The Room Was Built for People

5 days ago
3 min read

When we built MoveMaker Studio, the plan was simple.

Create a space where the Fitness Studio of DeWitt could hold small group fitness classes—something warm, welcoming, and a little more personal than the typical gym.

And for the most part, that’s exactly what it’s become.

We currently run about 20 classes per week, scattered throughout the mornings, afternoons, evenings, and weekends. The room is alive during those times. Music pumping, weights clanking, people laughing mid-lunge.

But like most physical spaces, the schedule leaves some big pockets of quiet.

Saturday and Sunday afternoons. Most evenings after 7. The occasional random lull.

At first, I didn’t think much about those gaps. Empty time just meant time to clean, plan, reset playlists, and occasionally sit on the floor staring at the wall wondering if I should repaint something.

But recently, something interesting started happening.

My brother is part of the Bare Bones Improv Comedy Troupe, and twice now they’ve needed a last-minute rehearsal space when their usual meeting place at Riverwalk Theatre wasn’t available.

So twice now, the studio has turned into something very different.

No weights. No playlists. No squats.

Just a group of adults pretending to be squirrels negotiating business mergers or pirates arguing over treasure maps.

And a lot of laughter.

Not polite chuckles.The kind that makes people bend over, slap their knees, and completely forget what they were supposed to say next.

At first, I’ll admit, I felt a little… protective.

This space had been built with a very specific purpose in mind.Fitness classes. Movement. Wellness.

Not improv. Not comedy.Not people pretending to be dinosaurs applying for desk jobs.

But then they arrived.

And within minutes, the room was full.

And as I stood there watching it unfold, I realized.

The room wasn’t built for fitness. It was built for people.

Even though no one was doing burpees.Even though there wasn’t a single resistance band in sight.

The room was still doing its job.

People were moving. People were connecting. People were leaving a little lighter than when they walked in.

Which, if we’re being honest, is the actual goal of wellness, whether we’re talking about fitness or comedy.

It made me revisit a conversation I had earlier in the week with one of our members who had to pause classes for some rather frustrating health reasons. When someone is used to showing up regularly, stepping away—even temporarily—can start to feel like stepping away from the community altogether.

But wellness has never been limited to the hour you spend in a workout.

So we brainstormed other ways she could keep some of those same ingredients in her life while her body heals.

Coffee with a friend. A creative class. A volunteer shift. A book club. An improv group.

Different activities.

Same human needs.

Because when you zoom out far enough, the things we’re really chasing through exercise aren’t always the workouts themselves.

It’s the laughter. The connection. The sense of belonging. The feeling that you showed up somewhere—and someone noticed.

Sometimes that happens through planks.

Sometimes it happens through stretching on the floor with a group of friends.

And sometimes it happens through a bunch of adults pretending to be astronauts in a room that used to be a garage.

The studio may have started as a place for fitness classes.

But it turns out it’s really just a container for people to show up as themselves.