Job Hazards and Personal Disasters

Coming from both a training and a theatre background I have friends who hate exercise, friends who are athletes, friends who are fit and friends who used to be athletes but currently hate exercise. The latter is where our story begins today.

Years ago I vowed never to train family or loved ones. Whenever I have tried to personal train someone close to me it has turned out disastrous. First, they have the lowest compliance with the programs I have created for them. Second, they try to bargain their way out of doing the workouts THEY approached ME to design for them. And, they argue with me when I try to correct their form, something that drives me nuts. 

Recently (and very foolishly) I broke that vow and now I am remembering why I made it in the first place. The most difficult of all, even more so than training my exercise hating mother (which I didn’t think possible), is training someone I am currently or used to date. Most people date others with common interests and I am no exception. When I belonged to theatre companies, I dated actors (and subsequently vowed to never do that again; a vow I’ve had no problem keeping), now I generally date cyclists or martial artists. The martial artists don’t need my professional services – they know the human body better than any family doctor I’ve ever had. Then there are the cyclists; the epitome of grace and fluidity on the bike, complete disasters off of it!

Normally, when working with a client I have strict parameters around the relationship. We meet at the gym at a mutually agreed upon time. If they are late, the time is still subtracted from their session. If they cancel at the last minute, they lose the session. They listen, they ask questions, they do what they are told because, well, that’s why they hired me!

People I date(d) show up late, and think nothing of calling and cancelling at the precise time I am expecting the doorbell to ring. Ah yes, the doorbell is ringing because they are training in my home. Maybe it’s the theatre training or maybe the karate sensei in me, but when I am training someone, anyone, I get into the role. I treat everyone like a client. I don’t give kisses or caresses, I don’t want to sit and chat or cuddle a bit before we head into the basement. Work is work and I have no problem compartmentalizing. I dated another black belt for years and for the first 2 no one at the dojo even realized we were dating. I have watched another sensei punish his wife with pushups in class. It’s all about the discipline in karate and dojo is dojo, it is a separate and distinct society.

As startling at it is, here in the closing months of 2011, many people still hold on to the ancient, outdated beliefs of the traditional roles of women and men. Women should be nurturing and vulnerable and need protecting, and although they are supposed to have a butt you could bounce coins off of, they aren’t supposed to kick butt to get it that way. Men are supposed to be providers and protectors who can also fix things. The fact that most men provide for their families with desk jobs that make them out of shape has not altered expectation anymore than wanting a woman with a great body has even though exercise is the only way to achieve it.

Now, when you are a female personal trainer who also has a couple of degrees of black under her belt, even the most traditional or sexist of men recognize that you don’t need their protection. Unless they have really healthy self esteem, though, they will not appreciate that you are also more athletic than them, until you have them in your basement, teaching them some strength exercises. They may be able to handle you being more flexible (men really don’t care about flexibility, anyway…at least not their own); they may be ok with you having better balance. But even the most progressive guy will feel emasculated if you are stronger. That’s when the arguments start. The nice guys, with healthy self esteem or at least modern views of gender equality will make excuses and explanations for why they have the weaknesses they have. The insecure guys who hold fast to sexist stereotypes about guys and dolls will feel so threatened they begin to tear you down, dragging your self esteem to their levels. They start by looking around the room and telling you what needs fixing (because, they can fix it, they are manly men) or cleaning (because you are not a womanly woman). If the insecurities are really bad, his exgirlfriends will start to creep up in conversations over the next few days. Generally in a reference to how good she was at something that either you are hopeless at or that you are really proud of but she does better. It’s an ugly game. Sadly, that doesn’t make it any less popular.

My sensei has a lot of platitudes he repeats to us. We call them “Senseisms”. Some of them are hysterically funny and some of them are so insightful you’ll find yourself repeating them anytime a friend is in need. My favourite is, “don’t blame yourself for what other people lack.” The next time I find myself in my basement, listening to the litany of charges against my femininity I am going to remember that the list has nothing to do with my lacking femininity; the lacking is of self esteem on the “manly” side.