Last winter took its toll on me. I was commuting 70 miles a day to work, so on the snowiest of days I had to mentally prepare for what was often a five-plus-hour drive of spinouts and blizzard conditions.
Physically, I felt defeated. I had gone from intensely training for a half marathon in the late fall to sitting on my couch for days on end. The only marathons I was participating in were Law & Order reruns. I rationalized my inactivity by convincing myself that I was substituting gym visits with shoveling sessions. What I was shoveling was a lot of "comfort" food into my mouth. It finally hit me just how much when I realized that I had polished off two 2 pound bags of M&Ms over the course of a few months (for those of you wondering, that's approximately 2,000 pieces of candy, or more than 71 servings). There was nothing at all comforting about this, nor was the number when I stepped onto the scale -- it read 10 pounds heavier than Christmas time.
Depressed and really disgusted with myself, I did the opposite of what I should have. I didn't hit the gym, I started to feel really sorry for myself and retreated even further away. It was now mid-April, the snowbanks were finally melting, but I had piled on almost another 5 pounds.
As I feverishly engaged in my new favorite "activity" – trolling Facebook and clicking likes – I came across a post on a childhood friend's wall that caught my interest. Dana wrote: "Think I just finally recovered from that 10am ass whooping today!! Great Class Great Teamwork. Come join us for bootcamp, it's life changing!"
His post triggered something within me and I responded, "I want in." Within seconds, Glen Rodrigues, the boot-camp instructor, responded with a message asking me to inbox him for details. I didand arranged to start the following Sunday. I felt I could not turn back.
He added me to a private Facebook group called “Fit Life: Team Discipline” – a spin-off of his personal-training business, Disciplined Fitness. I spent the days leading up to my first camp filled with anxiety while looking at pictures Glen, who specializes in body-building-competition prep, had posted. While I had always considered myself to be pretty athletic prior to this winter blues-induced funk, I found myself feeling intimidated by some of the hard bodies and endurance displayed by the participants showcased.
As I nervously arrived at the gym, a no-frills spot that sits atop an auto garage on Lynn's Summer Street, on that fateful Sunday morning and I met someone who definitely wasn't in any of the photos I saw.
As I nervously arrived at the gym, a no-frills spot that sits atop an auto garage on Lynn's Summer Street, on that fateful Sunday morning and I met someone who definitely wasn't in any of the photos I saw.
An extremely overweight woman was struggling to climb the flight of stairs. She was out of breath,sweating, and had not yet even reached the gymentrance. In addition to carrying a cane to assist her in walking, the woman also carried something else that immediately struck me: an amazing attitude and smile that accompanied it. She completely disarmed me and dissipated my anxiety by encouraging me to “go around [her] or possibly suffer the consequences if [she] fell and landed on [me].” I chose the latterjust so we could walk through the door together.
Kathleen Doucet, 55, had begun working out with Glen a little over a month earlier. The Lynn residentand nine of her coworkers at Centerboard had engaged the trainer to lead them through a 10-week weight-loss contest. Like me, she was nervous going into the gym for the first time and did not know what to expect. Kathleen pictured a Jane Fonda-style workout, but soon realized that the yoga mat she brought was not going to be very useful. Uponentering the gym for the first time, she saw free weights, heavy punching bags, weight sleds and other unfamiliar, unwelcoming contraptions. She also spotted a giant black box that was used for step ups, but Kathleen just wanted to stay close to it in case she needed to sit down.
Glen knew working with this group, and particularly with Kathleen, was going to be challenging but he didn’t shy away from taking it on. “I knew that I’d have to modify routines to accommodate the different levels everyone was at,” he shared. “It was getting the group through the door that was the biggest challenge. And that’s all in the head – that can be harder to overcome than the physical stuff.”
At the time she joined, Kathleen estimates that she was walking only about 300 steps a day. She previously had joined a local gym chain, but never made much of an effort because she wasn’t motivated. She also never felt comfortable in a gym setting – in fact, there weren’t many places outside of home that she felt comfortable both from a physical and mental perspective. There were the physical ailments that impeded her mobility, but also environmental barriers that made it difficult to maneuver in public places. For instance, going to the movies or to a restaurant were often not possibilities because the arms on chairs impeded Kathleen’s ability to sit down. Then, there were reactions from other people. There were few “no judgement zones” in Kathleen’s travels. As a result, there were few places she went willingly.
Sadly, Kathleen, and her family for the most part, had grown to accept her life as it was. Glen, however, didn’t have the same outlook for Kathleen as she had for herself. He began to work with her and identified modified versions of exercises that she could handle – warm-up jogs became walking laps, straight arm planks traditionally done on the floor were shifted to against the wall, squats and lunges were just small dips of the knees, and when Kathleen needed to sit on the black box Glen allowed it, but never for too long.
“Glen has an amazing skill to be able to see us differently than we view ourselves,” Kathleen said. “He believed that I could accomplish things that I never dreamed possible. No one ever had that confidence in me. I certainly never had it in myself. I am gaining it – Glen is helping to instill it in me.”
Kathleen doubted that she would last the duration of the 10-week contest. She not only lasted, but she and one of her coworkers from the original contest continue to attend Glen’s boot camp sessions twice a week. There are still days when she doesn’t think she can push herself any further, but that’s where Glen’s encouragement and the support from other camp participants play a significant role. Giving up or letting her “Team Discipline” comrades down is not an option she’ll consider. She has fully embraced the compassionate environment and team mentalityof “we start each exercise as a group and finish each as a group” regardless of the varied levels of fitness from each participant. Kathleen has found a comfort zone and a sense of belonging in an environment that is often seen as intimidating.
She has lost about 35 pounds since teaming up with Glen in February, but what Kathleen has lost most of cannot be measured on a scale – gone is the shame, the lack of confidence and the feeling of hopelessness.
Her journey up that flight of stairs is much less painful these days and the cane has been gone for two months. Last week I watched as Kathleenpushed a sled bearing 175 pounds of steel plates the entire length of the gym and back. She also did a three-minute-long plank exercise, on the floor. The class members, who have formed strong bonds and friendships, beamed as they cheered her along. She’s been just as much of an inspiration in their journeys as they have been in hers.
When asked to share his thoughts on Kathleen’s progress to date, Glen couldn’t say much. He didn’t need to, because his breaking down into tears said so much more. Kathleen, also teary-eyed, looked toward him and said, “You gave me my life back, and a life back to my husband and to my kids. I know I have a future now, I’m making plans and see that anything is possible; and you know…we’ve just scratched the surface of our journey.”
One might wonder why Kathleen would want to share her personal struggles this publicly, but she summed it up so perfectly.
“Nobody should have to do this alone. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get someone else who needs help through the door. I’ll sweat with them, hold their hand, and be there for them like others have done for me. If by sharing my story I can help just one person, it’s worth it,” she said.
Kathleen may not realize it, but she’s already hit hergoal of helping just one person get through that door. Me. And I couldn’t be more grateful.
Comments
Post a Comment