my first attempt at advertising was an abysmal failure. shit is kind of embarrassing.
but I didn’t know wtf I was doing. I was 21 years old and freshly fired from my job as a personal trainer at Lifetime Fitness.
(I refused to clean equipment when I wasn’t with clients. Like, eat shit, fuckface.. go get one of the minimum wage kids to do it. 🏼)
…it was a blessing in disguise, though. That firing forced me to start my own shit, and I took the few clients I had and began training them in their homes.
Which may or may not have ruined a marriage or four. 🤦🏻♂️ (“HEY MAN, SHE CAME ON TO ME!”) [they did. ]
Bad decisions aside, the travelin’ trainer schedule was just too much to manage.
Driving all over town, dragging a fucking bench and a set of 50lb. PowerBlocks into and out of peoples homes all night sucked.
So I was like “fuck this.”
I made a crappy flyer and printed thousands of them with my Mom’s printer.(def using her ink cartridges)
And I went about the business of papering the entire town of Tinley Park, IL.
Doorknobs and windshields, baby.
All of them.
One person called me.
Out of fucking thousands.
That’s like a fucking .0001% conversion?
Not good. Not good at all.
Her name is Cathy.
I trained her in my Mom’s garage for $30 per hour. (my Dad used to come out there in the middle of a session, in his robe, to get cans of Pepsi ’n shit. 🤦🏻♂️)
But whatever. The shitty squat rack and dumbbells still worked.
She got the results she wanted.
Then she brought a friend.
And that friend referred two friends.
And they were all referring more and more… so eventually, I took the Original Three and said:
“you guys should go get certified so you can get insurance and start training these people yourselves. I’ll rent a warehouse, fill it with equipment, and show you how to do it.”
(I was never certified to be a personal trainer. Not for a fucking day. No one ever asked.)
Didn’t stop me from changing the lives of hundreds of people and eventually hiring and training other trainers and opening a gym called Fit Happens.
I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to do that.
My advertising fucking sucked, for sure, though.
I just didn’t know what else to do. 🤷🏻♂️
So I kept on with the flyers, every damn day, until Cathy finally called.
Then I focused intently on her and got her what she wanted because I intuitively understood that if her body changed, she would become my advertising.
As an aside, that’s seriously one of the best things about offering a service that changes someone’s body composition: they are fucking WALKING BILLBOARDS.
But a few months later – after I started paying rent and payroll, I realized I didn’t want to be relying on referrals anymore.
I don’t like not being able to control the money. Or the intake of new clients.
I wanted to be able to get them when I wanted them.
So one night, I googled “marketing.”
And I started studying. And buying courses. And books. And seminars and DVDs. And everything I could get my hands on.
I didn’t know shit, but I was sharing what I was learning on Twitter. (before it was popular and noisy)
Valerie Waters saw one of my tweets. (she was in fitness magazines training celebrities ’n shit every month, so I was like “damn!”)
A month later, I sold my gym and moved to LA to do all of Valerie’s marketing and product development… I was in way fucking over my head.
Figured it out though.
Did that for five years along with a whole bunch of consulting.
Valerie was the one who introduced me to yoga.
Which led to me becoming a yoga teacher.
And eventually, The Best Yoga Teacher in The World.
And Yoga Sex Rock God.
And soon, the President of the United States of Rymerica.
PS – this is Day 18 of #30daysofthesefuckingemails, Round 2. There’s a bunch more at ryanorrico.com.
PPS – if you’re not already in Rabbit Hole – you will want to be on the waiting list, for sure.
Something is happening.
Too many people are buying it now, so imma have to raise the price soon.
I could double that revenue by just making it $10.