Having graduated with a degree in English, I wasn’t exactly sure what I was supposed to do with my career. I basically spent my college years reading and talking about literature. The scope of my classes was a little more in depth than that, but it’s safe to say no practical job skills were involved. Not like with engineering or nursing.

I helped my husband run a mortgage company until the real estate market topped out. At that point we saw the industry floor falling to oblivion one tile at a time, so we both knew a different career was in our stars. 

That’s when I found teaching. I spent a semester taking classroom management courses to get my feet wet and meet state requirements. Upon being hired at a charter middle school, the only classroom experience I had was spending a few days observing at an at-risk high school.

I figured after that experience, running my own classroom of middle school students would be a breeze. But, just like you see in all the heroic teacher movies, I was given a group of students who likely didn’t make it to eighth grade because of work ethic, but because having a full beard in elementary school wasn’t in fashion.

By the third week of school, I was cursing those classroom management courses and begging to be the quiet lady in the back of the at-risk Language Arts class. The one who didn’t have to do anything but write notes and go home to think about how I would have done things differently.

I remember walking into my mentor’s classroom one afternoon to talk about my troubled students. Out of nowhere (okay, it came from somewhere) I burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears. It wasn’t a little teardrop and a sniffle. It was a full-force snot fest that turned into a confessional about all things wrong in Mrs. Davis’s world.

She somehow managed to shut me up before I incriminated myself by admitting stupid things I did as a teenager. At that moment, I realized how alone I was in my job.

I spent eight hours a day cycling 150 students in and out of those seats by myself. It was up to me to figure it out and no one was going to stand behind me and correct my mistakes or pacify me when I felt overwhelmed.

Obviously I survived unscathed and still get tickled when my former students hunt me down online and send me emails. I only remember a few of my teachers from when I was a kid, likely because we moved so often. So for them to actually think about me and want to know what I’m up to… it means a lot.

I liken how I felt that first semester as a teacher to how many of you feel in the gym. You may have signed up for the gym recently or dusted off your old membership card, ready to give it a whirl. I know we are nearly one month into the New Year and well on our way to making those resolutions we made earlier in the year a success. That gym pass has been used so often that you have your membership ID  memorized.

Okay, that’s a lie. I read Facebook. I see many posts claiming that you  are starting suchandsuch tomorrow or that you will join a gym soon.

Kudos to you who have done it. Who have embarked on that wild journey of resolution seeking and finding. But to those of you who are still saying, “Some day,” I think I know what’s stopping you from moving forward.

So many of us fitness persons forget that we haven’t always been so smart or knowledgeable or confident. We forget that first time we wandered into the gym and picked up a barbell that was far too heavy. We forget what happened next. That we set the barbell back down and headed to the cardio equipment. It was easier to figure out. For the most part.

We can blog on and on about form correction, program design, and the right range of motion. We can write high and mighty posts about how pointless it is to exercise incorrectly, and if you do you should get out of the gym.

But that’s not really useful to those of you just starting out.  Reflecting back, most of what I read when I was starting out wasn’t very useful, though it seemed so at the time.

What’s the point of squatting deep if I don’t even know whether I’m ready to squat? Why should I worry about touching the barbell to my chest on my bench press if I can’t do a pushup?

Those are questions I should have asked in hindsight. But who knew that they mattered?

If you are still struggling to take those initial steps into a gym, as you stand at the front entrance, think about why you want to be there. Then think about whether your plan will help you meet your goal.

If you have no clue how to answer those questions, stay away from the weight room for a while. Really.  I know that sounds counter intuitive to everything I write about on this site. But I stood in that very spot with those very same insecurities. That same feeling of self-loathing. Okay, maybe I was a little harder on myself than most.

I encourage you to introduce exercise to your life in small steps. One of the best things you can do right now when you join the gym is get into classes. Get an understanding of how exercise feels, how programs work, and how to move weights. Learn what muscles work when and that exercise effects how you feel. Take a variety of classes, but go consistently.

I started back in the gym by taking Body Pump and yoga. I went to each twice a week without fail. After that, I felt confident moving into the weight room because I had been doing lifts in class. If I bypassed those classes and went straight for the weights, I would have quit two weeks in. I know I would have.

It’s that pack mentality. Having the leader to guide you through and the various levels of attendees along side with you. It’s encouraging to show up and find someone brand new just like you, a few people who have made it through the first week, and seasoned veterans who know the class well enough to fill in for the instructor if she is absent.

When your face is recognized and your name is known. When someone calls if you don’t show up or brings you a card for your birthday. Those are the moments that help you realize why you are doing this.

Who knows? You may love the classes so much that you never venture out into the weight room. A selfish part of me hopes this doesn’t happen. But I think as a fitness professional I also must realize that not everyone has a goal of deadlifting double her bodyweight.

If you are still reluctant to start your resolutions, then do me a favor and sign up for a class. Just one. It can be at the gym, in the park, at a local senior center. Wherever it is, sign up and go.

The instructor expects you to be there. She has a spot just waiting for you to fill it. When you get there, introduce yourself to the other attendees. You will find they are the most welcoming bunch on the block. Far more welcoming than the jerks on the gym floor with their headphones and grunts (Hey, guilty as charged).

And those are the people who will hold you accountable. Pretty soon someone new will show up and you will be old. The tables will turn and you will know exactly what it’s like to be in her shoes. Then you can hold her accountable, too.

Love,

Kellie