Where do I begin? So many thoughts have poured in over these past few days- months really -
about if/when this day would come. I
guess I’ll begin at the end, and say something I have been avoiding stating –
partially because it is hard to put out there and make official. I am closing a chapter in my life that has
been a huge influence in my personal and professional growth, and really been a
foundation of my identity for the past 28 years… as I have made the decision to
retire from group fitness instruction.
This happens as another set of doors also close: those at
Lifetime Fitness – Six Forks. While
those walls may not have always held up the sturdiest of ceilings (cue the water
buckets), it provided the space for being creative and joyful in a “job”, and
connected me both to myself and others around me. One thing I always loved about working in a
facility like this is that you are “working” in a place where everyone is there
because they want to be, and you provide the means to escape the daily grind,
even if it is just for an hour a week. I
am so grateful that so many people chose to spend that time with me, and am
continuously honored that they shared their energy with me over the eleven
years I taught there.
The road to ending a career in group fitness in this type of
headspace did not come easily, nor overnight.
I can take it back to Freshman Year in college: I started taking “aerobics classes” through
UNC Campus Rec – in the unventilated hollows of Woolen Gym that resembled my
elementary school PE classes. I wanted
to do what those instructors did, and make my own routines to bounce around to. So near the end of second semester, I took
the certification to become an instructor.
I think it was some in-house verification, but nevertheless I took it as
my ticket to be a teacher and prepped all summer for the Fall… where I ended up
teaching 5 classes per week on cement floors in dormitory basements (cue shin
splints). But I was hooked. I auditioned
at other gyms, and on some weeks was teaching up to 11 times per week. Being paid to work out? This is the best gig
ever. On top of this all, I made all of
my own mixes – which in 1991 was not an easy feat. The amount of time I spent pausing and
rewinding to get the perfect transition from my double tape deck is on the
verge of embarrassing. But I am also
pretty proud of what I could make with what I had.
As time rolled on, I gained more confidence and experience, (and
cut back on the number of classes I was teaching), and by my senior year I was
among the first group of instructors to christen the long-awaited Student Rec Center,
or SRC. My world had recently become exposed to the
glory of step aerobics, and this became my bread and butter format for many
years to come.
When I moved to Georgia for grad school in 1994, the very
first thing I did after unpacking was find a place to teach. I landed at the at-the-time place-to-be for
both your fitness and drinking experiences: O’Malley’s. It was really an awesome facility and a
pretty cool bar as well, having that modern warehouse feel to it. Yet it brought the solemn reminder that
staring over and making that good first impression, especially in this field,
is hard. In my very first step class, I not
only tripped off my step (which was a huge wooden box to my credit), but I also
fell off the stage and onto the person in the hard-core, front row spot. Luckily I survived for another day, however
the gym did not stay around that long, and after an emergency meeting on a
Sunday night two years later, they closed the doors. I would experience that one other time in
another club in Athens years later, which makes me especially grateful to have
had this time to transition and say goodbye with the closing at Six Forks.
Upon finishing grad school and becoming a registered
dietitian, my experience as a fitness professional provided me the opportunity
to land my dream job right out of school as an Exercise and Nutrition
Specialist at a local Hospital Wellness Center. This position was created specifically for
me with my skill sets in mind. I taught classes
at the wellness center and in other local gyms as well, where my $15 per class
out-paid my full-time job wage.
Over the next ten years, my careers blossomed so that by
2003 I started my own private practice offering both nutrition counselling and
fitness programming/ personal training services. I was professionally fulfilled and excited to
be doing all that I was doing.
But life got in the way, and I decided to move back to the
Triangle area in 2008. My sister had
been living in the area, and within a few days of moving here we took an RPM
class at her gym, Lifestyle Family Fitness off of Six Forks Road. I went in with the intention on attempting to
start anew and just be a member, but halfway through the class I knew that
wouldn’t be the case. Weeks later I am
in the RPM training and on the schedule a few weeks after that. Cycling became my primary format. An occasional strength or step sub
opportunity popped up here and there, but I had become a lover of creating
journeys through music on the bike and developed my squad of regulars over
time.
Then in 2011 (that date may be wrong – as it seems like it
wasn’t that long ago!), Lifestyle became Lifetime, and I got back to my own
choreography and music choices. I was so
excited for this evolution.
At the same time, my career in the field of eating disorders
was also evolving, which was a stark contrast from hospital based
wellness. Despite loving those previous
jobs, I knew that I had found my calling.
Yet I started to notice that where my nutrition and fitness paths had
merged in the past, they began to diverge and completely divide. In working with so many individuals
struggling with dysfunctional exercise issues in eating disorder treatment, it
was harder to overlap these spaces. I
did instruct some basic mindful movement classes where I worked for the
clients, and tried to help them re-connect with their bodies in a playful and
effective way. I taught the chair
exercise classes just like I did that retirement home years before (but with
some cooler music), and it was just as rewarding.
I began to speak more to exercise issues within the eating
disorder population at regional and national conferences, and really began to mourn
how these pillars were being pulled apart.
So over the past year and a half, I have presented nationally on the
challenges of disordered eating and dysfunctional exercise issues within the
fitness industry, as my lens for these issues has developed. I can also say that this lens has me reflect
on my own fitness career early on very differently. I must honestly say though, that my passion
for this topic didn’t arise from what I was seeing at Six Forks. If anything it was quite the opposite.
When I enter Six Forks I am always in awe. Not because of
the facility and the offerings and equipment that was there, but the people I
would see walking the floor. The
diversity of body sizes, the range of ages, and span of physical capacities,
and how everyone was welcomed and encouraged equally. I want to step away from group fitness with
the fullness of heart, recalling how I played a role in gathering these amazing
diverse people who may never have met otherwise, and providing them the space
to authentically connect through a common goal of having fun and moving their
bodies.
If you told me six months ago I would be typing this, I’d
have called you crazy. However with
recent job changes and new hobbies evolving into new passions (spoiler alert –
more blog posts to come), it seemed the right time. And as much as I do NOT want to admit it, I’m
getting older, and what started as a long overdue summer hiatus has morphed
into finalizing a change my body needs right now. I am not saying that my toe is completely out
of fitness world, but for now I am saying goodbye to sitting on that lead bike
and looking at my class with excitement and gratitude before pressing play.
Thank you to all that have ever danced, lifted, stepped, or
rode with me along this journey. I hope
I have allowed you to feel as strong, important, and connected as much you have
for me. Your beautiful sweaty grimaces
are forever etched in my heart.
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