For the past few months I have been going to the gym with two coworkers in the morning before work. They are relatively inexperienced when it comes to strength training, so I offered to help them get stronger, lose fat, etc. If not for my guidance they would surely fall prey to the roving gangs of feral Crossfitters that plague gyms across the country. Aside from the fucking ice cream isle at every grocery store, the gym is the one place in the world I feel comfortable and knowledgeable; I am almost obligated to share some of that knowledge with these two soft, gelatinous barbell plebeians.
From time to time I wonder if they even need my assistance. Do they really need me to guard them from a gym's undesirables? As we slide our cards at the front counter, an employee unironically says to us "rise and grind, huh?" as we check in at 9 am. This serves to strengthen my resolve to guide my flock.
Our training sessions have not been without conflict. As with most commercial gyms, this one does not allow personal training from third parties. Despite not receiving any compensation from my coworkers - they cheap af lmao, broke ass bitches - I have had a few of the staff talk to me to make sure nothing illicit is going on. Today is one such day, as I am approached by the gym's assistant manager while my training partners are adorably fumbling with some dumbbells.
"Hi! My name is Assistant Manager! Because I can't mind my own fucking business, I couldn't help but notice that you seem to be leading a workout with these two here?" She has the type of haircut that guarantees she has called the cops on black people using a public pool at least twice in her life.
"I'm leading the workout but we are all doing the same thing and I'm not getting paid." I hope that a harmless lie may abate her curiosity. "These are two at-risk ethnic youth and I am trying to prepare them for the Big Math Exam in Act 3." She looks at my two white coworkers, then back to me.
"Interesting. Are you White Savior certified?"
I motion to my perfectly even, ebony skin. "Yes." She pauses, so I reassure her. "I... long live Trump."
Her eyes pick up on my indignation at the parade of questions. "Oh, I don't mean to be a pain. It's just gym policy that any personal training must be done through one of our many certified personal trainers." A few squat racks down I see one of her personal trainers with a client. He is currently wearing one of those dorky Bane breathing masks and breaking his client's back. His screams are ignored by the assistant manager.
"Where are they certified, if you don't mind me asking? I may be interested in personal training services in the future." A sly jest; I know these dipshits have useless certifications and little experience. I'm hesitant to ask them for a spot, let alone help designing a training program.
She beams with pride. "A little bit all over the place. Donovan, the guy over there, trained with turn of the century circus strongmen and leaped forward 100 years in time for reasons unknown, Conner was raised by wolves and is non verbal, Pamela is just super cute so we let her work here, and Megan has certifications in Excel, PowerPoint, and Cinnamon Toast Crunch."
"That last one was cereal."
"Yes, we are serious about only hiring the best. The policy is for safety reasons, I'm sure you understand."
"Your staff is currently running a no holds barred cage match near the yoga area."
"Battles to the death are excellent for developing cardiovascular endurance and killer instinct. Also, I hate to bring this up, but you need to have the proper footwear when inside the weight room."
I look down to see that I am barefoot. "What? I had shoes on when I walked in here. Where did-"
She pulls my Chuck Taylors from behind my ears. "Is this your card? Wait, fuck! I meant are these your shoes? All of our staff are trained street level magicians." Satisfied with our nonsensical back and forth, she leaves me to my wards so that we may begin our training in earnest.
My goal is for my coworkers to eventually have the tools, knowledge, and confidence to design their own training programs in the future. This should be everyone's goal, as personal trainers are useful to begin one's training, but should not be relied upon to maintain one's training. Unless you want to see some sick ass magic tricks, that shit was wild.
