I let a client down. And it was 100% on me.
This should be a lesson for every fitness pro: you’re always being watched, and the decisions you make—whether you realize it or not—shape your business and how people see you.
Before I dive into yesterday’s assholiness, I’ll start by sharing a time I didn’t suck as much. Most personal trainers and coaches I know have done time in a commercial gym.
Sure, it can suck. One of the biggest drawbacks is having to hustle to build your own client list.
This is hard for newcomers, for the more introverted, and for those who aren’t as experienced.
When people ask me for advice on this, I tell them: act as if you’re always being observed or judged.
A good example is how you approach floor hours.
Most new trainers are required to accumulate floor hours each week. It’s like hazing or probation—wandering the club, picking up after other people’s messes.
If I had to compare it to something, it’s somewhere between doing your taxes and jumping into a shark’s mouth.
Anyway, when I did it I tried to put myself in front of as many eyes as possible. I’d say hello, make eye contact, sometimes offer technique tips, talk about core exercises, or even chat about favorite GI Joe characters. You know, because I was cool.
I used my floor hours to provide a service and to reel people in as clients.
And when I worked with a client, I gave them my full attention. I’d be on time, have their program ready, and be proactive with cues and feedback. Coaching, basically.
As a result, people would come up to me, asking if I had openings because they’d been watching me for weeks or months.
I didn’t realize at the time how much I was being observed and judged.
That’s still true today: it matters to me that clients notice I’m not babysitting them, but coaching them.
All of this to say: we all mess up from time to time. Or, more precisely, we have a lapse in judgment.
Most days I show up 10–15 minutes before clients at CORE.
Yesterday I had two clients scheduled for 4 PM. At 3:30 I was still home, jotting down the day’s blog and catching up on emails.
3:40 I knew I was pushing it (my gym’s only a mile away, but that 10–15 minute drive at that time of day can be rough), and I had to post the article to Instagram.
Priorities, right?
“Okay,” I told myself, “I’ll probably be a little late. I’ll shoot my clients a quick email to say I’m on my way and I’ll be a few minutes late.”
No big deal.
Feeling justified, I rushed out the door toward CORE.
I pulled in at 4:03. Both clients were waiting outside, trying to beat the heat.
Joe, a Boston businessman with a team of 12,000 who just started with me three weeks ago and has been an exemplary client, was the first to greet me.
“Hey man, it’s past 4 o’clock.”
“Yeah,” I said, “sorry I’m a little late.”
“Stop posting on Instagram and let’s get to work.”
He’d seen my post and called out my BS.
What an asshole I was.
Joe wasn’t angry or mean. He wasn’t trying to pile on. He said what he said, and we got to work. But his straightforward call-out cut me to the core.
And it served as a wake-up call.
I’m better than that.
You’re better than that too.
Let this be a lesson: you’re always being watched. Always.
