Getting fit by doing good | Alex Kenmure | TEDxExeter

Alex tells the story of how he and many others are giving up on traditional gyms, and are embracing social action in order to bring meaning, belonging and purpose to how they exercise. Alex Kenmure is head of business development at GoodGym, a community of runners that combines getting fit with doing good.

This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community. Learn more at https://www.ted.com/tedx

I've been thinking about gym memberships,

in particular, all the gym memberships
I've underused in my life.

I'm definitely one of those people
who likes the idea of being fit

far more than the actual
reality of getting fit.

In my youth, I really, really
wanted Brad Pitt's abs.

(Laughter)

These days, it's Jason Statham's
chiselled physique.

Every now and then, I'll get
all excited about getting buff

and sign up to my local gym.

"This is it," I tell myself, "from now on,
I'm going to be fit, healthy and happy."

I do not have Brad Pitt's abs,

and I only have Jason Statham's hairline.

(Laughter)

The sad truth is every time I've signed up
to a gym, I've barely attended.

When I have gone, I've found it
a truly miserable experience.

And I think I've boiled that down
to two main reasons:

connection and purpose.

I find the gym a particularly
isolating environment.

Here I am, surrounded by all these people
I have at least one thing in common with,

and I couldn't feel
more distant from them.

Almost every machine caters
for one person only, can't be shared;

we all have headphones in
to block each other out;

and we actively avoid eye contact,

never mind strike up conversation
for fear of looking weird or creepy.

That sounds more like my morning commute
than it has any right to.

Then there's the act of exercising
in an artificial environment.

Lifting things that don't need lifting,

and generating all this energy that has
no meaning or impact on anyone else.

(Laughter)

The treadmill is the perfect embodiment
of my life at its worst:

going nowhere fast
and paying for the privelage.

(Laughter)

It's been said that
if exercise were a pill,

it would be prescribed to everybody,

such are the wonderous
health and wellbeing benefits.

That may be the case
but I still find it hard to swallow,

and I don't think I'm alone.

In 2018, gym memberships in the UK

rose to nearly ten million
across 7,000 locations.

However we still have
a physical activity challenge

with around a third of UK adults

not getting the miminum
recommended levels of exercise.

We know we ought to be fitter,
many of us even want to be.

We just don't enjoy it.

So what if the answer

isn't more ways for us to exercise
and feel bad about ourselves,

but instead more ways for us to connect
and feel good about ourselves?

This is where GoodGym came into my life.

GoodGym is a community of runners
who get fit by doing good.

We run in groups to help
community projects such as city farms,

community centres or food banks.

We undertake missions
for older neighbours,

helping out with tasks around the home
such as changing a lightbulb.

And we visit isolated older people,

giving them an opportunity
to meet a younger local runner,

and in turn, become that runner's coach.

GoodGym makes the act of getting fit

a way to be both social
and make a difference.

It has grown from a small project
in Tower Hamlets back in 2009,

to a UK-wide social movement
with around 1000 people every week,

getting active and doing good.

Be that helping older neighbours
feel more connected,

setting up beds in a homeless shelter,

building toilet platforms
for water voles -

yep, that exists apparently,
which is great! -

(Laughter)

and shovelling a lot of compost.

What drives the social movement

are the stories behind
everybody who takes part.

We're not just missing
something in our exercise.

Quite often we're missing something
in the way we live our lives as well -

a sense of belonging, a sense of purpose.

My GoodGym journey started
six years ago in Camden.

Running each week to a different
community project, making new friends,

and acheiving ever further distances.

I used to think that five kilometres
was the absolute furthest

a human being could
or should travel by foot.

(Laughter)

Within six months, I'd completed
my first half marathon,

supported not just
by my fellow GoodGymers,

but by all the projects we'd supported
along the way as well.

Then my world shook.

All of a sudden,
my mum became very, very ill,

very, very quickly, and she passed away.

I felt a lot of horrible
things at that time,

but one of the things I struggled with
was feeling very, very useless.

My first GoodGym run after my mum's death
became very important to me.

It wasn't about exercising
to make myself feel better.

It wasn't even really about
seeing my friends.

I think there was a need to take all that
negative energy and chaos inside me

and know it could be used
for something positive.

That evening, we were running to bring
an old community space back into use -

ripping up carpets,
repairing beaten up walls.

My vivid memory of that evening is,
first-off, not being very good at it;

being covered head to toe
in plaster and dust;

laughing a huge amount;

and most importantly to me,
just feeling useful again.

You know, in a lot of ways,
my real GoodGym journey started that day.

As I increased my running,
now I was increasing my volunteering.

I started to do jobs
for old people in the community,

mainly clearing gardens
or moving furniture.

I came to appreciate
how a simple act of kindness

can completely transform a person's
sense of self-worth and identity.

And then I got matched with a coach.

An absolutely beautiful,
wonderful woman called Marian,

who taught me running up a massive hill
to deliver a TV Weekly Magazine

was far more motivating to me
than how chiseled my stomach looked.

In all honesty, I've never been fitter,
happier, or more confident

than when running to a community project,
helping someone with a task,

or visiting my coach.

And you know what? I've not completely
given up on those abs of steel.

(Laughter)

But I'm confident now
that if I'm going to find them,

it's not going to be
in a weird room full of machines,

but it might just be amongst
all the people I've connected with

and who make me feel
like I mean something.

Thank you.

(Cheers) (Applause)