Steve Roest is a man who lives the dream. As the proud owner of six of the most exclusive health clubs in the city (with a clientele that includes Raptors Jerome Williams and Antonio Davis), a former CFL player, and a husband and father, he’s just about got it all-not to mention that he’s an alumnus of a winning Varsity Blues football program.
Shocking, yes, but there was a time, in the late 1980’s and the early 1990’s, when the words “U of T football” were preceded by the word “winning.” The team didn’t attract crowds, but it steamrolled the competition-and Roest was a part of the victory era. He played defense for the Blues when they almost swept the province to play in back-to-back Yates Cups.
Though the winning days of U of T football are a thing of the past, Roest is confident that the experience of team play hasn’t changed a bit. “The football guys have lost a lot lately,” he says, “but in life, it’s the same way. You have to learn these sorts of lessons somehow.”
For Roest, the lessons he culled from university life and athletics primed him for the path of success. After graduating from U of T, he was quickly drafted by the Toronto Argonauts, and for a short while continued to play professional football. Afterwards, Roest shifted gears and pursued a corporate agenda. The top three floors of the downtown Toronto Dominon Centre is where this former footballer has now come home to roost. The Fitness Institute, the top flight exercise and health facility that Roest owns and operates, occupies the breathtaking real estate.
Dining in the club’s restaurant, overlooking the ACC, SkyDome, and Harbourfront, Roest explains what being a Varsity Blue had meant to him. He cherished his time playing, but once football was over, he cut himself off from that world. He did not return to coach as many former players do. Nor did he try to hang onto his glory by drifting from pro tryout camps to walk-on tryouts. Instead, Roest dedicated himself to his wife Andra (a former standout track athlete) and their two sons, and to his personal training business.
This business enabled him, three years ago with partner Clive Caldwell (a former world class squash player), to form the Cambridge Group and purchase the six clubs he now co-owns. The business is worth roughly seven million dollars.
Though Roest’s roots are in personal training, most days the businessman dons a suit and tie. Except for special clients, that is. Toronto Raptors power forward Jerome “Junk Yard Dog” Williams is a devoted disciple of Roest’s training program, and for him, Roest laces up his sneakers.
“Steve is a very motivated, uplifiting, and positive person,” says JYD, “which is important not only for your physical state, but for your mental state as well.” Roest has become far more than a personal trainer for Williams and a select number of his teammates-he’s become a lifestyle advisor. For example, after a recent one-on-one session, Roest and JYD went grocery shopping. For the basketball star, healthy diet choices are essential in addition to his rigorous physical training.
“[Steve’s] approach and style is to take each day as an improvement day,” explains Williams, “he’s more than just a trainer, because most trainers don’t take it that far.” And the proof is in the pudding. In the first week of NBA play this season, JYD went from ninth in the league in rebounding to third-“and it’s all thanks to [Roest’s] program,” stressed the lanky forward.
But while the tailor-made health regime has helped get Williams into the best shape of his professional career, Roest and his Fitness Institute are not for the average joe.
The clubs, says Roest, are not “gyms” in the same sense as the myriad fitness centres that dot the city. Instead of the damp, dingy basements with iron and steel weights, Roest’s clubs provide their members with everything from a private health clinic, to a restaurant, health spa and sauna services, and personal trainers-a number of whom are former Blues. They are, in a sense, “personal change” clubs.
This total makeover does not come cheap, and the $2,000 yearly membership fee limits the clientele to mainly upper level executives and such. But, Roest explains that this is how his business operates, and he feels that his clientele are better served at his clubs than at other fitness facilities.
The same can be said, Roest adds, of U of T: “The University is run like a business. It has to be, and sometimes, that will mean some aspects of the student experience will suffer.” Unfortunately, he says, its the Blues football program that has suffered a lot lately.
