Worth the Wait

Today was filled with lots of bright spots and hopeful moments.

For starters, I received a phone call from the gym where I teach, and was offered a position as a personal trainer and the opportunity to develop several strong fitness programs. Of course, I knew this was coming...I passed my personal training certification several months ago and have been hanging out in the training pipeline for a little while while the gym was restructuring, establishing a new facility, and transitioning the personal training program to a new coordinator in Mama K's absence.

The timing of this offer could not have been more perfect. There were many moments, especially during the extremely dicey periods of my recovery, that I had seriously questioned my ability to be a trainer. I can remember a few sessions with both LA and Dr. Joe during which I had cried and cried...feeling as though the intense studying and exam preparation had been a waste; that I did not deserve the opportunity to guide others towards their fitness goals. However, I kept reminding myself that:

1. I have never, would never, encourage any client of mine (or individual in my classes, for that matter) to treat their bodies as I have treated mine.

2. Once I found myself firmly planted on the other side of an eating disorder, I would possess a unique perspective on health, fitness, and training that can only be gained as a result of hindsight and experience.

Whenever I doubted my place in the industry, I reminded myself of those two points. Deep down, despite my own battles, I've always known I will one day be a good trainer to others.

While I do not consider myself fully recovered from my eating disorder, I do feel as though my confidence in training others has been restored. I once again feel as though I do deserve the opportunity to share my passion for the field and knowledge of exercise physiology with others. Do I recognize the fact that being fully recovered would be the ideal state in which to accept a training position? Yes. But I also feel as though I may have reached a stable enough place in this process to begin to trust my knowledge and instincts again. More importantly, my confidence- both in myself and my ability to succeed- has been restored slowly over the last several months.

When I took the exam tied to my personal training certification five months ago, I was not in a good place. I had studied my ass off, spent hours each night learning medical terminology, physiology, anatomy, and physics. I wanted to be a trainer because I knew I could. I knew I was smart enough to master the content, and had enough of an athletic background to apply it. Back then, it was strictly about knowledge. Facts. Diagrams. Formulas. Numbers. The perfect equations to produce any results a client could ever ask for.

I passed my personal training exam (mind you- one of the most in-depth and difficult personal training exams out there) on my twenty-eighth birthday, after The Mr. had convinced me that I had studied enough and had what it took to pass the damn thing. I had just arrived home from an out-of-state personal training workshop the day before, had barely eaten, and purged four times the day of the exam. I remember it all distinctly. I also weighed almost twenty pounds lighter than what I do now, and, despite filling my brain to the brim with extensive knowledge about muscles, the cardiac cycle, and bone structure...I was literally unable to apply a single piece of it to my own life. Somehow, brain-starved and in denial about the deteriorating state of my own body, I passed the exam with flying colors. I called Mama K in tears, in complete disbelief over the fact that I had singlehandedly- with very little science background and preparation- passed one of the most difficult certifications in the industry.

I didn't tell her how utterly shocked I was that I was able to pass the exam given how sick I was becoming. I wouldn't go to her for help until almost two months later. I was so proud to have passed the exam, but also felt like a complete fraud. And when my certification arrived in the mail several days later, I clung to it with intense pride, but also shoved it in between two books on my shelf, ashamed to think that I was was living a life so counterintuitive to what I had just spent months learning.

I had the textbook knowledge. I could answer any question about heart rate, caloric burn, exercise physiology. I could name all of the major muscles of the body, could tell you the difference between motions in the saggital and transverse planes, and could calculate an individual's BMI without thinking twice. But what I didn't have was confidence, a belief in the material I had mastered, or the sense of self-worth to apply it all to my own training and life.

Now I do.

Being offered a personal training position at my gym seems relatively insignificant, given the fact that 1. I knew it was enventually coming, and 2. fitness is not currently my full-time job and/or the source of the majority of my monthly income. However, to me, taking this step has lifted my spirits, reminded me that it will soon be time to give back, and that I now  have unique insight (whether I choose to share it with clients or not) that not many other trainers possess.

I cannot wait to see where this path takes me. I earned the privilege of training others months ago when I passed my training exam; but now I feel as though I have developed the strength to actually pursue it and succeed at it. This will be, when my own therapy and recovery is all said and done, the outlet through which I give back, share my love of physical activity, and help others love their bodies for the strength and function they provide.

Being offered a spot on the personal training team at my gym was well worth the wait.

This is one accomplishment I don't mind if others don't see or acknowledge; it is truly for me. Sure, there will be people in my life (just as there were several months ago) who do not think I should work with clients. There will be people who will downplay my successes or tell me I should permanently step away from the fitness industry. But those who know me best know that I:  1. have changed dramatically as a result of this eating disorder; 2. genuinely love physical activity, training, and (at times) competition and want to share it with others; and 3. would never, ever advise others to treat their bodies in the same way I have (my eating disorder is and was, clearly, a manifestation of self-destruction and anger, and not at all indicative of my philosophy on exercise and training).

I cling to my treatment team and will continue to do so until I feel confident enough to gradually step away from them and back into this new post-treatment life of mine. As mentioned before, this opportunity has come along a little sooner than I would have liked, but it is also something I have waited for and worked towards...now is not the time to turn my back on it. If anything, it has motivated me to work harder, and provided me with yet another tangible reason to permanently heal.

I'm proud of myself, hopeful, and confident again. It has been a long time since I've been able to say that. I can't wait to get started...and am thankful to those who believe in me and share my happiness.

In other news...I had sweet potato fries this evening while out to dinner with The Mr. to celebrate. No fried foods...remember that rule? I broke it. Overcoming an eating disorder is one of few situations in which breaking the "rules" is not only allowed, but encouraged.

And the choice to eat (and enjoy them!) was not even the result of an LA challenge.

Ha! On a roll...