Musings from my at-home gym

This month marks a fun, albeit grammatically questionable, milestone: my 4-year peloversary.

My inner circle may be surprised I haven’t yet blogged about Peloton, as my daily “sweat with swagger” commitment predates Robin Arzón becoming a household name.

I was an early adopter, back when I could travel to Peloton’s NYC studio to tabata my heart out with Robin and my other favorite instructors in person.

Years before the fitness-meets-tech company went public in September 2019; what seems like a lifetime prior to COVID-19 lockdowns expediting subscriptions north of 2.3 million; three Thanksgivings before 50,000 people simultaneously clipped in for the 2020 Turkey Burn ride; prior to celebrity status earning instructors spots in super bowl commercials (I love you Emma Lovewell) and on Dancing with the Stars (text CODY to 21523!).

Back when folks thought Peloton was for supermodels (I am not) who live in glass houses (I do not).

I was simply a spinning devotee since 1999, losing patience with the constant clamor for a sticky bike in ill-timed group classes and

internalizing increased anxiety on the walk home from said classes—news about the uptick in violent muggings and carjackings in my Chicago neighborhood was relentless.

Friends did not understand.

Today, many of those friends are among the platform’s 6.2 MILLION members.

One of those members, referring to the Century Club t-shirt Peloton sends when a rider takes their 100th class, recently posted in a Peloton-related social media group:

“Don’t I deserve more from Peloton than a cotton t-shirt?”

Wait, what?

You deserve a material gift for working out?

From the company who sold you the equipment?

She paid a lot of money for the bike, she argued, not to mention the monthly membership fee. And those classes are hard.

Truth. But didn’t she also choose that investment?

Perhaps as a pledge to her health?

Maybe to shake up her exercise game, avoid the gym, or rock out to curated playlists?

None of us are in a position to judge anyone’s motivation for—and challenges to—starting and maintaining a fitness practice. Indeed, I’m living proof that an exercise journey is a unique rolling hill: personal records punctuated by plateaus, injuries, recoveries, fear, doubt, health concerns, grief, work and family commitments, financial stressors, travel, exhaustion, anxiety and depression, apathy, and a host of other challenges.

And depending on our current circumstances, we may tap into an ever-evolving arsenal of inspiration and support.

Peloton knows this. The largest interactive fitness platform in the world employs expert research marketers who understand their audience, offering badges for completing challenges, encouraging virtual high fives to fellow riders, and pushing out emails on behalf of your top instructor when they “miss seeing you on the leaderboard.”

To be sure, my reaction to the Facebook inquiry was not about the poster wanting the branded apparel. I questioned, rather, her suggestion that she deserved (more than) a t-shirt.

Does the company owe members that black tee?

What if the company is your nonprofit and the members are your supporters?

Do donors deserve a t-shirt/mug/tote bag for making a gift?

How about a logo-emblazoned umbrella for an upgraded membership?

Will the inspiration to give come from this subject line that moments ago landed in my inbox: "Renewal Time: Your Thank You Gift Is Waiting"?

Because people give to make themselves feel good, right? Or because they believe in the mission? Or, or, or?

So many questions. And you know the answer: It depends.

It depends on the individual—and on your organization communicating in ways that both promote and reflect understanding the donor. Not assuming they want what you want. Not betting that long-time supporters are more deserving of and/or less eager for perks than new ones. Not doing all the talking.

No doubt Peloton’s "I miss you on the leaderboard" email hits different for a rider who has been vacationing on a sandy beach versus one who lost their bike to a house fire.

Maybe an introvert sees a t-shirt as a quiet way to spread awareness about the rare disorder your organization works to cure. A mug may be the sentimental choice for another because it reminds them of the coffee-loving friend who fought the disease.

For some, it’s not that deep. They may expect a thank you gift, or they could reject any such offer, perhaps feeling it is in opposition to their intended altruism.

Good thing you’ve been listening to them.

Of course, this conversation isn’t limited to thank you gifts. Listen to individuals’ stories. Understand why they give. When you build strong relationships with your donors, you can better respond to their desired impact with tailored communications and authentic engagement opportunities.

So what do donors deserve?

In addition to the widely endorsed points outlined in the Donor Bill of Rights, created in part by the Association of Fundraising Professionals, I propose that donors deserve to be heard. Only then can we show appreciation in a way that’s meaningful to them.

If your organization wants to elevate its audience-driven development writing and editing, contact me today—I’m here to help!

Are membership premiums and thank you gifts part of your stewardship or donor recognition plans for the coming year? If so, how will you communicate the reason for the gift? Comment below or let me know at caren@carenfriedmancomms.com.