Today’s guest post is by Kim Lloyd, a friend, colleague, and former contributor to this site. If you’re a coach or personal trainer, you’ve probably experienced what Kim describes below: being “fired” by a client. It never feels good. But did you take it as an opportunity to reflect, learn, and grow, or did you shrug it off, turn the page, and repeat the same mistakes?
Failures hurt. Here’s what I learned from one.
A funny thing happened on my way to losing an online training client. By funny, I mean I spent two days in a corner processing what happened. No matter the industry, failures hurt.
The client was an acquaintance I’d met in Boston. After following my blog for a few years, she decided to ditch Zumba (not that there’s anything wrong with Zumba) and start strength training. Great. We hopped on a phone call, talked through her goals, injury history, and why Bob Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks is one of the best vinyl records ever, and I set her up with a program and we began.
But we didn’t.
After a few weeks, she kindly sent me the breakup email no one likes to get. It wasn’t you, it’s me. I just need more space. The spark wasn’t there. Ultimately, she felt overwhelmed and headed back to Zumba (again, not that there’s anything wrong with Zumba).
In that breakup email, she offered a breakdown of the challenges she faced with the program I’d written. Her reaction to the cable machine stood out:
“I have never used the cable pull-down. That’s in the boys’ area, and one feels one should be carrying a gallon container of blue liquid to even be admitted. How will I approach it? How do I change the weight? How long can I stay on it? I’ll completely break into the boys’ area, of course, I don’t care, but it’s somewhat intimidating unless someone shows you first.”
Losing a client stung, sure. But once I got over myself, I confronted the nuances about strength training that I take for granted. I remembered what it felt like when I first started training seriously. What it felt like walking into the free-weight room (not the Nautilus room) with a bunch of people pushing hard, worrying about where to put my gym bag, warming up, and wondering why that man in the corner was wearing a pro wrestling costume. This really happened.
I remembered the time at twenty-four when I couldn’t get the bar off my chest, and the moment when I couldn’t press 15 pounds for more than three reps during softball practice at fifteen. I forgot how long it takes to understand a program—sets, reps, tempo, and questions like what a Pallof Press is, what a Landmine is, and what to do if my gym doesn’t have one.
In strength training, I live in a bubble, and this client reminded me how hard it is for many people to get over the humps I cleared years ago. I forget that there are still humps for others. I try to give people a roadmap, but I forget that they don’t know how to drive the car yet.
What I want most is for people to fall in love with strength training the way I did, because it’s good for them. As a coach, the worst thing is when someone is drawn to the idea of strength training, gets excited about trying it, but then feels so intimidated, defeated, and frustrated by the process that they quit before ever getting started.
My client’s breakup reminded me of people out there—especially women—who are trying to figure out what good information looks like in a world full of Insta-trainers and infomercials. They wrestle with old feelings of inadequacy every time they step into a gym because memories of seventh-grade gym class linger longer than we think.
I’m grateful to this client for many reasons, but most of all for reminding me as a coach that I have to help clients learn how to drive before I send them on their way.
This is why I wrote a book.
Believe me when I say this: I feel a bit timid saying “and that’s why I wrote a book,” even though the truth is that’s exactly why I wrote it. I did so not to boast, but to genuinely help people—particularly women—who are too intimidated to ask for help, or even step foot in the weight room. I wanted to show them that they CAN, but in a way that meets them where they are.
The book is START WHERE YOU ARE: A BEGINNER’S GUIDE TO LIFTING WEIGHTS AND FEELING GREAT.
About the author:
Kim Lloyd spent her first two decades after college trying out 29 different jobs. An English major by training, she found her path in fitness. She’s ACE Certified as a Personal Trainer and Online Certified Trainer. She coaches full-time at Spurling Fitness in Kennebunk, Maine, and trains online clients through Kim Lloyd Fitness. You can find Kim and her inflatable-costume videos online.
Okay, yes, I wrote a book.
