If you’ve been walking into the gym alone and walking out the same way, or your people scattered and you haven’t found new ones yet, this one’s for you.
Within seven days of moving to Arizona, Dave and I had joined a gym. A big one. Life Time, with all the classes, all the amenities, and all the things I love. I walked in looking for three things: a great workout, variety, and a friend or two. I’d always been able to make friends at the gym, so I figured this part would be easy.
Not so fast, partner.
The Gym Where Nobody Looked Up
I started in the 5:30am classes, and I was rusty. And slow. And lifting light. So I had a whole personal review happening before I even got to the people part.
And the people? Not unfriendly. Just… absent.
Walking in and out, the vast majority of people I passed were doing whatever they could to avoid eye contact. Head down, eyes averted, and the phone becoming VERY interesting right at the moment I said “good morning.”
Stranger in a strange land kind of vibe. Dave and I had picked up stakes and moved to a new state where we knew exactly one handful of people. Every morning felt a lot like going to the gym alone.
I Thought Every Place Was Like NewStart
Before Arizona, we had NewStart, our shake shop in San Juan Capistrano. We had regulars, and some of them called their visits “therapy with Mary.” I called it counter talk, because ALL the things got discussed at that counter, and all of it was sacred. Laughter, tears, hugs, new friendships. Everyone welcomed. Everyone valued.
I knew it was special. I didn’t realize HOW special. I really thought the world operated that way, because that’s how MY world operated.
It turns out I’d been carefully protecting my spaces and my daily route for years. I only went to places that made me feel great. Here, we had to go searching for those places all over again.
The Good Morning Game
So I decided to get curious about all those averted eyes, and the Good Morning game was born.
The rules were simple. I greeted every single person I walked by with a “good morning” and a smile. Team members, gym members, my own classmates. Everyone.
Most people were shocked. Speechless. Genuinely surprised that I’d interrupted their very committed attempt to avoid the oncoming human that was ME.
Dave played too. We didn’t keep score. We just checked in with each other about how it was going, and those check-ins turned into longer talks about what it really means to pick up stakes and start over somewhere you don’t know anyone.
It was about eight weeks before anyone said hello back.
I got really good at being ignored.
I Used to Be the Head-Down Person
Here’s the thing, though. I’ve been on the other side of that hello.
Before Life Time, my gyms had been small boutique spaces. Orangetheory, YogaSix, a boxing gym. The very nature of those places is that they’re small. Small classes, everyone settles into “their times,” and you get to know people fast.
My time at Orangetheory was awesome. The 5am-ers are a breed unto their own, and we had a group that was there more days than not, working on ourselves and encouraging each other. Very special time.
YogaSix was different. I was there four or more days a week, but I was rebuilding after a bone marrow transplant, and I really didn’t want to mingle. My body was asking for support, not discipline, and I just wanted to do the repair and recovery. I was always friendly. I greeted people, and I was kind. I just wasn’t building yoga pals.
So when someone looks away from me now, I don’t assume much. Are they sad? Guarded? Tired? Unaware? Focused? I’ve been at least two of those myself.
Curiosity beats judgment. Every time.
Why Talking to Strangers Feels Harder Than It Is
Here’s what I was reminded of: we’re not great at predicting how a hello will go.
In a 2014 study, researchers Nicholas Epley and Juliana Schroeder asked Chicago commuters to either talk to a stranger on the train or keep to themselves. The commuters who connected reported a significantly more positive commute. They’d predicted the exact opposite, and they underestimated how interested other people would be in connecting.
Other research on talking to strangers points the same way. In a study by Gillian Sandstrom and Elizabeth Dunn, people who chatted with their barista, instead of just ordering efficiently, were in a better mood and felt a greater sense of belonging. In another study, people were happier on the days they had more of those small interactions with acquaintances and near-strangers.
That’s the Good Morning game in a lab coat. The woman with her eyes on her phone probably isn’t rejecting you. She’s making the same wrong prediction the rest of us make.
The Morning at the Check-In Desk
Five or six months in, I walked up to the check-in desk behind another woman who was asking the attendant about the class she was heading to. I said hello, and then I jumped in. “Oh, I’m heading there. What a great class.”
She hopped on the treadmill next to me, and we chatted a little. She kept coming back, and we kept talking.
Eventually, she stopped coming to classes. But something had already shifted. That one conversation opened up the room. More talking before class, more laughing during it, more fun all around.
One connection doesn’t have to last to matter.
A few months after that, I’d sometimes walk out to the parking lot with a gym pal or two. Twelve months of coming to class four or more days a week. Getting to know the instructors. Relentless in my pursuit of a hello back. Slowly but surely, friendships started to form.
It’s a bigger gym with more fluid schedules, so it took longer than it ever did in a small studio. But a core group formed. We’re coming up on two years there now, and a few of us know each other well enough to plan whether we’ll see each other tomorrow.
And then there was the GTX class. We were mid-run when I vaguely heard our instructor telling one of my gym pals that the two of us ought to compete in the upcoming HYROX. She turned to me and said, “Should we do it?” And I said, “Well, of course!”
Mid-workout. Totally spontaneous.
So now she’s my HYROX partner. Another gym pal signed up with her friend. Two of our coaches committed to come cheer us on. We’ve all exchanged phone numbers, and the promises of group training, outfit selection, and all the mayhem have begun.
What feels really fun is having gym friends again. To encourage, challenge, support, and have fun.
Connection Is a Health Habit, Not a Personality Trait
This is where the wellness part comes in, and it’s bigger than a nice morning.
The research on social connection and health is hard to argue with. A review of 148 studies, covering more than 300,000 people, found a 50% increased likelihood of survival for people with stronger social relationships. The researchers called it comparable with well-established risk factors for mortality. And the U.S. Surgeon General’s 2023 advisory on loneliness reported that about one in two adults in America were already experiencing loneliness before the pandemic.
One in two. If you’ve felt it, you’re in a lot of company.
If wellness feels harder than it used to, connection is worth a look. If you’re lonely after moving, or your usual community went away, hear this: making friends as an adult rarely happens by accident.
Life is a team sport. We curate our environment. And choosing real people is a daily decision, not a personality trait.
How to Make Friends at the Gym (or Anywhere), One Hello at a Time
Saying hello was a trip out of my comfort zone. But I was the one driving. I chose to say it, every morning, even when the evidence said it was inconvenient for most of the people I passed.
For me, curating my environment looks like this. I go to class at the same times, so the same faces see me. I say good morning to every person I pass. I jump into the conversation at the check-in desk. And when class is over, I walk out with whoever’s heading my way.
The Good Morning game continues. I still notice who says hello back, who holds the door, and who says thank you when I hold it for them. Eye contact optional, and certainly not usual or customary.
You say good morning for you first. And maybe, on the right morning, someone else feels seen.
A Good Place to Start
And if you’ve been reading along for a while, quietly, I see you. Whenever you’re ready, here’s a good place to start.
The NewStart Collective is a free space all our own, away from the madness of the world. It’s where I share the resources, ideas, and recipes that don’t fit in a blog post. It’s private, it lives on my own platform (not Facebook), and you join with a magic link right after the form. Think of it as my version of counter talk.
The 21 Day Reset is for when you’d like structure with people right beside you. It’s a nutrition, fitness, and community challenge, 21 days of real support and real flexibility. Community over comparison. A lot of people use it as a clean launchpad onto a new plan, and it’s a good way to see how structure can feel supportive, not restrictive.
Curious or committed, all are welcome. And tomorrow, wherever you work out, say good morning to someone. Then come tell me in the Collective who said it back.
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