All About You FRIDAY – The Story Behind the Name

About a year ago, I was explaining my blog to a patient. “There’s something in it for everyone,” I said, “A different theme every day. Monday is about movement. Tuesday is about anatomy. Wednesday is about manual therapy. Thursday is about kinesiology. And Friday has nothing to do with physical therapy. It’s a personal enrichment piece. Something to help you out with life.” All About YOU FRIDAY.

He signed up.

A few weeks later, he said, “I really like your blog. I always learn a lot. But Friday isn’t about me. It’s all about YOU!” He was an analytical engineer and I realized he wasn’t wrong. I often use Fridays to tell a story that I hope shifts something inside of you because I think stories are powerful. But I’m still laughing at his analysis of my Friday blog.

I’ve had enough change recently and I’m not sure All About Me FRIDAY would have the same draw. So the name stays the same. But get ready, because here we are again and I’m about to tell another story…about me.

I wasn’t born an entrepreneur. In fact, I think I make the perfect employee. I am a dependable and a hard worker. I take pride in what I do and I’m a team player. But I’m also a dreamer.

Back in 1998, I had a vision. Not a real vision where I stop breathing and see something in multicolor. I mean, I had a dream that I could launch a place that wasn’t just about physical therapy. I wanted to have a place where learning and discovering sat at the core. I dreamed it could be big. Really big.

At the heart of the business would be a Think Tank. A special room where we would assemble and discuss ways to solve musculoskeletal and biomechanical problems. There were two rules for the Think Tank: #1 Be curious. #2 Check your ego at the door.

Nobody was allowed to scoff at another’s idea. It would be an environment of free-flowing thoughts and we would write them all down (remember this was 1998) on large sticky notes on the walls.And then we would take our best ideas and teach the world and people would come from all over to have their pain problems solved.

We would have high-tech stuff and a large space with high ceilings so people would have room to jump and run and throw balls and stuff. We could wear lab coats and walk around with clipboards recording all sorts of interesting things. We would be like the Mayo Clinic of physical therapy. And the name of the business would reflect all of that.

The Michigan Institute for Human Performance (MIHP).

“You’re not really an institute,” my husband said.

I looked up the definition of institute:

An organization created for a specific purpose, usually focusing on education, research, or scientific work

I won that argument.

I wanted it to sound big. Because it was going to be big. So I put Michigan in the name. Plus, I figured we could refer to it by the acronym MIHP. That way if I ever moved out of state, I could just call it the McLaughlin Institute for Human Performance.

I created the LLC and put my dream into motion. Only back then, the MIHP World HQ was the living room of my 1,100 square foot bungalow that I shared with the real CEO, my 5-year old autistic son who pretty much set my after clinic hours schedule.

MIHP started as a consulting/seminar business, mostly delivering wellness seminars in corporations while I worked my full-time job at someone else’s outpatient clinic. I also managed to talk the Bloomfield Hills lacrosse coach into letting us use the team to try out some of our ideas in injury prevention, especially since they had just come off a season plagued with ankle sprains. It was a humble beginning.

It wasn’t until 2002 that I finally opened up a PT clinic. A 4,300 square foot facility with…you guessed it…a Think Tank room. I loved that room. It wasn’t anything fancy but I dreamed one day of putting up a white board that would automatically transfer stuff to computers and replacing our plastic folding tables with real desks. It never happened.

In 2011, we had to down-size to our current location and the Think Tank room disappeared. Turns out, square footage that isn’t making you money can be very expensive in tough economic times. Still, we popped up our folding tables and sat around each week talking about innovative ways to solve problems.

And despite the fact that I have a large decal on the wall with our logo, getting our name right has always been a challenge.

“MHIP. MPHI. MHPI.” We’ve even gotten calls for people seeking information on the Maternal Infant Health Program.

“I just call it Sherry’s shop,” a patient said to me this week realizing he didn’t even know the name of my clinic. I laughed. That would make an ugly sticker.

A name is important. It sets the tone for the business. But after being in business for over 28 years, I realize the business sets the tone for the business. My office manager overheard a conversation in our “lobby” recently:

“What does MIHP even stand for?” a patient said to another while waiting to be called back.

“I think it stands for the Michigan Institute for Happy People,” the other replied.

We are a place that troubleshoots biomechanical problems at a high level. And we deliver physical therapy. It doesn’t happen in a fancy room with high tech equipment. But our folding tables have stood the test of time.

And when I look around the gym on any given day. I do see a lot of happy people.

Mission accomplished.

It’s been a long week. Don’t forget to celebrate.

Until next time…