Day 444 and Equinox

There is a brand of luxury gyms called Equinox that was started in Manhattan. I didn’t have enough money for a decent apartment when I first arrived in the city, so I showered at the gym. There was a time when I lived in a shithole on the Bowery that barely had working hot water but I could always rely on the sanctuary of the spa-like bathrooms at the Equinox. Apartments then were two grand a pop but an Equinox membership could be had for $150.

I loved that place so much my friend Rob swears I manifested a job at the corporate headquarters. I only lasted a year in the marketing department before I got headhunted out but I loved working there (until I hated it but that’s another story.)

One of the big events the gym would throw for marketing purposes was their biannual seasonal Equinox parties. They’d make a big to-do about both the fall and spring Equinox and encourage members to bring friends for free classes and workouts, and somewhat inexplicably an open bar. I never got how mixing drinks and spin class worked but whatever.

I always thought there was something beautiful about a fitness brand centering its marketing around the change of seasons. The Equinox logo plays on the balance of day and night aesthetically. But I’ve always preferred to think of the brand as a promise that all things change. It’s a powerful one for marketing aspirational luxury fitness because the origins of its earthly seasonal reality is so visceral.

The solstice may get all the glory what with midsummer madness and orgies and the Swedish horror movies and the whole winter solstice getting adopted by Christianity thing. But it’s the Equinox that has always spoken to me. Maybe it’s because I gravitate towards extremes that I crave the balance of the equinox over the solstice. I aspire to the rhythms promised by a day perfectly split by light and dark. The equinox says to me that it’s possible, even if it’s only twice a year, to get it all perfectly balanced. And then we get back to change. We move back towards extremes as we tilt towards the solstice.