe that Curves has single-handedly stopped the obesity rate in this country for women," he says. The room explodes with wild applause.
It's hard to say whether Heavin is correct, but his claim is at least plausible. Experts say that Curves, which has persuaded millions of otherwise sedentary women to get to the gym, deserves some credit for making a dent in the obesity crisis. "Curves has arguably done more to get inactive women exercising than any other fitness trend or organization in the history of exercise," concluded a 2005 report from the American Council on Exercise. Given that, and given the company's rapid growth, it's also hard not to take Heavin seriously when he says that his goal for Curves is to become "the McDonald's (NYSE:MCD) of fitness." It's not as audacious as it sounds. Already, there is one Curves for every two McDonald's in the United States.
Curves gyms can be found in mini-malls and on country roads, in urban centers and suburban shopping plazas. Walk into a typical club, pass an appointment desk, and you'll see a dozen workout machines arranged in a circle. The machines use hydraulic resistance instead of stacked weights, so the faster you work, the heavier the resistance. The idea is to work fast enough to elevate your heart rate into the training zone. Every 30 seconds, the fast-paced music that pumps through the club's sound system is interrupted by a voice that instructs "change stations now." You move from a resistance machine to a "recovery station," where you are encouraged to "move lively" to keep your heart rate elevated. Walk, jog in place, or do a little dance, as most do. In the center of the circuit, a Curves employee encourages and motivates. Gym members--ranging in age from teenagers to septuagenarians--chat about their lives, their kids, their upcoming vacations. There are no mirrors and no men. Go around the circuit twice, and you're done. It takes just 30 minutes. Membership starts at $29 a month.
It's hard not to take Heavin seriously when he says that his goal for Curves is to become "the McDonald's of fitness." Already, there is one Curves for every two McDonald's in the United States.
Circuit training, of course, has been around for decades. But Curves is very much unlike most fully loaded gyms with their banks of cardio machines, schedules of aerobics classes, personal trainers, spa services, juice bars, and other assorted bells and whistles. Indeed, the idea for Curves emerged from Heavin's experience running a traditional gym--and then running it into the ground.
