Unfit

“You’re at the gym so much, you should be a personal trainer!”
No. No, I shouldn’t.
“You really know what you’re doing! And you’re so dedicated! You know what? You’d make a great personal trainer!”
No. No, I wouldn’t.
“You’re so good at this stuff and you have so much energy! You could be a personal trainer!”
No. No, I couldn’t.
“You should/would/could be a personal trainer! You’d be like a drill sergeant!”
No. No, I sh-w-c-ouldn’t. But yes. Yes, I would be a drill sergeant.
No no no, a thousand times no. In response to everyone who has ever told me that I would make a good personal trainer, the answer is a resounding 288-point, bold-faced, all-caps, underscored, italicized, big, fat, pulsing, fire engine red “no”. To the nth power.
Yes, I’m “good at it”. And dedicated. Focused. Energetic. And a whole host of other adjectives. But, you see, there’s a big difference between doing it for yourself and doing it for other people. The only kind of personal training I’ll ever do is the kind where “personal” means ME.
I have a “no nonsense” approach to working out, and don’t like to talk while I’m doing it. I don’t like to be interrupted. I don’t like to talk about what I do at the gym. I hate the words “reps” and “sets”. I would never say “Feel the burn” to anyone. I can barely type those words without cringing. I am not a cheerleader. Or a babysitter. Or a psychologist. I am more like a drill sergeant. Only there are you correct.
I would not let women do pushups on their knees. I would not allow anyone to walk more slowly on the treadmill than he does on the street. I would not have any compassion for someone who laughed as she told me she couldn’t push herself during a session because last night she wolfed down a half-gallon of ice cream while watching some jackassy reality TV show.
So, no. I would not make a good personal trainer. I make a good trainer to myself, and that’s it, because I don’t accept excuses from myself. I am harder on myself than I have ever seen any of the personal trainers on their clients. My “interior monologue” is more fierce than anything I’ve heard dribbled from the lips of a trainer who’s coaxing his whining client to push herself hard enough to actually break a sweat.
“Wow! I like your philosophy! I’m sorry, but I still think you should be a personal trainer! With your attitudeBlahhhCharlieBrownAdultsTalkingBlahblahhhhhh…”
No. No I should not. Really.
I will hear no more o’ fit.
This time last year: Equinox Bulletin Board. A-Ha!