In my brain I'm nine years old. But sometimes when I wake up in the morning my body reminds me I ain't. Training people for a living is an incredibly tough gig. It's long hours, hard physical work ,hard mental work and that's even if you aren't that good at it. So few stick around this profession , so few get to do some of the amazing things I've been fortunate enough to experience. Why anybody in their right mind would pursue this as a vocation is a mystery to me, I honestly believe one of the requirements for a successful career as a Trainer is a healthy sense of self delusion coupled with a naivete that borders on the pathological. I'm not being funny.I'm half Drill Sergeant from hell half Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard ["I am big!It's the Gyms that got small!"] Add to that the fact that this is a field populated with scam artists, self described super trainers with their heads so far up their self absorbed ass that all they can do to validate their dubious credentials is pollute social media with shirtless selfies ad nauseam , and that's just the women.
Being in this business has changed me, some for the better , some for the worse-I'd like to think I have always been tough but as I always say 'If you have to tell people you are tough you aren't' you prove it through your actions and a lot of the time it means walking away without saying anything. It is most definitely not for the faint of heart. I've been screwed more times than a hooker with a buy one get one groupon that I've lost count. And yet I continue to not just exist-I thrive. Recently I was treated with a horrifying lack of respect and had to stand my ground against someone I actually liked-Not sure if I won the battle but I will be absolutely goddamned if anyone will ever treat me like that again. But yeah odds are it probably will. It added more stress to an incredibly punishing week , but honestly 'meh' Carry on Ryan.
My significant other suggested that this year was the year we descend on Europe. They've survived the Black Plague and the Inquisition so I'm sure they can handle me. Whenever I travel the goal is to spend frivolously and not worry about being on a budget-if you have to count your simoleans while promenading down the Champs Elysee, you probably shouldn't go. I can easily afford to go but the goal is to not touch Daddys carefully maintained piggy bank. Hence that means selling myself to any reputable offer.
It's funny when you put the Universe on notice-it responds. The last few weeks have been a flurry of one on one classes, teaching you name it, I've been going through offers faster than a bulimic at an all you can eat buffet- My legendary discipline I inherited from 'Dear old Dad' has resurfaced with a vengeance akin to Godzilla burbling up in the bay of Tokyo.
Saturdays involve me rising at the ungodly hour of 530 A.M. gulping down coffee, swallowing ginseng and hitting the road for an 8 A.M. circuit class with four amazing women at a community centre. After that its a two hour teaching/knowledge course that due to response was renewed right through August. Finish that, gulp down more coffee shoot home quickly, have lunch with the significant other and head off to work a Gym shift until 10 PM. Sunday is a day of rest and if weather permits I'm collapsing at our local swimming hole and significant other has promised me a glass of wine or two with dinner. Not that anyone would believe it but Monday is my favourite day of the week. That's a day spent training a few private clients who have been with me for years, after I am done that I have a nice leisurely [my idea of leisurely? Walking straight. ahead like the guy in 'The Terminator' and pushing phone gazing asshole twenty somethings out of the way] walk of exactly 2.2. miles home and get ready to embrace Tuesday.
This past Tuesday and Wednesday were 'Hit the ground Running' days. I show up for a Gym shift at my main place of work and within about 15 minutes find out I have to teach a quick circuit class due to another Instructor being stuck in traffic. Done.I find I'm actually at my best on the fly. It went well.
Wednesday starts all over again at 530 A.M. and one on one training- jumping on our metro going across districts to train again until 730 pm at night, Then for shits and giggles after I do my own workout I decide that it's such a nice night I'll walk 2.2. miles home again. Thursday more of the same, culminating in an absolutely fantastic Athletic conditioning class at the small boutique Gym I normally train my 'privates' [Training my privates...hmmmmmmm maybe I could market it on the internet-nah!].
Here is the funny thing-yeah I'm tired, body aches etc. but what I have found being so uber disciplined is that I fell in love with training people all over again, I mean I always enjoy it but this crazy week was incredibly special for some reason, just watching the joy of people in movement, drilling down into the nitty gritty of program design and watching everything flow in a mixture of sweat, determination, and knowledge. Truth be told I'm having a blast.
No matter how many times I get kicked in the teeth, taken for granted, or just feel like I'm swimming upstream 'Contra La Corriente' as significant other puts it, I survive.This beggars the question that so many of my students and colleagues ask? 'What is the secret to long term success in this industry?'
I honestly don't know.
But if pressed I would have to say being willing to outwork everyone-I can say with absolute certainty that I can outlast anyone half my age. Sorry millenials but my schedule would FLATTEN you. You don't have the 'grit' that it takes. At least not yet.
Second- during those rough periods in my career the best advice I have ever been given in regards to when it feels like the world is against me, or at worst ignored, is to 'go learn something' I only heard that advice a year or so ago but I can tell you it's one of the best pieces of advice I have ever received in my life.
So I'm going to keep going and drag my still pert 55 year old ass forward- ever forward and be open to everything I can. Boundaries can be set, but one of the great things about being my age is I know what I'm good at, and all too well aware of my one or two flaws..[cough cough].Paris Madrid and Barcelona await,wheer I can cheerfully cross off the last item on my bucket list- laying a black rose on the grave of Salvador Dali. Don't ask. and I'm thinking climbing the stairs of the Eiffel Tower might be a fun one to add to a new bucket list-Hell give Daddy a ginseng and I'll just go up the front of it! Au Revoir Bitches!
