Twenty-two years ago, I drove to a gym I'd built with my own hands, wondering if I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. Here's what happened next.
The Beginning
Shape Fitness began on a quiet Tuesday morning — September 3rd, 2002 — but the real story started long before the doors opened.
I had just come out of the Air Force. After 9/11, my career field was placed on Stop-Loss, so I spent months in limbo — serving by day, building a gym at night whenever my supervisors allowed it. They'd tell me, "If anyone can do it, you can." I held onto that.
When Stop-Loss finally lifted, I stepped into civilian life with a gym that was nearly ready and $800 to my name.
Opening day arrived. At 5 a.m., I climbed into my truck with one thought pounding in my chest: What if this doesn't work?
I drove toward the gym carrying the full weight of it — no paycheck coming, no health benefits, no members, no guarantee this dream wasn't a mistake.
Then I pulled into the parking lot.
My headlights swept across the storefront and lit up a silhouette at the door. Instantly, a calm washed over me.
When I got closer, I saw him clearly: an old man, standing there waiting for me to unlock the door.
His name was Dr. John Azlin. He was early. He was ready. He was eager to get started.
I unlocked the door, skipped the formal joining process, and walked him straight into his first workout. When he finished, he said: "See you tomorrow."
In that moment, the fear I'd carried into the drive simply dissolved. I wasn't alone. The dream wasn't empty. This was real.
Dr. Azlin came back the next day. And on Day Three, he taught me a lesson I didn't see coming.
As I guided him through another workout, I did what I thought a good young trainer should do — push, encourage, motivate. After each exercise, I kept saying: "Good, John, good… very good, John."
Finally, in the middle of jogging in place, he stopped. Looked me straight in the eyes. And asked:
"Is all you ever say… good?"
His tone wasn't harsh — just honest. It caught me off guard.
I replied, "John… I don't have to say anything at all."
He nodded. "I'd prefer that."
Right there, on the third day of Shape Fitness, I learned something that changed how I would run every gym from that moment forward:
Everyone's journey is their own. Not everyone wants cheering. Some just want space, peace, and the dignity to better themselves quietly.
So I gave Dr. Azlin what he needed — a routine and room to breathe. He stayed a loyal member until he passed away in 2008.
The lesson he taught me never left.
The Heart of Shape Fitness
Shape Fitness wasn't built by investors or corporations. It was built on a drive filled with fear, a silhouette waiting in the dark, a lesson from an old man, and the belief that every member matters differently.
From that first morning, I made myself a promise: one member at a time. No assumptions. No shortcuts. No quitting.
By month three, the gym survived. By month six, it expanded. Through the years that followed, Shape Fitness became a community — six locations across Oklahoma, each one still carrying what Dr. Azlin taught me that third morning.
Even now, decades later, I still remember that silhouette in my headlights. Because Shape Fitness didn't start when the doors opened. It started when I realized one simple truth:
Fitness is a personal journey — just you becoming who you were meant to be. Shape Fitness exists to honor that.
If You're Reading This and You're Not Sure
I know some of you are sitting there thinking: I'm not ready. I don't belong in a gym. Everyone will look at me.
I've heard it a thousand times. And I want you to know — that feeling you have right now? I had it too. Sitting in my truck at 5 a.m., terrified that I'd fail.
But here's what I've learned in twenty-two years of watching people walk through our doors:
The person who's nervous? They're usually the one who needs this most — and the one who ends up staying the longest. Because they're not here to show off. They're here to change.
You don't have to be fit to start. You don't have to know what you're doing. You don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to.
Dr. Azlin taught me that on Day Three: some people just need space, peace, and the dignity to better themselves quietly.
That's what we built this place for.
So if you're struggling to take that first step — just know that every single person in our gym started exactly where you are right now. Nervous. Unsure. Wondering if they belonged.
They did. And so do you.
Your Turn
This is your moment. Your door. Your Day One.
Walk through it — we'll be here.
— Andy Copeland, Founder

