Circle Wide

Clay and his Steel Plates

When I first saw Clay in the gym, I circled wide from his red viking beard and man-bun.  He wore a leather belt to support his back for the dead lift.  He is one of the only people who uses the metal 45 lb. plates because he lifts over 400 lbs.  I assumed that someone like him would be irritated by a puny woman such as myself.  Mind you, I'm not wimpy, ironically I am also a trainer so I am rarely intimidated.  

It is my job to facilitate the "circle up" during class.  After the warm up we check in and just talk.

We talk about the underlying ideas we practice in the gym.  I tell my classes,

"It is so easy to come into the gym and judge each other.  We make assumptions based on how someone looks and how their bodies perform, when really there is a whole person in there and we can probably relate more than we think."

FTR's mission statement is clear:

"To offer a safe place for people in recovery to connect"

It is not to compete or to judge.  This is why we circle up.   Because even I, one who has been here from the beginning, was held back by exterior appearance and assumptions.

In the circle we ask questions like:

What is one thing you're working on?

What is your favorite cereal?

How will you be of service today?

What is one thing you hope for?

Why does community matter to you?

I discovered that Clay is incredibly kind and playful.  He will hang upside down from the bars with me even though he is twice my size, not exactly a natural monkey.  Now I get a warm hug every time he comes to class.  We smile the same smile and he makes me laugh immediately.  He is quick to play D.J. His music surprises me every time.  Pulling from back in the days of The Offspring and AFI and My Chemical Romance, we had "emo" day in the gym.  He has played Adele and Gwar and he would play Phish if we'd let him.

Yesterday as we caught our breath before the next set, I noticed that his eyes did not have their usual spark.  I put a hand on his shoulder and asked,

"Are you okay?"

"No," he responded.

He told me his Mom was in the hospital and this was not the first time.  I saw anger and sadness and fear.  I also saw a commitment to himself and his work in the gym no matter what he was feeling that day.  I saw that he felt safe to tell me the truth.  He didn't have to hide behind physical strength.  As a trainer, I've seen many people cry.  I have cried.  Sometimes because I couldn't lift the weight, and sometimes because I could.  Regardless, there has always been someone at my side, pulling for me, with a high five a hug and a promise to return.

"I'm Batman"