One Girls Journey From Fatass to Fabulous

Today’s pick from the mailbag: “Please discuss your ‘experience’ opening and running a successful business.” Which is funny because even though Sam and I have been branding our business for 2 years, our studio is scarcely 6 months old. And I have no idea, really, if we’re successful. It depends on how you define success, I suppose. On the one hand, we lost a business partner, have alienated several of the gyms where we used to work, have angered our neighbor who (rightfully so) struggles to deal with our noise, and most months only kind of barely scrape by.

But, on the other hand, we have incredibly happy members who are committed to us and who are patient during the growing pains because what happens in that room every day is really special, and they think it’s awesome that in our first year of business we are actually able to scrape by.

It’s all about perspective, really.

So, when people ask me questions about opening a business, first I ask them if they are interested in a trio franchise opportunity, there are a few lessons I typically share.

1. Know your ‘why’. If you want to make your business a success, you should know exactly why you need to open. You need to have the elevator version, the cocktail party version, the ‘sitting down with potential partners or investors’ version, and the ‘reminding your spouse when times are tough’ version all well learned and rehearsed, because people will come at you from every angle with a critique or a reason WHY this won’t work, and you need to be able to meet these critiques with positivity and preparedness.

And I am not here to criticize your ‘why’. But I am here to point out that owning the whole shebang is a lot different than performing the service that made you interested in this in the first place. Like, loving to eat ice cream? May not be enough of a reason to open an ice cream shop. Because owning the shop has very little to do with eating the product. You can eat the product at home on your lazyboy. Owning the store means sanitation codes and ordering and inventory and waste and hiring and training and firing and marketing and advertising and selling and cleaning and repairing and paying the bills and paying taxes and …

Well, you get my point, right?

2. Get a prenup. Whether you are a sole proprietor or a partnership, whether you have investors or are using your nest egg, consult an attorney who knows how to create corporations and decide right away not only how the company is going to form and to run, but also how it will be dissolved in the event that a partner or investor wants out. I know none of us can even fathom a divorce when we are planning the wedding, but shit happens. Even to the best of relationships. And Sam and I are living proof that no matter how strong the bond in the beginning, you cannot rely on a person’s moral compass to make them do the right thing in the event of a breakup. A signature on a lease or a loan is not enough to make a partner honor their financial commitment to you or your company once they decide they want to leave.  Without an operating agreement that outlines the terms of the working partnership as well as its dissolution, there will be conflict at some point about how to utilize the profit or how to divide the debt, and the person who ends up being screwed will probably be you.

3. Have some swagger. I cannot figure out a way to make a success of a business if you don’t have the confidence to tell somebody why they need you, why you’re the best at what you do, or why you deserve the business versus the guy down the street. It may make you a jackass to say “the guy who owns the ice cream shop down the street picks his nose while he’s driving,” but it does NOT make you a jackass to say “my ice cream is handmade, all organic and non GMO, and you aren’t going to get that in the shop down the street.” So if you or your partners are squeamish about being able to do this, you may end up losing your shirt to the guy with his finger in his nose.

I could go on and on, but this is my elevator version. Aside from my children, business is probably my favorite topic to discuss. And I would of course be remiss if I didn’t say – if your business is fitness, can I interest you in a franchise opportunity? Because that’s what is coming down the pike. Because I love what I do, I know why I need to do it, and I have swagger. And because I just honest to goodness can’t see myself doing something else.

Can you?

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My first job working in a gym was about a gazillion years ago when I was in college. I was the Party Coordinator at Lakeshore Athletic Club in the Lincoln Park area of Chicago. My job was in birthday party planning for the children of club members – and without the benefit of a Zumba kids license or anything like that (I can’t believe I can tell my children that I was alive before the invention of cell phones, Google, and ZUMBA for Pete’s sake), I got the job because I sold them on the notion that I could make a great party based in fitness that didn’t feel like exercise. We DID dance (in my infinite wisdom I called it Movement to Music), acted out stories (Creative Yoga), and practiced agility (Obstacle Course!) I’m not even sure I worked there a year, not because of the kids, who were pretty sweet, but because of the parents. I was young and inexperienced, and this was a time before Bravo taught me about housewives and Birken bags, so as you can imagine, the women in a luxury athletic club in a ritzy Chicago neighborhood in the early nineties both fascinated and terrified me. Now I know they were probably in their mid to late 30s, maybe a few had hit 40, and were probably going through lots of life’s battles that I have now gone through, but to me they were lifetimes away from my 18 year old self. My observations were watching them pursue FAT FREE indulgence (Snack Wells!)  and hours of CARDIO (in Spandex!) while their husbands worked downtown and came home late, and I was the girl who threw the thousand dollar birthday parties designed to secretly melt the babyfat of the children of the club. Moi.

I think about that from time to time. Now those children are well into their twenties, older than I was then. And I’m 40, still selling fitness disguised as a party.

I’ve been writing here since 2009. This blog has afforded me great opportunity to travel and conference and network. I have heard from people all over the country (and really, all over the world) who have connected with my writing somehow and shared with me their experience trying to live a healthier lifestyle. And also I’ve heard from a lot of people asking me how to get skinny.

Which is funny. For obvious reasons.

But one thing I learned early on is that the growth and success of the fitness ‘industry’ depends greatly on a person’s desperate desire for change. It is the desperate person that very often makes the middle of the night infomercial purchase, or has the year-end binge before vowing to clean it all up on January 1, or who orders the shakes/supplements, or finds the doctors who will prescribe the pills. Who pays for the fancy gym membership long after he or she stopped going. Who wants it to be as easy as popping a pill. Who thinks that their pain or insecurity or personal failure is because of their body, and if they could just be THIN they would be happy.

But the other thing I have learned about the fitness industry is about the instructor or trainer. Just like there are different levels of need from a client, an instructor has many competing interests as well. If we’re legit, then we have to be good students to earn the certifications and licensure to teach and train safely and effectively. We have to be good planners to be able to put together a class or session that will keep the student motivated and meet his or her expectation. We have to be an engaging personality so that students will want to be in our classes. And we have to be willing and able to spend lots of money and time to obtain these licenses, certifications, continuing education, conferences, events, and personal liability insurance.

And on top of it all, we have to make it look easy, or at the very least, look accessible, so that people will give something a try.

Some instructors don’t do those things. Many of the formats you see on the group fitness schedule at your gym require nothing more than a check for $300-$1500, and 8-16 hours of your time on a given weekend, and whether or not you have any real knowledge of fitness or safety, you can get a job teaching that format because you completed that training. You don’t have to be a member of any accredited fitness organization to get many popular licenses. And they can be on the same teaching schedule as somebody who has dedicated much time and effort to the study of the science of exercise, or health, or nutrition. It’s up to the integrity of the instructor to put the additional work in, and not all of them do.

And how are YOU to know the difference?

Further, whether we work for a gym or for ourselves, trainers need to attract people in order to have clients. So whether we choose to acknowledge it or not, we are salesmen, advertisers, and marketers. Whether it’s utilizing our social media, wearing a tee shirt with a slogan, giving a class away for free or doing sales/incentives, placing ads, offering discounts for referrals – we are the sellers of the dream, and though we are in a ‘helping’ profession, few of us do it for free. We are earning income in various ways – we sometimes make money ‘per head’ in a class, or sometimes we are vying for the best time slots on a gyms schedule, or sometimes we teach the group fitness classes  in order to attract potential personal training clients – all reasons we want a big turnout in class. And truthfully, many trainers (including the one that inspired this post) work for cash, making hundreds of dollars a week totally under the table. Which, for the trainer, is a great gig.  So for myriad reasons, it’s important to a fitness professional to generate a loyal ‘following’ of satisfied (and repeat) clients.

 And somebody with years of practical experience, all kinds of formal education, certifications and training and lots of happy clients can be working in the same arena as somebody with an 8 hour license, an engaging personality, and a gimmick. Hardly seems fair, but it’s true.

It’s funny that so many people ask me questions about healthy living, because from a superficial standpoint, somebody could easily say that I’m not a great ‘commercial’ for the commodity I sell. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m not thin. My vastly improved strength/endurance/flexibility isn’t something seen when you look at me. Nor is my daily defeat of the anxiety and occasional depression that working out has helped me manage. The fact that my social life consists more of fitness parties and 5Ks instead of pitchers of beer and shots is something that has to be explained because when you look at me, you see only my right now. And the truth is, for most people, fit equals thin and that’s not me. But still, people who know me or know something about my journey will ask me questions, and sometimes I will give my opinion. And if something sounds dangerous or unhealthy, I will say so.

The email that pushed me to write came from somebody I’ve met along the way who lives in a gated community in Florida, where beachbodies are a hot commodity. A trainer approached the HOA about coming in and utilizing the pool and fitness facility to work with residents of the neighborhood, there was a vote, and she was approved. She went door to door with fliers about classes, personal training, and nutritional counselling. Every now and again I hear from this woman who tells me something that goes on there, usually because she herself feels a little uncomfortable with it, but just wasn’t confident enough to say so. From what has been shared with me, the instructor makes a lot of jokes about calling her workouts ‘torture’, but really they kind of are. She said it’s a pretty common occurrence for somebody to have to stop during a workout due to dizziness or nausea. My reader said it’s kind of like a badge of honor to say you felt like you needed to barf, or better yet, to barf and then get back to work. She shared with me this trainer’s reaction to her story about taking a trio Zumba class at a conference, where her HRM showed a great calorie burn, and she actually had FUN – where it wasn’t torture at all! The trainers response?  “Wouldn’t the teachers be thin if they really knew anything about fitness?”

Yeah.

But this trainer keeps a tight hold on her clients, and just like with any “diet” or fad, people lose weight when they stick with her every day. I looked at this woman’s website and social media – lots of pics of women flexing their muscles and talking about Her! Amazing! Results! with any and all kinds of credit being focused on the trainer.  But from what my friend has told me,  it’s not so much a teaching environment as it is a just do what you’re told environment. From the one-side of the story I have received, this trainer has ONE way of training EVERY client, regardless of their starting point, and it is the clients job to get up to speed.

The after pics my friend has shown me of these women –many of whom are her neighbors and friends – are way more telling than the flexing and the duck lips – the AFTER afters. After the student has run out of money or motivation, burned out, and dropped out of this elite fitness clique. You know, when the weight came back.

A few days ago this reader emailed me, and in the subject line was: THE LAST STRAW. She was told by this trainer that she couldn’t have the information on a “cleanse” lots of the clients were doing if she was going to just run to somebody else for an opinion. The trainer said if my friend didn’t trust her to make her thin, then she should just go find a Zumba class.

Blink. Blink.

Now I realize this is an extreme story and most trainers are NOT this egotistical. But there are glimmers of truthful experiences we have all been through in this example. My friend said she could see now how her desperation to ‘fix’ her body is what this trainer picked up on and exploited, and even though so many of the other woman didn’t see that yet, they would eventually.

And that, my friends, DOES happen. All the time.

My friend wrote “if that stupid cleanse isn’t something she’s willing to put out in public, then it’s probably not something that’s going to truly benefit me. These things keep us dependent on her. If I’m going to change myself, it has to come from ME. I can’t believe how caught up I got in trying to fit in with that.”

Even though she asked my opinion, she already had her answer. And she found that she had the confidence to go her own way.

So the moral of the story is, listen to your inner voice. Ask for credentials as well as testimonials, and if you are ever shamed for getting second (or third or fourth) opinions, move on. If you like the boot camp style, if you want to work out until you puke, if that’s what motivates you and makes you push your limits, that’s okay. But if it’s not, that’s okay too. You’ll know when you’re in the right place for YOU.

Biggest Jazz Hands EVAH

And if you’re ever unsure, you can always ask MrsFatass.

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So it’s the first day of the new year and this resolution business is already making me cranky. Well, it’s not the actual act of making a ‘resolution’ that I don’t like. I totally get why the first of the year makes people want to get started on so many new things. It’s kind of the closest thing to a clean slate we really ever get, right? So why not take advantage of it? I am an encourager of setting goals at the new year and all year. Keeps us putting one foot in front of the other.

The problem, though, is that January One brings out the novice. Just like I stay in on New Year’s Eve because I don’t want to share the road with all the novice partiers out there, who only drank a little champagne but then get behind the wheel, I should stay off of Facebook on New Year’s Day because of all of the bad resolutions that I bump into. I am a goal setter all the time, not just when the clock strikes 12, so I’ve had a lot of experience in this arena. I’m good at setting goals and I’m kind of good at sticking with them. Do more cardio? That was my resolution in 2009, and a year later not only was I still doing more cardio, I was on my way to becoming an instructor. I have resolved to floss. To take more care with my appearance. This year? I resolve to send birthday cards to my immediate family and to do it on time. I’m buying stamps tomorrow and I might even go ahead and buy birthday cards too. Set myself up for success.

Goals are good when they are specific. When you know what you want to achieve and you have a clear path for getting there. But today I’m tooling around Facebook and see ridiculous stuff like “live every day like it’s my last.” WTF? I mean, I love the notion of a goal like “make sure the last thing I always say to my child is ‘I love you’” because I would never want my last words to a loved one to be “you drive me batshit crazy.” But live each day like it is my last? What does that even mean?

I saw a lot of “be a better person” kind of stuff too. Now, you may be asking yourself what kind of a person picks on a person who just wants to be a better person, and I’m with you on that. I don’t want to criticize someone who wants to be a force of good in the world. My problem isn’t with the desire to be better, my problem is with the lack of specificity on the HOW. HOW do you want to be a better person? Most of us want to do just that. But being so vague will just leave you lost in the sauce. What are you going to do? Are you going to go back and fix something you broke? Right a previous wrong? Say you’re sorry to someone you screwed over? Or are you going to be a better person by starting to tithe? Volunteer? Or are you going to be a better person by always taking the furthest parking spot from the door so you leave a closer one for someone who may need more? By always paying for coffee of the person in line behind you at Starbucks?

The possibilities are endless really. But if somebody isn’t writing down the specifics - I want to be a better person this year by always letting someone with only one or two items cut in front of me at the grocery store – then chances are they haven’t really given much thought to the how. And so how will they measure their progress?

That’s kind of the problem with resolutions. They are for the novice goal setter, who really has no choice but to forget about them in a month or two because they didn’t really set themselves up for success. These lofty, fluffy, Brand! New! Me! resolutions give the whole process a bad name. It’s a time waster. I’m more of the put up or shut up school of thought than the “lets find more ways for me to justify being who I am without really having to work to change a thing” camp. You know?

It’s top of mind for me right now, being a person of my word. I took a big knife to the back recently and it’s made me much more aware of how my own actions affect others. Even if it’s just standing up in front of a group of students at trio and saying “I’m going to lose 10 pounds with you all this month” (which I kind of did. EEk) I want to make sure they all know they can trust me. That I’m not just saying that so they’ll buy another membership. That when I say we’re in this together, I really mean it.

So, for me, resolutions at this or any other time of year have to ring true, so while some folks are making a brand! new! them! this year (I mean, REALLY? You’re resolving to make a brand new YOU?) I’m going to stick with the me I’ve got and go with these:

1.      Send birthday cards (and send them on time) to my immediate family and best friend this year.

2.      Work with a dog trainer to help my puppies have better manners. Blue was obviously mistreated before he came to us and he needs to be better socialized.

3.      Make sure “I love you” is the last thing I say every time I say goodbye to a loved one. Every. Time.

Happy New Year! (I love you!)

(See? See how I did that?)

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I have had a lot few sleepless nights this week, laying in the dark blinking at the ceiling trying to get my arms around the fact that it’s almost  January. Back when trio was actually a trio, last Spring when we were strategizing and planning and birthing our baby, several times we commented about just making it to January, when we would be bustling and busy and getting ahead and replenishing the ‘cushion’ money we spent during opening. If we can just make it to January, we said, even though it would be hectic and crowded and a little bit out of control, we’d actually be able to relax a bit. Because it’s the busy season for the fitness industry. The period of time you wait for all year long. Harvest time. Like February for Hallmark. Even if we were just mediocre, we’d still experience a surge in business. And trio is not mediocre. Not even close.

So fast forward 6 months and we are down one partner, up four or so new class formats, and standing on the brink of The Season. The past six months have changed me. Opening a fitness studio has little to do with loving being a Zumba teacher. And I? LOVED being a Zumba teacher. And one awesome thing I have learned about myself since we opened is that I’m actually more than just a good Zumba teacher. My love for Zumba has evolved into a love for fitness and for teaching/coaching. I can say now that I’m a good Fitness Instructor. I’m proud of that.

Unfortunately, teaching good classes no longer gets to be my first priority. There is a whole lot of business involved in running a business. And our third partner and business manager bailed. One day the three of us are together in my living room celebrating my daughter’s birthday and high-fiving over the enrollment numbers in a boot camp, and 4 days later Samantha and I wake up to an email saying “The stress is too much, I need to quit, please call the landlord and the bank and the utilities and take my name off of everything. Hope I can still come work out with you though!”

Yeah. I’ll just let that sink in for a moment.

See, Samantha and I were indeed running ragged all over town teaching here, there and yonder. But it was this third partner that came to us with the dream of opening a studio. “I’ve always wanted to do this” her first email to me said. “I want 2 or three classrooms, and locker rooms, and memberships. Would you ever be interested in something like this?”

Well. We got interested. We made the decision to join forces, and we all held hands and jumped together.

Except that we weren’t quite together. Obviously. Because the last article written about the studio? Was titled “The DUO behind TRIO.”

There have been times that I’ve actually been jealous of that third ‘partner’. Because within days of that email, she’d rejoined the gym we all came from, and just kind of absolved herself the stress of being a business owner. Of making sure we make payroll and that our customer service is second to none and that we make real connections with the people walking through our door. Sometimes I wish I sent the email first. I mean, are you kidding me? This is hard fricking work! We set the bar HIGH when we opened trio’s doors. Our instructors are TOP NOTCH. Our sound system is BOOMING. Our events are PROFESSIONAL. Our students feel like they BELONG. Our attention to detail is UNPARALLELED. To say that running this kind of business is exhausting? Doesn’t even begin to cover it.

So no wonder number three wanted out.

But in leaving, she created a lot more for Samantha and me. So the thing that I loved most, that made me want to open a studio in the first place, continues to fall further from the top of the list. But it is the reason we HAVE a business, so letting our aches and pains and frustrations and tensions show is not permissible or professional and it won’t keep the business going strong. Because as much as it is a happy place, a place where we have not just made friends, but have added to our FAMILY, and a place where we can be real, it is also a business.

I forgot where I was going with this.

Oh! Yes. January.

So here we sit with the pressure of January looming. It will be the best of times (holy crapballs you guys, you should SEE our SCHEDULE! Fitness parties and special guests and just total amazingness!) and it will be the worst of times (being down a second partner for 2 weeks smack dab in the middle of it all, being on the schedule for all but 3 days the whole month) but this is it. This is the month we’ve been waiting for. What if we’ve done everything wrong in getting ready for our busy season, and we won’t have enough room or enough offerings or enough towels? Or, what if we’ve done everything right in getting ready for our busy season but the people just don’t come?

Who knows. All I know is that we didn’t bail on our members and our family when it would have been much easier to do so. And the fact that I have ugly cried numerous times in the last week from emails, Christmas cards, and texts from students and colleagues who are in the same “preparing for the new year” state of mind that I am, who are saying “you don’t understand what trio means to me” means that there is no place in the world I would rather be, and no person I would rather be doing it with.

I am not really a resolution maker. But I am a goal setter. And one of my goals is to find my way back to my blog. MrsFatass isn’t over. And I have a feeling 2014 is going to be her year.

Merry Christmas ya’ll.

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Dear Mrs Fatass,

My fat ass misses your fat ass. You used to write – things that touched me, things that were vulnerable, things that made me snort with laughter. Then something dark happened, and you alluded to it, but you didn’t elaborate, and you became silent. Cautious. Reticent.

I just want you to know, I check here often. And I wonder about you, and what happened, and how you are doing, and if you feel a sense of magic and wonderment throughout your day, or if it’s all a big slog.

That is all. Love,

A reader

Dear Reader,

Thank you so much for checking in on me. I think about you often, too. All of you. The Royal You. And specific yous too. I celebrated an anniversary last month – 5 years in the town I live in now. I ruminated on that for a while, feeling the memories so strongly. The weight of the stroller when I’d walk the neighborhood with Thing Two. The way the heat on my skin felt foreign – like a VACATION place. Being completely anonymous.

That’s when I started this blog, and I spent some time remembering what those early days felt like. Finding my voice. Experimenting. Waiting for each and every comment to come through. My phone was just a flip phone then. I had to actually pull out my laptop to read a comment. And I only pulled it out a couple of times a day. Maybe when the baby was sleeping. Maybe to wind down at the end of the day.

(That baby, by the way, is now ruling her Kindergarten class. But my phone remained substandard until very VERY recently. )

The blogs that I read were my “reality” shows. The authors my celebrities. I was starstruck when the “big” bloggers stopped by and left a comment. And slowly but surely I began to understand how these connections turned into friendships.

I had ‘people’. And I had things to say. And nobody to hide them from because really, why not tell the whole world about how you sharted while your brand new hot boyfriend was standing there waiting for you to get out of your car?

You’re right, Reader. Things did shift. They did get dark. But my anonymity was gone. I couldn’t come here and write it out anymore because I made the decision to let the people in my “real” life meet Mrs. Fatass. And even though I had the guts to write lots and lots of posts, I didn’t have the guts to hit publish because the stories weren’t just mine anymore. They belonged to lots of people. Some of whom you have met here. But there are real people behind those funny names,  and I didn’t really know how to tell the parts of the stories that only belonged to me. So it got quiet.

Time marched on, though, and I make attempts as I can to come back here to share. The good news? Is that things are good. Things are really, really good. Occasionally magic and wonder, even. And you, fellow fat ass, YOU have reminded me that I’ve got some more stories. One of them is even about poop.

Thank you for writing to me, Reader.

MrsFatass

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Dear Thing Two;

Last year we had your ears pierced for your birthday. You were nervous, but so very excited to get to wear earrings like a big girl. I picked you up from school and took you to lunch and the pictures you drew on the placemat was full of designs that you wanted your earrings to look like.

When we got to the store in the mall, you started to get nervous. You felt the same way I did about the woman helping us. Her voice was a little too loud and shrill, and she was a little too hurried to comfort the nerves of a five year old who wasn’t sure exactly was about to happen. And instead of calling over a partner to handle piercing both ears at once, she did it alone, one lobe at a time. You were shocked and then devastated and then spitting mad at how much the first ear hurt that we almost had to walk out of there having gotten your EAR pierced, not your EARS.

I pinned you down, pried your shoulder away from your ear and told the woman to Go Go GO We got through the other lobe and made it home and spent several days helping you get through the trauma of mommy making you do it, and I thought a lot about the fact that it was so hard for you because you had no experience with pain. You don’t remember getting shots, you have barely had a skinned knee, had no break or sprain or stitch to toughen you up.

You hung on to this memory of me making you finish the process because it hurt your heart, too. You trusted me and I let you down and you didn’t really know what to do with that emotion. You were really upset with me. For a little while, The Great Ear Piercing Fail of 2012 changed our relationship. You held a grudge and I kind of got a sneak peak into what you’ll be like someday when the hurts get bigger.

Even now, a year later, you will still say that you wanted to stop after the first one. And still you get nervous that changing them will hurt. You hold tight to that which hurts you. And that, my dear Thing Two, you come by honestly.

Your fifth year brought you your first real BFF. The two of you have a language all your own. You play dress up and paint nails and watch Jesse and she taught you to like hot sauce and you helped her pass her swim test. Two years separate you, and someday those years will seem like a huge distance. But for now you two are like sisters, and I love the way you two love each other.

You said goodbye to your Woodson this year, and it still breaks my heart when you miss him out loud. But two weeks ago you opened your heart to two baby pound puppies that needed us to save them, and we also needed them to save us. They swooshed in with licks and smiles and puppy breath and their freckles make everyone notice them. They’re your babies, and you’ve dressed them in tutus and painted their nails and when they get on your lap and lick your face your giggle is like music.

Six will be a big year for you. Kindergarten and long hair and Dance Class. You’re so comfortable in your own body that I was nervous about saying yes to class; I didn’t want you to get self-conscious or critical of yourself, believing that there was a right and a wrong way to dance. But you love to click away on your tap shoes and show me your jazz moves and so I just have to swallow my own experiences and trust you to create your own.

This year your celebration will be all PINK! and Hello, Kitty and games at Chuck E. Cheese. No hurts this year, my sweet Thing Two. Just your BFF and cake and dancing.

Happy Birthday.
Love, Mama

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