I recently spent an afternoon at Oak Park – CrossFit LA, where gym manager and coach Jamie Silber introduced me to something unusual in the fitness world: a gym that cares more about relationships than memberships.
Jamie, in his early 60s with silver hair, has the fit appearance that you’d expect from a coach. He also has something more — an infectious enthusiasm that lights up when he talks about the gym.
“We are proud not to be a ‘globo’ gym,” Jamie told me, referencing the movie Dodgeball. In that film, Ben Stiller’s character runs Globo Gym, a superficial fitness club. Jamie’s meaning is clear: where chain gyms often feel big and impersonal, Oak Park – CrossFit LA operates differently.
The Rules of Engagement
Oak Park operates on its own playbook. Here, members aren’t allowed to check their phones during class. You can’t stand off to the side with crossed arms. When you’re not actively working out, you’re expected to help or encourage other gym members.
These aren’t just rule; they are agreements between coaches and students.
“The product we create here is human connection,” Jamie explained. And it shows in the numbers: about fifty of the gym’s members have maintained their memberships for over ten years. At large gym chains, that kind of retention is unheard of.
All Ages Welcome
During my visit, I learned about the gym’s most senior student — a 91-year-old gentleman whose wife complained about his terrible posture and constant phone use. After working out at Oak Park, his posture and balance have notably improved. His wife is pleased. (He’s currently taking a three-month break in England.)
On the other end of the age spectrum, Oak Park offers classes for preteens aged 8-11, plus teen classes. The mission is clear: help people of all ages.
More Than a Workout
Every new student at Oak Park is paired with a coach who maintains the relationship and ensures the student shows up and participates. The extent of the coaches’ personal investment surprises new members, Jamie told me.
The impact of this approach became clear through the story of Ryan (not his real name to protect his privacy). After suffering a serious injury away from the gym that required hospitalization, Ryan was surrounded by family and friends. But from his bed, he announced his goal: to get better and return to Oak Park.
Ryan did – and his return was celebrated by both coaches and other gym members. It was an accomplishment and showed his passion for the community.
The Anti-Trend
“We don’t care what is trending. We don’t promote the gym on social media,” Jamie said.
Jamie mentions the words of the gym’s owner, Kenny Kane: “We want to be the antidote to distraction technologies.”
This philosophy extends to their business practices: Oak Park doesn’t offer deals or discounts to lure new members. They focus instead on what they call “intentional, sustainable human growth.”
Classes are kept to twelve to fifteen students, with all skill levels represented — from beginners to very experienced athletes. Everyone helps each other. As Jamie said: “At Oak Park, you don’t just participate. You contribute.”
A Protected Space
Oak Park is housed in a large, high-ceilinged brick building — a former industrial space wedged between Olympic Boulevard and the 10 Freeway. Natural light filters through the many-paned windows, illuminating a room that strikes me as exceptionally clean. Walking in, I immediately noticed how everything was tidy and organized: rows of rowing machines, kettlebells, and air bikes all perfectly aligned.
Beyond Local
Most members are local to Oak Park, but the gym’s pull extends surprisingly far. Some former locals maintain their memberships after moving away. A few members even commute once a month from Wyoming.
The coaches themselves are fully committed — all work full-time at Oak Park except Jay, a part-time coach who serves as an Air Force reservist. When I spoke briefly with Jay, his enthusiasm was palpable: “I’m so lucky I get to be here. And be with these people.”
Jamie’s own journey reflects the gym’s culture. He started as a student, and after a few years, coaches and other students noticed he was beginning to lead classes, not just participate in them. Now he’s been a teacher for twelve years.
The gym includes more than just the main floor. Out back, there’s a smaller patio area for fresh-air exercise sessions, plus a sauna and cold plunge that Jamie tells me are popular with some members. But the real distinction of Oak Park isn’t in its amenities — it’s in the culture they’ve cultivated.
“Most people have a circle of three or four friends,” Jamie observed. “At Oak Park, I feel like I have 150.”
The gym maintains its standards as a CrossFit affiliate while creating what Jamie calls a “protected space” — no cell phones, no folded arms, no negativity. It’s a place where, in Jamie’s words, “we do hard things together.”
The Bottom Line
As I left Oak Park that afternoon, one of Jamie’s comments stayed with me: “We want people to feel they belong here.”
Based on what I saw, they’ve succeeded in creating exactly that — a place where genuine human connection drives members to show up, push harder, and achieve the fitness results they came for.
