CLAIRE PRINCE: LIFE LESSONS IN THE GYM
Courtesy Claire Prince
4 Minute Read
There's a natural hierarchy in coach-to-client relationships, but every person who trains can teach us something meaningful.
Have you ever heard someone say something and realize, within that very moment, that it is something that will stay with you for the rest of your life? During a training session a few years ago, I had one of these experiences. I casually asked my client, who had the motor neuron disease PLS, if she needed a water break. She said no, that it would require too many muscles to swallow a sip of water.
In that moment, two things became clear to me. One, that I hadn’t truly accounted for all of the potential complexities of her condition—it hadn’t occurred to me how something as reflexive as swallowing water could become such a taxing activity. And two, that this woman was incredibly resilient.
It would have been so easy for her to succumb to this degenerative disease and choose not to strain herself working out. Yet every morning, she made a decision to show up and remind her body of what it was still capable of doing. PLS diagnosis be damned. It was like watching her having to constantly convince her body to do something that it had already done for decades before. “Muscle memory” took on a whole new meaning for me. This encounter would remain one of the most profound things that training others has taught me.
While there is a perceived hierarchy in the coach-to-client dynamic, at its core, being a trainer means being of service to others. As a Nike coach, I know first hand that clients defer to their fitness professionals for guidance on multiple health and wellness concerns. However, I wager that the trainer has just as much to learn, if not more, than the clients themselves.
As a trainer for the past decade, I have worked with an array of people. I’ve trained kids as young as 4 years old and had elderly clients as seasoned as 90 years old. I’ve coached elementary school athletes. This group taught me how to be delicate. I was responsible for how they would first receive and perceive sport; they’d carry this experience forward with them for life.
“On any given day, trainers may assume the role of therapists, mediators, cheerleaders, drill sergeants, babysitters, nutritionists, and motivators.”
I have also coached would-be and professional athletes. Athletes also remember the coaches and trainers who were involved in the early stages of their sports development. I understand how the experience can make or break their love for the game, or physical activity, full stop. For the professional athlete, coaches are working with someone who has gone the distance and succeeded; it’s our job to sustain that functional relationship with their sport as much as possible.
I have seen the full impact that training can have on a person’s life. I’ve trained future brides with goals of fitting into their wedding dress of dreams; I’ve trained models to feel their best on the brightest runways. On both of these occasions, there’s normally a targeted deadline. They have to work hard and embrace their discomfort to grow; they need to become the person who actually meets those deadlines, and only their own commitment and effort will get them there. When they achieve what they set out to do, they experience a surge in confidence. That sense of power then stays with them as they walk down the aisle or the runway. This has always highlighted to me the transformative power of setting ambitious goals and achieving them; a hard deadline is an intentional kindness. Watching clients transcend, time after time, has taught me the importance of direction, both in and out of training.
My client with PLS has taught me a lot. Prior to being diagnosed with her condition—a progressive neuromuscular disorder caused by the degeneration of motor neurons in the brain and spinal cord—she was a fitness professional herself. I can still easily see the muscle definition all over her body as remnants of the decades of work she had put in the gym, despite the fact that her body is preoccupied with fighting this disease. PLS makes voluntary muscle activity, such as speaking, walking, and breathing, much harder to control. When I first started coaching her, it was immediately apparent that my professional mettle was set to be tested. I had to consider her motor limitations and her age—and the fact I was coaching a woman who was training clients before I even knew what a deadlift was.
Training her taught me how to get creative in our sessions; it’s like solving a puzzle in some ways. Our sessions methodically target all the major muscle groups, and involve in-gym equipment set-ups so we don’t have to walk from station to station during the workout. Ideally, we always have a bench and bar available that she can either sit on or grab onto for support. My arm is a third option for support.
This woman understands how to work hard. She proves that every day, despite actively fighting for her way of life. She wants to be challenged and does not want to be limited to a regressed version of herself. Instead, she foregoes hydration to continue her sessions. It’s inspiring.
All of my clients have inadvertently taught me something that I take forward with me in life. Clients have different personalities and circumstances that require different methods of delivery to achieve desired results; at the core of training, there is humanity, connection, support, and a shared goal. Coaching almost requires me to be a different version of myself each time.
Many trainers can attest to the fact that they wear many hats. On any given day, they may assume the role of therapists, mediators, cheerleaders, drill sergeants, babysitters, nutritionists, and motivators—just to name a few. The ability to read, assess, analyze, and anticipate what each client needs is not something you can do on a daily basis without learning some things—both from them and about yourself, and about life—in the process.
This isn’t something a textbook can teach you. There is no textbook for life. Growing up as an athlete, I was always reminded that the best athletes are those who remain coachable; this character trait has stayed with me this far, and I am a better trainer for it. I have learned that most people have a story or wisdom that can help us grow. Every person we interact with, whether elite athlete or not, is an athlete of life.
