Next month I need to take an exam for work. It's a three-part test: multiple choice questions on exercise and physiological processes; essays on case studies; training my boss who will pretend to be one of the case studies.
We were given a preview of the case studies. We're to pick two, but three of them appealed to me.
George, who is 40, wants to lose some pounds before a trip next spring. He doesn't like to exercise. Janet is a mom in her 30s and an aerobic queen. She wants to tone the back of her arms, etc. Larry, in his 20s, wants to reduce his body fat from 18% to 14%. He knows his way around the weight room, but never stays consistent in his routine.
That night I woke up thinking of Larry. His BMI, that is--and I worried for him. He's healthy! Why is he obsessing over his body fat percentage? Larry was upsetting me. I knew I'd have to choose him.
And George. He'd be a nice challenge. I like that he used to play on a basketball rec league--I'd sneak in some basketball moves to help him find enjoyment in exercise. Maybe after a few weeks with me, he could even get off those beta blockers!
But Janet, well, she lost my empathy. At first I wanted to meet with her to set her straight on this spot-reducing business--not possible--but then she just annoyed me. I pictured her in her matching exercise clothes and sporty cap and just knew we wouldn't get along.
Larry, George and Janet exist only on paper. But I swear I met up with Larry yesterday in the weight room. He was hopping from one thing to the next with no real purpose, and eventually, on the bench press, got in trouble. I rescued him from under his bar and tried to make light of it, knowing that no guy really wants a girl saving him from heavy weight. I was kind, because I cared.