Smiley Floor Trainers
I was working my legs in the gym today…hard.
My music was groovin’, I was focused, in the moment, total concentration.
…and then it happened.
The smiley floor trainer stopped me in my tracks. “Excuse me, but…” Apparently my form was all ‘wrong’ and he wants to talk about it. Like break down the exercise and what muscles I’m to be focused on. Like have a conversation about it. You see, in my box jumps, I was landing on my heels when, technically, I should have been landing mid-foot. FYI, the box that I was jumping onto was waist-high!
Look. I get if I’m doing myself harm he has every right to interrupt my workout. I really do. I also get trying to pick up a new client. Or even that he’s probably so bored he’s looking for *any* excuse to chat someone up. Been there.
But trust me on this one: I kinda know what I’m doing. It wasn’t as if my spine was rounded in a heavy deadlift. My knees don’t bother me, my hips are in place, I don’t have shoulder impingement or low-back problems…FOR A REASON: I studied this stuff, too! But I don’t share with anyone at my gym that I’m a trainer. That’s like losing anonymity.
Finding my motivation for the rest of the workout wasn’t easy. I lost my train of thought, my mantra gone, my focus blurred.
In the gym, I’m no Chatty Cathy. I don’t go to the gym to make friends. It’s not social hour. I’m not there to analyze whether my heels or mid-foot are landing first. I’m there to work. Interrupt me when my spine is rounded in a heavy deadlift. Or if I’m clearly there to cruise the gym.
Otherwise, leave me alone.