Boy, do I have some Tales to Tell...
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
 
As of this past Sunday, Faustus of www.searchforlove.blogspot.com is officially a fitness instructor.  I remember when he was someone who contacted me via this blog to tell me that he enjoyed my stories about the gym.  He decided to come take my step class, which is where we first met.  I am proud to be able to help nurture his goal of fitness instruction.

Talking to him lately has brought back memories of my enthusiasm when I was a new instructor.  I remember brimming with nervous energy.  Would they like my class?  Would they find it a good workout?  Would they like me?  Will they come back?  I remember practicing my routine for my first audition to teach step class.  I remember the cute member coming into the dimly-lit studio to say that he has been watching me practice and "knows" that I will be perfect for the job.  I remember having to teach a slide class instead because they needed an emergency sub.  I still run into one of the three ladies that took that first class of mine.  Years later, she told me that she was a bit perturbed to see a sub for the class but was quite pleased afterwards.  She doesn't take classes anymore but said she would come back to take my class if it wasn't so damn crowded.

Eight years later, I am still teaching classes.  I do love it.  It tires me out, though.  I enjoy smaller classes where the people who come are enthusiastic.  I hate the drama of a large class - the jockeying for placement in the class, the person who insists that they can do more than they should be doing, the pregnant woman who looks like she is in her FOURTH trimester.  It all weighs heavily on my mind and grinds away at my psyche.  I am exhausted at the end of class.  No matter how much I promise myself that I will only teach and not do the step class, it never stops me from putting 110% into it.  I try to say that at least I get some cardio.

So, Faustus, CONGRATULATIONS!!!!  Enjoy it as much as you can.  At least we're not stuck behind a desk in a cubicle.  Get your cardio in.  Try to avoid becoming as jaded as me.  Remember Danskin Supplex shorts in red with the 5" inseam.  Call me if you need advice.  Or if you just want to bitch about the woman in the front row.  Later.

 
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Eating up the City before it eats me up. I'm a freelance cook who spends his free time working out, cooking for "my man", and wondering why the Right is so concerned about my bedroom.

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