I want to pull down the curtain between you and fitness trainers.
And, I can do it.
Not because I have a vendetta or hate the industry I set out to make an impact on.
If you’re seeking the truth, I want to tell you the truth. But unless you see behind the curtain, you may never see the truth.
It’s common practice to keep a layer of separation between client and trainer. The purpose is to keep an air of authority around the trainer. He has to show you he solved your problem once and for all. She has to be living the life that you dream of.
They do it by not sharing the reality of their life off-screen.
Few trainers will show you when they eat a burger or admit they’ll feel like getting ice cream, tell themselves they probably shouldn’t because they’re a trainer, then rationalize the urge and eat said ice cream. Even less will show you when they are bloated, tired, and irritable from stress, lack of sleep, and hormone cycles.
The last of them will show you their tearful moments after realizing that staying in peak shape is not a substitute for friends, family, and internally based self-esteem.
It can be a miserable life. It looks like always being in the gym (which seems awesome) but it becuase we’re afraid to be in an empty home.
It looks like always being out drinking shots with others (becuase we have a ton of friends and earned the calories) because we’re unable to sit alone quietly.
It looks like a fantastic life on the surface, but like a fitness addiction, it’s skin-deep and unbalanced.
Meanwhile, you’re shown salads, daily cold plunges, trips down the organic aisle at Whole Foods, and constant working out with perfect lifts with just the right light and angle.
None of it is real.
Trainers are people. People are flawed. Trainers are very flawed.
Many of us have insecurity about not looking the part if we dont have abs or that we will be a phony by sharing that we, too, struggle with living up to unrealistic expectations of a human body.
And who wouldn’t feel bad if they believed being healthy required dieting year-round and never having dessert or a beer because they feel like it? That’s not health; that’s an eating disorder.
The people who preach this are either misleading you by being sensational about the path to physical happiness, or they, themselves, are deluded by this same charade. I’ve trained trainers like this. Some are exhausted from dieting all the time. Some are high energy from all the stimulants they consume to get through a day without eating. Some share their hormone regimen with me but deny they take anything in front of clients.
These trainers are still learning the hardest lesson I know of. Contentment.
Decent trainers will eat burgers, suffer a low-energy day, eat birthday cake, skip a workout when they don’t feel well, struggle with self-image occasionally, and have a healthy amount of body fat that beauty and supplement companies have trained society to hate.
Honest trainers will tell you they don’t have it all figured out. They tell you what they’re doing that’s working vs not working. They’ll share their silly mistakes and how they’re growing because they don’t know it all, and that’s the best thing you can hear from a professional.
I was at the Rogue Invitational last weekend.
I ate BBQ, a lot of BBQ.
I had a beer. I didn’t like it.
I worked out twice at 8 am with friends, then said, “fuck it,” and slept in on the third day.
I didn’t pack meal prep. I didn’t eat beef jerky and rice cakes.
Maybe I put on a little fat, but you can’t tell. But I did have fun, enjoy the competition, and spend time with my friends like a normal human being.
Eat a high-protein diet.
Track your food from time to time.
Drink a lot of water.
Work out in a way that you enjoy.
It’s simple, not easy.
It will always work because it always has.
Just don’t forget to be real and have fun along the way.