Ch-ch-ch-changes

So I realized I never really went into how I turned my entire career upside down and went into personal training. I don’t even really know if I mentioned I was going to do it (might have mentioned it here). I just stopped posting and then I came back and was like, “Blah, blah, quit my job, yadda yadda, and at the gym… .” So here’s the story…

I had been working with a trainer at my gym downtown, and I kept complaining about how tired I always was and how much I hated my job (my soul felt it was being sucked out by the industrial strength vacuums my company sold). Slowly that turned into me asking my trainer about his certifications and how everyone at the gym had gotten into training. Finally, he just said, “Why don’t you just get certified?” and it just all became so clear. He suggested that I go through ISSA, which turned out to be genius, because it’s accredited by the US Department of Education, meaning that my nice office job would pay for it since it counted as continuing education!

Anyway, I planned to get certified, save up a little more money, and then transition into the new job. Well, only problem was that I hated my job SO much that it was affecting the rest of my life. I was so apathetic that I had no motivation to do anything. Except study, that is. Because I knew that the sooner I could get certified, the sooner I could get OUT of a job I knew in my heart was all wrong for me. So I studied nonstop for two months — on the train, after work, all weekend long. I was just finishing the program when I decided that the day had come to put in my two-weeks notice. So I did, and on my last day of work, I found out I had passed my exam and had become a certified personal trainer. Whew.

Then I took a month off to just enjoy a Chicago summer. I read, I wrote, I tanned (yeah, yeah, I KNOW), I slept. I loved it, but I was ready to get back to work because I was getting restless (my Dad has told me before that he always thought I had ADHD), and, oh right, I was running out of moo-lah. So I decided I needed to start applying to gyms, but I already knew where I wanted to work. I interviewed at a few places, but I had always intended to work at the gym where I had originally trained as a client. I walked in and asked for the fitness director, and as soon as he saw me, he said, “Well, look who it is!” He had me fill out and application and set up a practical interview on the spot. I knew I was going to like this job!

Fast forward to two months later, and I’m slowly building up a client base and loving this job so much more than anything I’ve ever done. The days are long, and right now the pay is crappy, but I have so much more energy, and I’m so much more positive than I’ve been in quite some time. It was a change to go from working in a sedate office environment with mostly females to a loud gym with almost all dudes who say plenty of things that the feminist in me says I should be reporting to HR. (Kidding. Sort of.) But I really love everything about it. Work doesn’t always feel like work, and exercising and talking to people are part of my job description. And I adore my coworkers, because in this job, it’s not weird to be friends with the people you see most of the day. OH, and did I mention I get to wear sweats and spandex and running shoes all day? Plus, believe it or not, I actually feel like I’m using my degree more than I did before. I’ve always wanted to use my English and Women’s Studies majors to do something with women’s health/fitness, focusing especially on body image. This job is like the perfect case study for that! And I get to help people get healthy and feel better about themselves. And liking my job this much has motivated me even more to work on the other half of my dream — writing. So, as I mentioned before, everything in my life might not be perfect right now, but I feel like I’m finally on the right track.

Big or small, what’s something you’ve changed in your life lately?

Happy Now?

Despite the fact that I have next to zero money. Despite the fact that I just experienced the first mini-heartbreak of my adult life. Despite the fact that Michigan football sucks this year. Despite the fact that I’m at work more than I’m at home. Despite the fact that I am still not a size 4 again like I was senior year. Despite the fact that Chicago has officially gone into winter mode. Despite the fact that I’ve got a million works in progress, but not one actual published piece of writing. Despite the fact that I don’t have everything figured out just yet.

Despite all of this, I am happy. I am more OK with the way my life is going than I have been in a long time. My head is a bit clearer, and I know where I want to go. Part of the fun of the next few years is going to be figuring out how I’ll get there. I’m more ready for this challenge than I have been in quite some time. I’m not going to come right out and say that everything is going to be great this time around, because I’ve done that before, and I’ve been wrong. But I do feel that something is different this time. I took a risk by quitting my nice, safe office job to start over as a trainer and a writer, and it’s scary, but that fear has helped me discover that I’m stronger than I ever thought I was. I started dating again, and for the first time I got tiny little cracks both in my heart and in my pride, but I learned that I still have enough glue to patch myself back up and survive. I’m enjoying life more than I have in a few years, despite the insecurity and the uncertainty, because I’ve realized that I’m making conscious choices to change the direction in which I’m headed.

I’ve made the mistake in the past of assuming that because one thing improves in my life that the whole of it will. But not this time. This time, I realize that I have to decide to be happy. That even though I am still going to have days where I don’t want to get out of bed, that even though I will still feel sometimes that nothing is going my way, I will always have the choice to look on the bright side. That I can turn it all around just by willing myself to be the optimist I was born to be.

So that’s it. I’m going to be happy.

(Watch your back, Tony Robbins. I’m gunning for your job.)

Everytime We Touch

Tonight, right before she went to bed, I asked my roommate for a hug.

That sounded strange, didn’t it? The thing is, I’m realizing more and more that one of the biggest things I miss about college and being 45 minutes away from family is the physical human contact. In high school and college, I was super affectionate with my friends and I took it completely for granted. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I’ve become a little hardened from living in the city or because I have this notion that adults just don’t hug willy-nilly whoever, but now hugging and touching the people I love is not part of my daily life.

I realized that tonight as I (sheepishly) asked my roommate, who is also one of my best friends, for a hug and she said, “Of course! Are you OK?” While I appreciated the hug and her concern, it dawned on me that when needing a hug only indicates that someone is hurting, there’s a problem.

The thing is, I come from a pretty touchy-feely family and adore human contact. But tonight, not only was I appalled that I felt silly for asking for a hug from one of my best friends, but I was shocked that I couldn’t recall the last embrace I’d had. I ran into a friend on the street on my way to the gym downtown a while ago and when we parted ways, I gave her the biggest hug ever. And before then it may have been when I saw friends at a bar for St. Patty’s. And before that it was when my sister visited in mid-February. Guys, I’m averaging less than one hug per week. Sad, isn’t it?

Anyway, I think maybe I should try to change this. Maybe that’s part of why I’ve really felt down and not quite myself in Chicago yet. Not only am I losing touch with who I am, but I’m losing touch in general in a very literal way. In fact, hugging has become such a rarity that I’ve occasionally come close to bursting into tears from a quick squeeze from a good friend. (crazy woman alert) I’ve never been excessively emotional, but this little act overwhelms me, like someone is throwing me a life preserver and reminding me of who I am and that people are pretty wonderful. You didn’t know the topic of hugging could be so philosophical, did you?

As silly as it might seem, I may have to start requesting hugs from my friends. I have plenty of people that I know here, so that’s not the issue. It’s that I shy away and remain aloof when everyone is hugging in big groups. And on top of that, I forgot how integral it is to who I am as a person and to my satisfaction with life. Hugs should be natural, yes, but I think I’m out of practice, so I’ll just have to ask. I read a study somewhere (correct me if I’m wrong) that humans need something like seven hugs per day to maintain a happy lifestyle. So maybe I should make that my number one goal for the month of April (or start now so I can stop being a Debbie Downer ASAP)– get a hug everyday and work my way up from there.

What do you guys think? How important is physical contact and hugging to you and your happiness quotient?