Scary

I have been told recently that I am scary.  I attended a up skill training in my profession in which they asked us to identify one word that would make you sad if you felt like someone would use this word to describe you.  My word was Scary. 

My passion is group fitness.  I love it because of the inclusiveness, and the energy that is created in a room of people working hard to achieve a common goal.  I pride myself on my abilities to push people out of their comfort zones.  To help them reach their goals physically and mentally.  I feel like in this lifetime I have been given a gift to instill and cultivate passion for health in others.  The last emotion in the world I would want to create in people is fear. 

My fitness journey started 10 years ago.  During pregnancy with my daughter I gained 80 pounds.  I lost about 10 pounds after delivery but kept a good amount of weight on my small frame for a year after my first child’s birth.  I was an emotional eater.  I had struggled with depression throughout my short life span.  I developed a layer of fat over my body to hide from issues that I was too afraid to face.  I had moved back to the town that I had grown up in during the final months of my pregnancy.  I had on different occasions come across people I had grown up with, family friends who could no longer recognize me because of my dyed dark hair and my changed body.  Part of me felt comfort in that. Part of me liked the anonymity I didn’t want to be recognized as the blonde haired cheerleader from my past. I struggled with that former version of myself.  At the risk of sounding arrogant I struggled with the pressure that beauty can put on a person.  I felt like people had preconceived notions about who I was as a person. I also wasn’t the person I wanted to be in my youth.  I made bad decisions. I hurt people.  I didn’t like the legacy I created for myself. I was and still am always compared to my mother, who is gorgeous, but people always strangely tell me how I am not quite as pretty as she is.  For these and other reasons too personal to mention for me beauty equaled disgust. I knew though that the life style I had created for my self wasn’t making me feel better about myself and it was certainly not the type of life that I wanted to role model for my daughter.

Thankfully I started working at the kids club at a gym in town, so I could work and bring my daughter with me.   At first I didn’t even work out.  When working at a gym the last place I wanted to go was back to the gym.  I hated working out so that was the best excuse in the world for me.  My mother encouraged me to go with her to a 5:00am spin class with the premise of, if you work out before your day starts you will have no way to put it off.  I hated the experience.  The first class I went to I went up to a bike and started to adjust the settings.  A woman came up to me, obviously upset, and said “that is my bike.”  I explained to her that I didn’t realize that people had certain bikes.  She went on to tell me that it was important for her to have that bike because of its position in relation to the fans.  I was mortified.  Class hadn’t even started and I already screwed up.  During the class I felt like a failure.  Everyone in the class knew my mom and I was embarrassed for her that she had to bring in her fat daughter.  I couldn’t even do 20 minutes worth of work in the class with out feeling like I was going to throw up.  My butt felt like it was on fire because of the uncomfortable seat.  I didn’t want to go back. 

I let my butt heal one day and then decided to try again.  Everyone kept telling me this was what was to be expected in a spin class.  One day was not enough time.  I hopped back in the saddle of the bike and wanted to scream.  I couldn’t imagine why people would choose to put them selves through this and with a smile and what seemed to be a tremendous amount of joy.  In fact, the second class I went to my mom explained to me that you had to go 30 minutes early to class to even get a bike.  4:30am??!!?? I secretly thought she was nuts.  I quickly realized why this second class was so popular.  The instructor came in and it was clear she had an amazing relationship with the class.  They loved her.  She commanded the room before she even put on the music.  She had the best music.  It wasn’t even music I would have picked out, but when she played it her passion for it was contagious.  She did exude a lot of bravado, but I liked it.  I needed someone confident to pull me through the life I created for myself.  She made the class fun.  I forgot about how badly my butt hurt and found myself actually having a great time.  After that class I attended every class she taught on the schedule.  She not only inspired me in the class she would talk to me afterward and we became really good friends.   To this day I question if it weren’t for that positive experience in that second class I took I wonder where my life would be today.  

I think that is why I am so worried about being thought of as scary.   I know that attending one class created a path for me that I cherish.  I would never want to intimidate someone and stunt one’s ability to move forward in their fitness journey.  I can honestly say I love the way I feel now.  I feel comfortable in my skin.  I enjoy my life.  I want more than anything to share this feeling with as many people as possible.  I feel in my heart it is one of my life’s great purposes.  The last thing I want to do is get in my own way.  Hearing that I am scary is resonating true to me.  I need to make some shifts and find balance.  I pride myself on being “hard core.”  I even have a pair of sneakers that have the words “hard core” imprinted on them.  I need to go back to my roots and tap in to the girl I once was entering in to a class the first time.  I know a lot of people come to my classes because they enjoy the challenge, members who like to be pushed to a place that they feel that they could not reach on their own.  I trust in my abilities as an instructor that I can reach a place where I am no longer intimidating. I don’t want to swing too far in the other direction and take away from the experience of those who want and need the push but the goal I am setting for myself is to be warm.  I want to host a class that is well rounded.  That people feel welcome and leave challenged and inspired.  I want my first impressions to be thoughtful, and when people talk about me and my class I want the first word they think of to be “inspiring”.  I know that is the way I felt after I had my first positive group exercise experience.  I am forever grateful. 

I have had issues with image and the way in which I am perceived my whole life.  In my life I am warm, calm, thoughtful, strong, and full of energy.  It is only fair for my class to experience all parts of my personality and not just expose them to certain sides of myself.  The only way to change ones perception of you, in my opinion is through action.  Despite the fact that my classes are full, I know that I have not reached my full potential, I know I have room for a tremendous amount of growth.  I am so thankful that someone told me they were scared of my class. I know I will have better experiences in every class I teach. I know I will be able to authentically take care of every member in my class.   I know what it feels like to attend a class for the first time and not know what to expect.  I need to be brave enough to go back to the beginning.