BK Travelogue: September 2013

When I tell people that I'm a group fitness instructor, I know that they imagine a drill sergeant-esqe woman in too much spandex, barking orders with a whistle and stop watch. Thanks for that Jillian Michaels. So, I'm here to set the record straight. I do not own a whistle or stop watch, but I should fess up to my spandex collection.

For the past 7 years, my career of choice has been to motivate and encourage people to reach their fitness goals all while cuing, instructing, counting music and viciously sweating. After going through a chubby phase in my mid-20's, a move to Houston meant that I didn't have to work full-time. What was a girl like me to do? A-type people don't sit around very well. I had recently lost the extra pounds and found that I loved working out. I got certified to teach mat pilates and after getting hired at a gym, it snowballed. I got certified to teach kickbox, step, cycle and weights. Still wasn't enough, so added on aqua fitness and then became a Group Exercise Coordinator, meaning I was responsible for the entire program (we offered 50 classes a week). I would personally teach up to 12 classes a week.

Here's the big difference between what people think I do (whistle/stop watch) and what I really do (fun music and moves choreographed to fit the specific format). I spend several hours each week at home, designing choreography for all of my classes. Yes, even kickbox and cycle, I know what I'm going to do before I enter the group exercise room. I make sure my music is the designated beats per minute (as outlined in my certifications). I figure out how I'm going to build the choreography so that everyone in the class (all 20-35 attendees) can follow it. Sure, the members in the front row won't have any problems, but how do I introduce a "jab, cross, duck, hook, roundhouse kick" to the lady in the back corner who just joined the gym? This is all while being on beat with the music (8-count measure) and "on top of the phrase" an industry term meaning the combination of choreography starts on the 1 beat of the 32-count phrase. Oh yeah, I'm also cuing one thing while my body is doing another. I try to cue on the 5 beat, called the "cue spot". Because the participants have to hear it, understand it, and act on it, so that they are ready for the next 1. And all of this should be done effortlessly and seamlessly as to give the participants a feeling of accomplishment. Clear as mud?

I also must be mindful of the participants' form and give reminders and demonstrate proper form as to make sure they do not hurt themselves (again, while still on beat and within the musical phrase). I encourage members to try this or that to meet their goals, meaning I have to have a general understanding of this or that. Outside of the gym, I try to stay knowledgeable about new trends, popular fads, changing recommendations from industry leaders and keep all of my certifications valid.

I feel horrible for those members who took my first classes back in Houston. I didn't really perfect my method for a couple of years (it takes A LOT of practice). When we next moved to Denver, I had to bring my A-game to every class. Those people were fitness maniacs and woe is the instructor who shows up unprepared or slightly winded due to the altitude. I improved in a hurry because teaching 15 classes a week at 5 different gyms meant I always had to be "on". I don't have the luxury to show up tired or hungry because an instructor has to give 110 percent to make sure that the members are at full intensity. A cake walk it is not.

I thoroughly enjoy the challenges group fitness presents. I will never call someone out. Instead, I try to correct the member without ever putting them in the spotlight. I try to constantly keep veteran members intrigued and make new folks feel like part of the group. I research ways for those with joint problems to still practice the format that they enjoy. I modify exercises and find new ways to do old things.

Some people confuse personal training (1-3 clients per instructor, not set to music or choreographed) with group fitness. I hope next time you catch "Biggest Loser" and Jillian is standing on some unfortunate, overweight man, yelling at him to do "MORE!" that you realize that that is Hollywood's version of personal training and far from the reality of group fitness.

So, now that you know, get out there! Come try a class! Let's sweat together!

The title of this blog is borrowed from one of my favorite kids church song. The next line is, "Down in my heart! Where? Down in my heart! Down in my heart to stay!" I felt like belting it from the rafters during the early months of summer. I was so full of happiness and contentment that it was practically oozing out.

Early in the summer, AnnaB came down with a virus - a little worse than a cold, but nothing too utterly horrible. That is until the doctor put her on a steroid to clear everything up. To make a long story short, I'm now a full-on believer in "roid rage" because my sweet little girl was downright mean.

The cosmos aligned and baby girl was all better, off of the steroid and returned to her (mostly) angelic self. We were able to set up a little weekly routine, which I adored. A half-day of school for her on Tuesdays and Thursdays and I would teach my fitness classes. There would also be duck pond day and grocery shopping day and pool day and "mommy and me" gymnastics day. I kept us busy and that's the point really. I like to be out and about and by association, so does baby girl. We would visit family and friends some days too, filling our time with fun chats and activities. The summertime carefree-ness that reminds me of being kid was palpable. On occasion, I would declare to anyone in earshot, "This is such a wonderful age!" And I meant it.

And then it happened. Just a couple of weeks ago on the cusp of turning 18 months, out of the blue, baby girl suddenly sprouted her own opinion and started telling me, "no!" at most everything. I didn't previously know it, but that happy, short-lived "honeymoon phase" had caught us right between baby-hood and toddler-hood. She's a full-blown toddler now and although she's still game for the grocery store, she's not quite as excited. She thinks she'd rather not wash her hands or have her diaper changed. She'd prefer to play with this and not that. Foods she previously devoured now make her gag. The list of "no" is rapidly growing.

So, when I recently overhead a mom with a 16-month old declare, "Isn't this a wonderful age!" I could only smirk to myself. I thought, "You better enjoy it while it lasts." You know, because I'm so experienced now and know what that poor first-time mom has yet to understand, it's fleeting. Cherish each stage because you never know if the next one will be better or worse. As for me, I'm staying positive that the "terrible twos" are overly hyped. There's always hope, right?