Back
when I was in high-school, I took a class that involved a weekend
practicum in the role of an outdoor camp counselor. There were a few
typical rules asked of us in this position: Don't flash your cellphone
or other technology around, don't swear in front of the kids, etc. One
rule resonated as being particularly important to me, though.
"Girls,
please no Lulu's or yoga pants. Boys, don't wear beaters. We want the
kids attending camp to be motivated to do the things you're teaching
them, not to aspire to look like you."
"You kids go canoeing while I stand here looking fabuloussssss!"
This
was one of my earliest impressions that paved my philosophy as I became
a professional with health and fitness. I heavily emphasize ability and
performance over aesthetic regardless if I'm teaching a fitness class
or rehabing a client. I find a much greater sense of achievement when my
clients tell me they were able to run without pain that week than I do
when they tell me they dropped a waist size.
Don't
get me wrong. I'm not knocking the importance of developing healthy
body image and allowing people to feel beautiful. I'm just not the best
person for that job. As the "tiny" kid while I grew up, I quickly came
to the terms with the fact that I'd never be the large, flashy
muscle-dude in the magazines, but would always find solace in my ability
to outrun my peers. For this reason, I find a particular speciality
when it comes to training and coaching young people in their confidence
in physical capability. Even more fulfillment comes when I'm able to
guide someone to a physical achievement that they always assumed was out
of their reach, such as introducing a previous non-athlete to success
as a runner.
Pictured: A lot of runners who had never done a sport one year ago.
Training
ability and function, I find, will leave an individual with a much more
sustainable confidence and sense of identity than simply training
towards a certain aesthetic. Especially when considering the toxic
ideals instilled by modern media, training for an appearance involves a
very different type of anxiety and mental coaching that I can't call
myself experienced with. In fact, when asked on whether I still do
personal training on the side with my rehab business, my answer is
usually "no". With the exception of youth and sports-specific training
(mostly speed and sprinting), I don't have a particular love for that
kind of work these days. There are plenty enough workers who can focus
on the aesthetic or coach someone in believing in their body image, but
I'll use my time the way that I use it best.
Focus on what you can do rather than how you look while doing it.