AN HONEST SELF APPRAISAL OF YOUR TRAINING SERVICE

Many years ago, during a conversation, a contemporary asked me to consider the following questions:

1. Do you find yourself engaging in conversations with your clients about their personal lives, social events, sports, entertainment, etc.?
2. Do you find yourself counting repetitions while they are performing?
3. Do you become bored and/or mentally fatigued during sessions?
4. Does your mind wander?
5. Do you find that you are thinking about things that do not pertain to your client, like personal matters, i.e., appointments you must fulfill, places you need to go, etc.?
6. Does it seem like the time elapses slowly while you are training your clients?
7. Does it seem like you teach clients what you know from your own training experiences rather than what you learned from your exercise and/or certification education?

I did not acknowledge the answers to those questions immediately because they provoked a challenge of self-efficacy. Even though I seemed to have a sincere interest in my craft, my response to the questions was a sense of suppressed inadequacy, so I tried very hard to change my attitude, to no avail. Although it was hard to admit that the only “personal” part of my training service was the conversations with my clients, it was even more alarming to concede that the delivery of my service was negligent. The relief from my despair came when I realized the reason for my unintended indifferences.

It was not because I was insincere, careless, or incapable. To the contrary, I was training people like every other personal trainer, so I always thought I was doing the best for my clients. What I discovered was that it was not my lack of interest or devotion to my craft, but rather that my exercise education was too incomplete and impractical to serve my clients in a professional manner.

It was incomplete because there were no lessons about how to customize the training or the exercises according to the individual. After all the education, I was left to figure it out on my own, i.e., to fake it, i.e., to guess at what to do, how to do it, and how much to do. It was impractical because there were no indications of how to analyze what I was observing when my clients were performing, or what to search for to compare, make decisions, and intervene as necessary. The fact is that there are no certification courses and/or exercise science classes that provide enough education for an aspiring professional.

It turned out that the person who asked me those questions was not my peer, as I thought, but the founder of the only institution of exercise that teaches how to use forces inside and outside of the body to make exercise decisions and customize the training experience according to the unique mechanical variables of an individual. That is the special education of Resistance Training Specialists?. It makes training “personal” and brings out the professional attitude that we all possess.

After my RTS? education, there was no need to intentionally avoid the unprofessional standards I regretted. The propensity of the variables per person and per moment of the training was enough to preoccupy me throughout the entire session, with each client. The value of recognizing their unique traits and momentary changes compelled me to scrutinize obsessively and determine how, with what, and when to intervene, leaving me with no time for anything besides the momentary status of my clients.

If the honest appraisal of your current personal training services is like mine, then you are ready to become a veritable exercise professional. If you are interested in transforming your craft into a genuine profession, the Practical hands-on Labs of RTS Foundations? are scheduled to begin this fall in Chicago, so now is the best time to get prepared. You can find all the information you need at rts123.com.

Eric Glickstein, RTSm?

RTS Practical Labs? Instructor of RTS Foundations? education.