WHITE OAK LEISURE CENTRE

Right, where do we start?

IMAGE CREDIT: EVERYONE ACTIVE

As you approach the uninspiring grey box that is White Oak Leisure Centre, a building that is somehow trying too hard and not hard enough at the same time, the tone of your visit is set before you even walk through the door. It’s not uncommon to encounter staff members congregating out front, smoking beside a line of ever-present cars parked along the double yellows — a slightly odd first impression for a place ostensibly dedicated to health and wellbeing.

Inside, you will first pass through reception, typically staffed by disengaged teenagers who seem more interested in each other than the people paying to be there, before encountering the second line of defence: the turnstiles. Present your QR code and wait patiently while nothing happens, only to realise the scanner is smeared with an inch-thick layer of gunk, resulting in several wasted minutes trying to gain entry. The permanently open disabled access gate right next to you would appear to solve the problem, but don’t be tempted — you may well be challenged for using it or run over by one of the exiting mother-with-prams.

Once through, you’ll weave your way past a slew of WET FLOOR signs and head upstairs to the gym. Courtesy appears to be in short supply here though, as holding doors open or stepping aside rarely earns so much as a nod, let alone a thank you. After climbing the stairs and announcing your arrival with your footwear squeaking on the freshly cleaned vinyl, you finally reach the gym itself.

Any expectation of a welcoming or even attentive presence quickly fades. Staff are typically stationed behind a computer, either unwilling or uninterested in acknowledging members as they scan through the barrier. Like much of the experience at White Oak, engagement seems reserved exclusively for friends rather than fee-paying members. Don’t expect help, advice, or even a quick check-in, as entire shifts appear to pass in conversation and laughter while the gym floor effectively manages itself.

And this lack of oversight has consequences. On multiple occasions I’ve waited upwards of 20 minutes to use equipment, not because it was genuinely in use, but because staff were mid-conversation while others awkwardly squeezed past to retrieve attachments nowhere near where they should live. The gym often feels less like a place of work and more like a social club.

If you haven't already been defended by the music blaring so loud it can be heard from the ASDA up the road, you'll soon become aware of a culture among a portion of the members. Loud, repetitive conversations, open mockery of others, and an inflated sense of self-importance are common, regularly drowning out those who simply want to park the outside world at the door and enjoy their hour’s exercise. Though it is a confidence that appears to evaporate the second any of these cliques leave the safety of the gym walls.

All it's a shame, because once you manage to mentally block out the groups hovering around the chest press, or those who feel doing muscle-ups for 2 hours five times a week is somehow a worthy endeavour, the missing locks on cubicle doors, the leaky roof, and the steamy, poorly ventilated changing rooms, there is actually a really decent gym underneath it all.

The equipment, while a little limited, is modern, well maintained, and more than sufficient for regular users. Dumbbells go up to 50kg, kettlebells to 30kg, there’s a good mix of plate and pin-loaded machines, six racks, Theraguns, a turf track with sled, and a solid range of cardio equipment. If anything, the setup encourages you to go for free weights rather than total reliance on machines, which can only be a positive. The gym is clean, recently refurbished, and genuinely a pleasant space to train in. Plus, the carpark is free and has no time limit, which is a bonus in chain establishments.

Beyond the gym, the rest of the centre appears to be thriving. The pool is consistently busy, the Tag Active area is full of wannabe Ninja Warriors, the cafe has some great smells coming from it, and the sports hall always seems to be in use. The centre itself has a lot going for it.

Don't get me wrong, there are a few odd choices to get your head around. Four of the racks face the windows rather than mirrors, meaning you can’t check your form unless it’s dark outside, though every passer-by can spot you just fine. Also, the turf track isn't quite level, and after a recent sled replacement, for someone like myself who was used to regularly pushing 350kg's back and forth, 150 kilos is now a struggle.

Ultimately, the gym at White Oak doesn’t have an equipment problem — it has a standards problem. Rules exist, but they aren’t enforced. Which seems even more hypocritical with slogans like ‘Everyone must do their bit’ plastered on every available surface. Signs ask members not to bring bags onto the gym floor, yet many do without challenge. Weights are left unracked, dumbbells dropped, and poor behaviour ignored while staff quietly tidy up afterwards.

And this is all easily fixable. Holding members accountable improves the experience for everyone. If someone insists on throwing weights rather than reracking them, have a word. If staff need reminding that they’re at work rather than socialising, have a word. A gym isn’t just about what equipment you provide — it’s about the environment you create and maintain.

White Oak has the foundations of a genuinely great gym. Stronger leadership, clearer expectations, and staff who actively engage rather than observe from the sidelines, would mean a far better gym all round. It just needs those in charge to start paying it some attention - once they put their fag down, obviously.