The REAL dog days.

According to Wikipedia, "The Romans referred to the dog days as diēs caniculārēs and associated the hot weather with the star Sirius. They considered Sirius to be the "Dog Star" because it is the brightest star in the constellation Canis Major (Large Dog)."

For me, the real 'dog days' of summer are those days at the end of the season when camp is over for my daughter and school has yet to be begin.  I always jokingly refer to these days as 'camp mommy,' but in truth, there's nothing fun about these days for either mother or daughter.  The type A moms may scoff at me but it's true -- it's very difficult to keep my daughter entertained, especially when she's got several different diagnoseses that make her 'different' from other kids.  And I'm not going to lie: typical 'camp mommy' activities like going to a theme park (or any park or pool for that matter) suddenly become that much more difficult.  And mommy gets her sanity from the GYM.  And gym classes.   Mommy cannot be at the gym getting her sanity on and simultaneously entertaining mini-me.

Don't get me wrong: it's not like I haven't tried.  Some kids do well in gym babysitting, just not mine.  Social 'disabilities' such as Aspergers Syndrome make it very hard for my child to function in gym babysitting on a crowded day.  When mommy just wants to take that 30 minutes of spin class or do 'just five more crunches,' in the back of my mind I'm waiting for that page: "Attention, staff...there's a situation in babysitting...can the mother of the child-to-blame please come to babysitting?"  And I have to put my daughter in babysitting during those daytime hours when I have clients scheduled - there's NO getting around the fact that clients come first.  So any additional time I get at the gym is like a gift from the summertime gods.

Oh, Dog Days.

So what's a mom to do?  Besides grovel at the feet of my adoring husband who graciously allows me to bolt out the door like a guilty person frees a prison the moment he arrives home no matter how miserable the work day, I mean?  What any woman would do for sanity's sake: shop, of course!  And yes, I've purchased shoes, and costume jewelery too, but here's what I'm super giddy about: MY NEW TOYS!  "Which new toys," you may ask?

Unfortunately for my said adoring husband, time at home allows me to catch up on TV time, which gives me nothing but "ideas."  But hey, they're "Healthy ideas from which the entire family can benefit," so the purchases are for the 'greater good,' right?  And far more practical (if not less adorable) than my new wedge sneakers from Steve Madden.  But I loooove my new toys.  SWOON.  Reviews soon to follow.  And soon my daughter will know the summer joys of making mango chips as opposed to baking cookies on a hot summer camp mommy day. 

WOOF.

I Don't Run And Now I Don't Sleep.

It might seem like being a personal trainer is a great gig.  A no-brainer for fitness nuts.  Step 1: Learn Exercise.  Step 2: Teach Exercise.  Step 3: Make money doing something fun that you love.  Not so fast there, Chief.

Let's not even get into the whole certification process, as that's an entirely separate stressor.  Getting certified is a lot of studying and a lot of excruciating, hard work.  And if it's been...wow...almost 20 years since you've studied for a test and you've already got a part time job and a kid with special needs, well...best of luck to ya, kid. 

No, I don't sleep because now I have a whole new level of stress to concern myself with: I now have the responsibility of other people's health and wellness to think about every time I meet with a client.  Clients put their trust in me and I take this responsibility very seriously.  If you don't think that's enough to keep this perfectionist up at night, you don't know this perfectionist very well.  

It's not enough to have a stable full of workouts that I can use on each client.  Every client has different goals, different abilities and different needs.  Each client is an individual with their unique set of circumstances and dreams.  So each workout needs to be customized to fit their objectives without causing any injury.  When you can't find me at the gym, after I've accomplished everything else I need to for the day (and sometimes when I have not,) you will find me planning each workout for each client in advance.  This girl ain't winging it.  Not by a long shot.

Then there's the whole aspect of obtaining clients, an aspect of personal training that I was far less prepared for after obtaining my certification.  Because in order to be certified by the American Council on Exercise you need to know how to assess a client, you need to know the many aspects of training a client, you need to know exercise science, nutrition, emergency procedures, special populations, CPR - to name a few! - but the certification process puts very little weight in being a salesperson.  That is something you need to learn more or less on your own.  And if you love people, and you love exercise, and you want to make a living doing what you love, you better learn fast.  Because there are lots of other trainers who would be more than happy to work with all the people with whom you'd like to work.  And they've been selling themselves for a lot longer.  So get with the program, or get lost in the shuffle.  But don't be too aggressive.  Be just aggressive enough.  Whatever that means.  I just want to build confidence and build muscles.  That's why I got into this in the first place: to bring to other people the joy that fitness brings to me. 

But now I toss and turn.  Far more than I ever did when I was studying.  I dream about my clients.  I dream about working with NEW clients.  I dream about avocados.  (Thanks, Subway commercials.)  And this is if I ever achieve REM state at all.   Then, when the alarm clock goes off, I heavily caffeinate so that I have the energy to demonstrate to my new clients all the exciting exercise programs that I have developed just for them.  I am enthusiastic.  I am a cheerleader.  I am a teacher too.  But a tired one. 

It's so worth it.

I would rather be sleep deprived and know that I am providing to my clients everything that they pay me for: customized workouts delivered with passion and vigor, created specifically with their needs in mind than be well rested while phoning-it-in, taking a chance with their health and well being and duping them each into thinking I can help them reach goals in which I really have no interest.  So what if I'm ready to crash by 8:30 PM on a Sunday night?

Isn't that why the coffee bean was created?  So much for switching to decaf.