I should not talk about popcorn. It is a slippery place for me, even though I eat it air popped with Old Bay Seasoning, still slippery, like an alcoholic sitting alone at a bar in a local watering hole, having a tuna fish sandwich and a Dr Pepper .
But back to personal training, I did not succeed at investing in a personal trainer, because I was unwilling to invest in myself. I was feeling guilty for not working out, and choosing health.
I paid the money to be there, but I was not really invested. I don't blame those guys
I think the trainers could see it....just another guy who purchased the ticket but won't even get on the plane. "So we will do the minimal with this guy".I just was unmotivated, and depressed - really depressed, anti depressant depressed and so freaking anxious. And I had no clue, and I was a therapist, licensed, certified, genuine, helper but I couldn't see my own stuff. And in late 2010 I did.
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But I went to many gyms, and often they offered the services of a personal trainer, who was usually a cute little guy in a blue shirt, carrying a clipboard. Usually these guys were very wholesome, "Mormonesque" types with big smiles, 8 dollar an hour hearts. The point is they were not trainers, maybe, they would become trainers. They were novices, I was polite and distant and usually did the routine on my own, until my card filled up. Then I joined another gym.
I had one gal, about 87 pounds, spoke in a little girl voice. I was always been highly concerned with that Kristen Chenowith voice...Something not right in Kansas. And she was anorexic. I wondered as I sat at the Lat Pull Down at yet another gym, " Why would a gym have an anorexic personal trainer" She did not return on my second visit. I just hope she went to a reputable eating disorder clinic.
Oh, another guy, texted and bit his pudgy fingernails the whole time he was with me. He was an unpleasant melody of self doubt and apathy . One day, as I was moaning doing his version of squats, he asked me for a pencil. My ass was half way to the floor. "And I thought, I am paying you and you asked me for a pencil: Being the nice evangelical Christian I was, I stopped, ass almost to linoleum, and got a pencil out of my gym bag so he could record my sets. I never went back to him,
And then I met a personal trainer. I put an ad in City Paper, for a trainer, and a guy answered my ad,
It was a guy named Tim Wittman, We met at the Mount Washington Tavern in Baltimore, and chatted about my goals and what he expected, and how we would worked. We clicked. I finally felt like I was heard. I told him my body dysmorphic concerns, my apathetic couch potato habits, and my concerns that my wants had not become needs in terms of being fit. I realized that he was a respected indoor Soccer Player from the Blasts and he was doing this for extra cash.
This guy showed me focus, thinking positive, staying present, and setting visualization goals. It was not what he said, it was his actions and my connection with him. We worked together a few months, His total commitment to fitness, and his enthusiasm was so charismatic, that I stayed focused for a 4 months.
I also worked with the Body for Life Program in the 90's- sent my before and after pictures in. I improved a lot ot because I felt I had a goal, and a community to work with. I looked better, but stopped because of my own ability to set real priorities for myself, and my unwillingness to believe that I count. Now, I sound like a public service announcement.. The truth is I am a lazy fuck.
I am on Twitter, and I am following many committed body builders, and other health practitioners, and I am seeing transformation internally, and much more willingness to do whatever I have to do. I probably will not use personal trainers. I am a loner, a Virgo, a strange dude, love being by myself, so for me a trainer may be a distraction. I am open though. I do know where to find the best.
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