Training

I wrote about my last year's trainer; it's probably time to introduce you to this year's.

On paper, they're similar: college seniors, long blonde ponytails, excited about helping folks get fitter. But their personalities are night and day.

Last year's trainer was tough, serious. She was very nice, and very good, but also very firm. When we talked, it was mostly about her future or her studies or her work. She had me deadlifting 125 pounds or something ridiculous. When I couldn't do something, or thought I couldn't, she scoffed at me, and insisted I could. I want her on my side in a zombie attack.

This year's trainer is bubbly, fun, maybe a little unnecessarily worried about going too hard on me — though she's learning. (Example: Last night, we were doing stirpots. She had planned to have me do 10, but then decided to let me do as many as I could — which was 30.) She knows everyone in the gym, and greets them all. She is very encouraging, pointing out every rep done with good form, praising every completed set. And when we talk, it's about everything — her classes and her roommates and their girlfriends and local bars. I want her to coach my (hypothetical future) children in gymnastics.

Either way, I love this cheap, healthy, fun interaction I get to have with our students.

Day 16 of my month of gratitude: I am thankful for today's slight muscle soreness, and for how I got it, and for my own brute strength.