Once upon a time in a small town outside of Montreal, Canada, there lived a spirited 9-year-old school girl. While her classmates eagerly awaited the sound of the recess bell, the young girl’s excitement was tainted by the dread of the impending school yard athletics. No matter the sport, the young girl was convinced that the universe had conspired against her, making her the perennial last pick for any team.
The young girl's troubles began in kindergarten when she attempted her first game of kickball. As her classmates kicked the ball with gusto, The young girl found herself tangled in a web of her own limbs, her attempts more reminiscent of a wobbly giraffe than a future athlete. The teasing and disdain that ensued haunted her, leaving a lasting imprint on her.
At recess, within minutes of the start of a dodgeball game, the young girl felt the familiar sting of a rubber ball against her arm. She was out, eliminated from the game. As she walked to the sidelines, her teammates exchanged glances, their disappointment evident. The young girl's eyes welled up with tears, not from the pain of the impact but from the weight of her perceived failure.
Undeterred, the young girl watched from the sidelines, analyzing the game and learning from her mistakes. She observed the strategies of her classmates, their movements, and the subtle art of dodging. She knew she had to prove herself during the next game.
The next day, dodgeballs flew through the air like missiles, and the once quiet gym became a battleground. The young girl, determined to redeem herself, moved cautiously, trying to anticipate the trajectory of the incoming balls, to no avail. Today, like every other day, the sting of the ball against her skin sent her to the bench.
As the years passed, The young girl's lack of athletic prowess became a defining feature of her school experience. Soccer, basketball, and even the seemingly straightforward game of tag proved to be insurmountable challenges. She came to dread recess. As the other children eagerly anticipated being called, the young girl cringed at the prospect. She could feel the weight of her classmates’ inevitable disappointment pressing down on her slender shoulders. As the young girl graduated from high school, as ungainly as she ever was, she couldn’t help but be grateful that she would never have to play a sport again.
13 years later she received her certification as a personal fitness trainer.
That’s my story. My childhood was marked by an aversion to team-related activities, and just the mention of picking teams was enough to make me wish for a place to hide. The idea of engaging in sports during my teenage years made me cringe, and the thought of voluntary exercise seemed like an improbable dream. Yet, here I am, having embraced a career as a personal fitness trainer for over two decades, and finding genuine joy in it.
Throughout my career, I've encountered individuals who’ve shared a similar reluctance towards physical activity due to past intimidating experiences. Some clients even felt the need to apologize for not participating in sports during their childhood. It became evident to me that while the primary objective of sports is winning, exercise is aimed at promoting health and happiness. The key distinction is that exercise, unlike sports, is inclusive and accessible to everyone. Fortunately, I have witnessed firsthand how individuals, regardless of their initial reservations, can discover the transformative and inclusive nature of exercise, making it a source of well-being and fulfillment.
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