Big Mountain Barbell
“Our motivation has always been to have something that brings as many people along with us as we can - and creates a positive experience for everyone involved - instead of focusing on how Lynndsey and I can just elevate ourselves.” That is how Zac Eldridge describes what he and his wife, Lynndsey Eldridge, set out to build at Big Mountain Barbell, their Midvale gym that has grown from a 2,500-square-foot warehouse into an 11,000-square-foot training facility rooted in community.
Members walk in every day to lift, sweat, train, and improve. What many do not know - at least not fully - is how deeply the gym reflects the contrast in Lynndsey and Zac’s early lives, and how that contrast shaped the culture they have so carefully built.
Lynndsey was born in Wyoming and grew up moving all around the West Coast. Before she was born, her father had passed away. Stability, when it appeared, often came through her grandfather. “He owned restaurants, bars, and eventually a small hotel in Wyoming. His businesses were an anchor for me growing up because I spent every summer with him.” Her life was marked by constant movement and change, but watching her grandfather left an imprint. “Knowing my grandpa’s story of growing up a poor farm boy and becoming a multi-business owner, I always knew there was an opportunity to make something for yourself, and your life didn’t have to look like everyone else's to be successful.”
Lynndsey longed to be involved in athletics. Her father had played collegiate sports, and her extended family often asked what she would play. “I always wanted to get involved in sports, but I did not have the support to get to practices or someone encouraging me.” So, she created her own path. She became editor-in-chief of her high school newspaper and began working to support herself. In addition, she took up running, and in college, she went to the gym - but stayed in what felt like safe territory. “I would go to the gym and do cardio, ab exercises, and some workout machines. I was very intimidated by weightlifting.” That changed at Weber State University when she met Zac.
Zac grew up in Sandy, Utah, in the same home from birth until college. Stability allowed him to pursue sports with full intensity. “My older brother was three years ahead of me, so I was constantly chasing boys who were bigger and stronger. It taught me early that it took work to compete.” Football became his focus. The weight room became his second home. “As soon as I saw how lifting weights translated to performance on the field, I was hooked. You could see the difference between the kids who put in the work and the ones who did not.”
When Lynndsey and Zac met at Weber State, they connected in a place that would quietly shape their future - the gym. Lynndsey remembers staying in her corner. Zac invited her elsewhere. “He took me over to the free weight section, and I remember thinking, I cannot go over here. This is the guys’ side.” But he showed her how to lift weights, explaining the movements. He made the space feel accessible instead of intimidating. “I fell in love with lifting it after my first workout with him.”
For the first time, Lynndsey could explore the athleticism she had always wanted in a space that felt safe and self-directed. That moment would later become the heartbeat of their gym - serious training without ego, intensity without intimidation.
For Zac, "When football ended after college, it created a big void in my life. Suddenly, it was time to figure out who I was without the game.” From 2012 to 2014, he worked as a wildland firefighter out of Jackson, Wyoming. The work was seasonal - grueling months from late spring through early fall, followed by winters back in Utah. During fire season, Zac worked relentlessly. “All you do is work. You make decent money, and you do not have time to spend it.”
They were young, twenty-four and optimistic. Fire season became their saving season. While Zac fought fires, Lynndsey joined him in Jackson that first summer, waitressing while studying for her personal training and nutrition certifications.
That was the summer she read The Alchemist, a turning point that brought a new sense of clarity. It was also when she began to feel the first nudges that she wanted to help other women pursue strength rather than thinness.
When they returned to Utah, she began training clients.
During Zac’s second fire season, they decided that Lynndsey would stay with Zac’s parents while building her personal training business, and Lynndsey wanted to deepen their commitment. “We either need to get engaged, or I cannot keep putting this part of my life on hold,” Lynndsey shared. Zac popped the question before he left for that season. She stayed back, building her business. Without fully realizing it, they were laying the foundation for something much bigger.
It was also during those fire years that Zac earned his nickname. Fresh off a collegiate football career and standing 6’1”, he stood out among the smaller firefighters built for mountain terrain. They called him “Big Mountain." When it came time to name their first gym, the answer was waiting. “Big Mountain Barbell just clicked. It felt right for Utah and for what we were building.”
In the fall of 2014, the couple took their leap. They were paying thousands of dollars each month to the gym where they were both training clients after Zac returned home from the fire season. “We thought, if we are paying this much to someone else, maybe we can direct that toward our own business.” At the same time period, in the span of a few months, they got married, opened their first location, and sadly lost Zac’s father. “We had our entire life savings on the line. Every day we woke up knowing we had to make it work.”
There were months they considered selling a car to make rent. They learned taxes and overhead costs through experience. They bought equipment one piece at a time. Their first Sandy location was scrappy. It was personal training only, but it was enough to begin.
After three years, they outgrew this space, and in 2017, Lynndsey found a listing late one night while scrolling deep into the classifieds. The listing was for a building in Midvale - labeled as a cultural center. It was slightly out of their budget, but they went to see it anyway. When they arrived, dumbbells were mounted as door handles. “I remember getting chills. It felt meant to be.”
Inside, there were locker rooms, showers, and saunas. The building had once been the Midvale Athletic Club. The landlord worked with Lynndsey and Zac, easing them into full rent over time. Midvale itself was still in transition. Some warned them about the neighborhood, but the two of them saw a possibility. They transitioned from a personal training facility into a membership gym and expanded thoughtfully. They never overbuilt. And then in 2019, they purchased the building through an SBA loan. Their first mortgage payment was in March 2020. “The same month everything shut down.”
Zac and Lynndsey had just invested both their life savings and the proceeds from selling a rental property into the Midvale building. Then the gym closed. Instead of folding, they checked equipment out to members so people could train at home, and, thankfully, many kept paying their memberships. “Walking through the gym when it was empty was surreal. We did not know what was going to happen.”
When the time came, Lynndsey and Zac reopened carefully, limiting numbers and implementing scheduling systems. It was not easy, but it was necessary. Their clients trusted them to do the right thing. Today, Big Mountain Barbell operates as a 24/7 membership gym with roughly 400 members. It is intentionally not overcrowded. It emphasizes free weights and specialized equipment. “At a lot of commercial gyms, you might see three or four squat racks. We have twenty-seven squat spaces. Our members are not waiting in line.”
Their trainers run independent businesses inside the gym. They are not hourly employees cycling through. “We want our coaches to build real careers, support their families, and thrive.” And culture remains non-negotiable. “We have always tried to make it a safe space for everyone. If someone disrupts that, they are no longer a member.”
Upstairs, machines and cardio welcome newcomers. Downstairs, platforms and barbells challenge seasoned lifters. World record holders train alongside beginners. The environment mirrors the moment that started it all - one person guiding another into a space that once felt intimidating. “It takes time. It happens one step at a time.”
Now in 2026, with their daughter Lucy growing up alongside the business they built, they can finally breathe. They are volunteer at the elementary school, fostering animals, and finding ways to give back to the community.
Zac supports Special Olympics athletes, creating opportunities inside the gym for inclusion and purpose.
Lynndsey continues to lead the online coaching business, Fitbliss Fitness, that she started before the gym was even a thought. What began as a few clients asking for advice has grown into a holistic virtual platform employing 15 experts and serving women far beyond Utah - an extension of the same safe, empowering philosophy Lynndsey first discovered when she stepped into the free weight section with Zac years ago.
The couple also attends city meetings and is continuously figuring out ways to improve the gym, one project at a time. When asked what matters most, Zac circles back to where he began. “If we do a good job serving the people around us and sticking to our morals, everything else takes care of itself. Without the people, it is really nothing.”
