Meet Marc Miller, NYC's Underground Dumbbell Dealer

Marc Miller won’t stop calling and texting. It’s just what he does, he says. He wants me to mention that the 2019 Lexus ES he leased is about to hit its mileage limit, and maybe I could shout out the dealership, so they might read this and throw him a bone? Also, he knows I’m busy, but he recommends I talk to his wife—she has some good stories about his new life. Then, out of the blue, he texts a photo of him flexing on top of the Wall Street Bull.

Anyone who sells or wholesales weightlifting gear in the greater New York City area is already well aware of how Miller operates—he cold-calls anyone who might have a spare kettlebell or dumbbell or weight bench or pull-up bar, then pesters them until they sell him what they’ve got. See, the pandemic has made it damn near impossible to find any in-stock weights for lifting at home, and Marc Miller is the reigning fitness equipment plug for New York City.

Also: Hoboken, Jersey City, Pelham, Putnam County, the Hamptons, Bear Mountain—wherever, really. If you want iron, he’s got it, and he’ll deliver it to you ASAP—he’s made more than 150 deliveries in the last three months. You’ve just got to pay his asking price: $3.50 per pound for dumbbells, $4 per pound for kettlebells, with a $20 delivery fee in Manhattan (and you're negotiating anything further). That's about double, maybe triple, what weights used to cost, back when you could get a 35-pound kettlebell shipped from Amazon Prime in two days. But gyms are closed, kettlebells are sold out everywhere. How badly do you want to push weight? You also have to meet Miller at your door between 3 and 6 a.m., when he makes his home deliveries. There are no other time slots—the rest of the day Miller has clients to virtually train and his own workouts to do.

Miller, 40, landed here because he's always been a hustler, in the never-takes-no sense. He was a physical education teacher once upon a time, then became a trainer, but always considered himself an entrepreneur. A few years ago, after saving his money, he became a co-owner of Independent Training Spot, a chain of three private gyms in New York City where trainers can bring their own clients—a WeWork for trainers, as he describes it. “I was DMing 50 trainers a day on Instagram asking them if they wanted to get into this gym,” Miller fondly recalls. “I figured if I even got one to say yes, then I win. I use that same method to sell equipment.”

Everything was going swimmingly until COVID-19 hit, and gyms closed in mid-March. Folks kept asking Miller if they could borrow his gyms' weights, saying they were sold out everywhere else. To stay afloat, he decided to find all the weights he could and sell them himself. He’s been doing that ever since, and documenting his “adventures,” as he refers to his deliveries, on Instagram. His wife Chrissy wasn’t, and still isn’t, thrilled about the career turn.

“I think the D word—divorce—was thrown out a couple of times,” she says. “I appreciate what he’s doing, but at first, it was terrifying to think that he could be out there while the virus is circulating and really taking hold of the city.”

Miller, for his part, he says he has no intention of slowing down. “The gratefulness of people when they get their equipment has become part of the reason I do this,” he says. “One guy, I gave him a barbell and plates, and it was like he had an orgasm when he picked it up. He was like, AUGH.”

Below, NYC's foremost kettlebell plug details what it takes to keep his operation going and the payload capacity of a Lexus ES passenger seat.

GQ: How many miles have you put on your car?

Marc Miller: It’s a 2019 Lexus ES on a lease, and I contacted them today, because they told me to do that when it’s starting to get close to the mileage you’re not supposed to go over.

But this is what happened, bro. I'm a gym owner. We were at our peak, we were crushing it, and then this shit happened. We thought we’d take a two-week sabbatical and then be back to work. Luckily, my own personal training clients were okay with me virtually training them. But they needed weights and a way to progress. Otherwise they’re stuck with their bodyweight and that just sucks. Everyone was telling me there were no kettlebells or dumbbells available.

So I started scavenging. The wholesalers sold out right away. We saw who really was a manufacturer in the U.S. and who isn’t. I was dealing with fitness showrooms for a while. Once they were completely wiped out, I started getting stuff from the back of their warehouses. And then I found this one guy in Connecticut who allowed me to order directly from their source, and I ordered a shit-ton.

Some of the people right away—and I don’t want to name names—they were price gouging. Though I guess I can’t really say that. Some people think my prices are high, but you know what? They don’t know what the hell goes into it. They don’t know what price I’m getting it for, or how many miles I’m putting on my car, or how many fucking farmer’s carries I’ve done back and forth with the weights.

Are you selling the weights to keep afloat?

Yeah, I’ll tell you something: Our landlords still demand rent, and the city still demands tax from them, which makes zero sense to me. They’re trying to squeeze blood from a stone. I have two kids and a wife, and I have a tremendous amount of money invested in my three businesses. What the fuck am I supposed to do? I don’t have money coming in from the gym anymore. I need to make money from something else. I’ve got to keep people aware of me. I started doing the Instagram videos to document the stories and places I’ve been to, and all the times I had to shit in the woods when I was out in the Hamptons because I drank too much coffee in my car at 3 o’clock in the morning.

Maybe we can back up for a second—

Oh, I didn’t tell you about the hoarders, either.

You did not. But let’s cross off some basics first. You’re born and raised in New York? I want to hear a little bit more about your background.

I was born in Long Island—Oceanside, New York. I live in Forest Hills now. What do you mean, “my background?” I’m American, white, Jewish. I’m married to a Sicilian girl named Chrissy Miller. She’s awesome. If it weren’t for her, these deliveries that I do right now would not be possible. She works and home schools our kids at the same time, which is kind of impossible. It’s a situation we’ve all been forced into.

Were you just driving around Long Island stopping at random stores? Or had you been tipped off on who had supplies in stock?

I’m a serial cold-caller. I did that with every single storefront all over Long Island, and I placed orders at all of them. Then I started collecting and taking tallies—when are you going to get that in? When are you going to get this in? Later on, I started getting really good products. I’m not proud of all the dumbbells I sold initially, but then I started leaning more towards quality.

And you’re lugging all of this into your Lexus? How does that work?

The Lexus can hold 350 pounds in each seat. I was a little nervous about that at first, but a Lexus needs to be able to fit a large-bodied person in each seat. The passenger seat is probably the best seat to put stuff on, and the floor of the passenger seat. I figured that out right away.

People are really meeting you at the door early in the morning?

Oh yes. Between 3 and 6 a.m. I tell them that’s the time of day you can get around the city the best.

One of my biggest deliveries was to Putnam County—$3,000. Just an insane amount of equipment. And then I went for a run while I was up there. I get fitness in wherever I go.

Another crazy story is when I was at an Air Force base in the West Hamptons. There was an Air Force sign, and I thought, Oh, that’d be so cool if I did a kettlebell complex in front of it. I get up to the sign, and the next thing I know, I’m getting surrounded by these trucks, and out come dudes in berets with machine guns. They’re like, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” I’m like, “Selling kettlebells and dumbbells. You guys need any?” I asked them if I could shoot a quick video in front of the sign, and told them they looked awesome, because they were in full garb. They said it was fine as long as I didn’t film the airfield. That was a nail-biting experience.

How much longer are you anticipating doing these deliveries?

As long as there’s a demand for them, I’ll continue. It’s money I need in my pocket. I knew I could make money from personal training, but not enough to pay money on three gyms. Will people still want to get equipment from me once the bigger companies get more stuff in? Who knows. I still have another shipment coming in, and when that arrives, that’ll be my last bang of dumbbells. As far as kettlebells are concerned, I still have a whole bunch and know where to get a whole bunch of them, but only the heavier stuff now.

This doesn’t necessarily sound lucrative.

It’s not lucrative at all. It’s something to keep me busy. Did I make a little profit in it? Yes. But at what cost? Am I going to owe it on my car? I do know that my bank account is bigger now than when I started, but I haven’t gotten rich off it. I’m a survivor. I’m not a roll-over-and-die person. I find a way, whatever way might be. I’m a New Yorker and that’s what we do. True New Yorkers don’t run. We stay and freaking work.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

They’re sold out everywhere. How complicated could it be to just make some more? Turns out, very.

Originally Appeared on GQ