More Than A Resolution

Everyone in the fitness industry has had a different start, although sometimes our stories may look quite similar. Some of us were athletes in school, some of us went on a journey to change our body composition, and some of us just started based on a goal.

I started a fitness journey many times in my life.

As a kid, I started learning how to run and jump and be strong because I wanted to be the hero of my own story. 

As a young girl, I started subscribing to fitness magazines, blogs and videos because I felt that I needed to be more active to change the things that I didn’t like about myself.

As a teenager, I started lifting weights in my basement, because I liked feeling strong.

In those days, I thought that I should be a personal trainer, because I liked being active. 

But, adulthood and burnout hit harder than I anticipated. And being active or working out simply did not make the list of priorities in my life, while I was just trying to get by.

Not until later.

I worked hard, and I felt like I had achieved some consistency in my life, but that wasn’t enough.

While I was working, I dealt with some rather unpleasant situations that followed me into my personal life. And the constant anxiety felt like it was eating me alive. 

That was why I finally decided to make a change. I wanted to feel the way that I did when I was more active. I wanted to feel strong and capable again. And I thought a New Year’s Resolution to join a gym and get active would be a fantastic way to begin. 

But I had never actually gone to a gym before. I had always worked out at home, and I was incredibly nervous about it. Even more so when I thought about how crowded gyms could get around New Year’s. So, I changed my tactic, and I decided to start immediately, in November, during the chaos of the holidays but before the busy season in the fitness world. 

I figured this could be a really good opportunity to avoid the crowds and figure out what I was doing. So, I called a friend, a CSEP Certified personal trainer, and I went to the gym for the first time.

I got comfortable with the equipment, with the routine, and the environment, and by the time New Year’s rolled around, the gym didn’t seem as intimidating, and neither did the New Year’s crowd. 

And I kept going.

I got stronger.

I got braver. 

And I finally made the decision to apply to the NAIT Personal Fitness Trainer Program.

My early New Year’s resolution was easily one of the best decisions that I ever made. Not only did it help to reduce the anxiety of starting something new, but it also helped me to build a long lasting habit because I didn’t wait until after I was burnt out from the holidays.

Changes are very difficult to make. Lifelong habits are hard to build. So, why not do what you can to make it easier on yourself? 

In honour of the decision that changed my life, and in the hopes that this workaround might be able to help somebody else, we are offering a “More Than a Resolution” Promotion for anybody who is interested in beginning a new journey in movement.

The “More than a Resolution” promotion includes weekly personal training for 3 months, at 10% off of our regular rate. If you’re new or nervous at the gym, this offer was made with you in mind and is available now through November 30th, 2026.

Weekly sessions are catered to your goals, interests, and abilities, with coaching that meets you where you’re at, and emphasises learning, and building sustainable habits that you can carry on long after the session ends.

Click here to sign up OR book a discovery call to learn more

Is Your Personal Trainer Out to Get You?

I recently listened to an audiobook called “The Personal Trainer” by Rebecca Collomosse, and if I’m being perfectly honest, I thought I was going to hate it. It’s a thriller, and right up my alley in terms of genre, but I knew that I’d find nearly any portrayal of a personal trainer frustrating, and that certainly turned out to be true here. But as the story came together and I saw a larger picture emerge, my perspective changed. 

The antagonist of the story, Claudia, is essentially an evil personal trainer. She epitomizes everything that’s wrong with the fitness industry, and yet she isn’t that far off from a lot of the coaches and influencers you see today. In many ways she is a stereotype of a fitness trainer: tall, blonde, slim and toned, in bright coloured athletic wear, with a perky smile and a bounce in her step. But behind the peppy demeanor, her tactics are manipulative, even abusive, and she is constantly pushing the boundaries of her role.

She uses tactics like food and body shaming, making judgemental comments disguised as “feedback”. She makes sweeping claims about food with no explanation or nuance, like “pasta turns into sugar in your stomach,” and constantly talks about calories–foods that have too many, or how many you can burn with exercise. In fact, calorie burning seems to be the only thing she knows about exercise, because she is always changing her training modalities, and making broad, often inaccurate statements about their benefits. Claudia has no respect for boundaries and actively ignores her client when she feels unsafe with the intensity of the exercise, employing a drill sergeant motivation style to push her so hard that she vomits. 

On top of all of that, She encourages, or rather, shames her client into cutting back her eating to such an extreme degree in the pursuit of a short term weight loss goal, that she is too weak to think clearly, let alone safely exercise. 

All of this leads her client to feel embarrassed and shameful of her body and her food choices. She fears her trainer’s reaction to what she eats, and continues pushing past her level of tolerance to avoid disappointing her. She develops greater and greater anxiety throughout their relationship and it ultimately causes distrust in the training relationship, and also within herself. She feels consumed with her weight loss journey, and even though she questions Claudia’s methods, she feels unable to achieve the same results through less extreme measures. 

As an experienced, body neutral personal trainer myself, everything about Claudia set off my alarm bells, so it wasn’t a huge surprise to me when she was revealed as the villain of the story. Regardless of the overarching plot (which had nothing to do with fitness, in case you were wondering), I knew that she was evil the moment she shamed her client for eating grapes. 

Ultimately, it’s revealed that Claudia isn’t who she’s claimed to be, afterall. Not only is Claudia not a qualified personal trainer, but the only reason she took on the role was to advance her own, dark agenda. She had no real concern for the wellness or safety of her client, and was willing to knowingly cause her harm for personal gain. The more insecure her client became, the more Claudia pushed her to do more sessions, drink specialty smoothies, and take more and more control over her food choices and activities. 

Whether you’re a fan of thrillers or not, The Personal Trainer turned out to be both an interesting narrative, and an insightful comment on the fitness and wellness industry. It’s a great reminder to look critically at the fitness and nutrition advice you’re receiving, and ask yourself, what does this person have to gain from me following their guidance? 

Now there’s no denying that as a personal trainer myself, I obviously stand to benefit from clients seeking my guidance. We live in a capitalistic society, and this is how I’ve chosen to make my living. But unlike Claudia, the reason I chose this path wasn’t to manipulate and starve my clients into submission…It was to help them feel better, using methods that I believe in, not only because they’ve helped me, but because they’re backed by evidence and consider the whole person. More importantly, I want my clients to leave our work feeling more connected to themselves and more capable of making their own decisions—not more dependent on me.

While I don’t think it’s likely that you’ll come across a personal trainer or fitness coach with quite as nefarious of plans as Claudia, there are a few important things to keep in mind when you’re consuming content, or following advice of those who claim to be experts. 

In Canada, personal training remains an unregulated industry. Meaning that almost anyone can call themselves a personal trainer and charge you for their services. Most trainers operating out of a reputable facility will have to be insured, which might mean they have a personal training certification, as it can be difficult to get insurance without some documentation. But certifications vary and can be obtained from a weekend training course, a 3 month program, a diploma program, or even a degree. 

Online however, things can get even shakier. It’s not uncommon to see influencers, celebrities, and everyone in between selling their fitness and nutrition programs, with little to no actual training in exercise or nutrition science. The sad truth is, profiting off of the insecurities of others has long been an industry standard, and social media has made it even easier for unqualified “coaches” to get in on the action. 

So, if Claudia is an exaggerated example of what can go wrong when we put too much trust in the wrong person, how can you tell whether someone is actually worth trusting with your body, your health, and your money?

First and foremost, vet your sources. Whether you’re hiring a personal trainer, looking for an online coach, or just taking in information, make sure you’re getting reputable advice.

Ask the coach or trainer about their training and qualifications. 

Ask about their work and lived experience with the goals and challenges you’re hoping to address. 

Ask about their methods.

Ask yourself “what does this person stand to gain from me believing their advice?

Next, look out for red flag behaviour. This is not always straightforward, especially if you don’t have previous experience with a coach or trainer, but if anything they do reminds you of Claudia, that’s probably a bad sign. 

Look out for coaches that make big bold statements about specific foods or exercises. If it sounds too simple or too good to be true, it probably is. 

Be wary of those who constantly talk about calorie burning, cutting calories, restricting specific foods, or adhering to rigid food rules, while also trying to sell you more and more sessions, shakes, or supplements. 

Last, but I’d say most importantly, do they respect your boundaries and honour your autonomy? If it doesn’t feel safe to say no to your coach, or if they push you to do anything that doesn’t feel right to you, listen to that. 

Thankfully, most personal trainers are not secretly plotting your downfall while pretending to care about your health, but finding a coach you can actually trust still matters.

If you're looking for a trainer who will listen to you, respect your boundaries, work with your whole person, and help you build a healthier relationship with movement rather than another set of rules to follow, that's exactly the kind of coaching we aim to provide at Work of A.R.T.

You can book a free consultation with us to see if we're a good fit. No shame, no grape policing, and absolutely no making you throw up on a treadmill.

Pursuing Presence: Lessons from my 37th lap around the sun

I recently celebrated my 37th birthday.

If I’m being honest, I typically find myself struggling around my birthday. This happens largely because thoughts of celebration can be easily overshadowed by grief, and also because over the years, each birthday seems to carry with it the burden of expectations. 

Expectations of what I should be doing, what I should have accomplished, and what my life should look like as a woman of a certain age. 

Although today’s version of me is generally less concerned with expectations that I now realize were never mine to meet, as my birthday approaches, I inevitably feel myself deflate under the weight of all that I’ve lost, and all that I have not yet received.  

In order to combat this, over the past few years, I’ve taken to using my birthday as an opportunity to reflect, celebrate, and set intentions for the year ahead, similar to what many folks do to ring in a new year. This shift has helped me reconnect with myself during a time where my emotions can feel complicated and all consuming. It has also helped me view my goals and accomplishments in a way that honours me and my life cycle, rather than through the arbitrary constraints of the calendar year. 

My 37th lap around the sun felt tumultuous. There has been grief, anxiety, anger, shame, and sadness, but when I zoom out and look at the bigger picture, I can see that it has also been full of joy, love, accomplishment, connection, growth, and peace. 

This year held:

My first year of homeownership with my wonderful partner

My first solo road trip

My first international speaking opportunity

My first year of teaching jiu-jitsu to beginners 

My first Personal Training practicum student and sub-contractor

My first market

My second successful Self Care Day event

My second Wild Roses Festival as both attendee and presenter

My third stripe on my purple belt

Numerous learning opportunities

Countless moments of connection with clients and community

Deepening friendships and relationships

Invaluable opportunities to play, create, and be present

As I reflect upon all the good that came with this last year, it’s hard to reconcile it with the turmoil I felt at times, but the truth is, being human is complicated. The good does not wash away the bad, and in fact sometimes it exposes just how bad things really were, but if I’ve learned anything from this year, it’s that I have the capacity to hold a full spectrum of emotions and experiences, from great joy, to immense sorrow, and everything in between all at once, and that’s pretty fucking amazing. 

As I move through my next year of existence, I’m not chasing specific goals, or even trying to make the good outweigh the bad. Instead, I’m pursuing presence. 

Presence with others

Presence with my emotions

Presence in my experiences

Presence within my body

And while I’m sure that sounds great, you might be wondering what a practice in presence actually looks like? 

The truth is, I’m not one hundred percent sure, because it would likely look different for different people. 

What I have learned about myself in these 37 years however, is that presence is not something I can force, yet it can be easily disrupted.

I’ve tried for years to “quiet my mind” and “harness the flow state” by using things like meditation apps, focus timers, and following the guidance of others that seemed to have what I wanted, and sure, I’ve had some success. But the more I’ve grown to understand myself, and my unique nervous system, I’ve realized that I have to forge my own path to presence. 

Just like with exercise and eating, what works for one person, may not necessarily work for another. Instead of grabbing hold of the tools and strategies of others and running with them, expecting them to hold the key to a mindful existence, I choose to think of them as acute variables within the experiment of life. It’s up to me to test them, and determine if the results they yield are significant enough to warrant continued use. 

This year, when I sat down for my annual review, swiping through the photos and videos I accumulated between my birthdays, a few things became abundantly clear. Not only had there been so much to celebrate, I could also see the activities, actions, and environments in which I felt the most grounded and present. What I’ve realized, however, is that it’s not really the activity itself that facilitates this sense of embodiment in me, but rather how they make me feel, and what parts of me are engaged when I participate fully.

The things that seem to draw me most deeply into the present are the things that invite me to be creative, playful, curious, or engaged in problem solving. I feel present when I’m trying to figure something out, making something, learning something new, or moving in a way that allows me to experiment rather than perform. Jiu-jitsu does this for me. So does dancing, writing, puzzles, planning, and even some of the mundane problem solving that comes with navigating everyday life. Sometimes it’s as simple as putting on music while I move my body, listening to an audiobook while I walk, or finding a way to make an ordinary task a little more interesting. And when I can do these things outside, surrounded by trees, sunshine, or fresh air, even better.

I’ve also noticed that some of my most present moments have very little to do with what I’m doing at all, and everything to do with who I’m with. Playing with my niece, getting lost in conversation with a friend, laughing with my partner, connecting with clients, or sharing an experience with my community can pull me out of my head and into the moment in a way that no focus timer ever has. There is something about connection, and especially about feeling loved and known, that makes it easier to put down the things I’m carrying and actually inhabit the moment I’m in. And maybe this is why play has felt so important to me this year. When I’m truly playing, there’s nothing to accomplish and nothing to prove. I can just be.

But there is one more piece to this that I can’t ignore: safety. It is difficult to be present when some part of me is busy anticipating what might go wrong, managing uncertainty, or trying to protect me from something that hasn’t happened yet. Sometimes planning and preparing are the very things that allow me to let go and be present. Knowing that I have what I need, that I have somewhere safe to land, or that I have people I can rely on creates enough space for me to actually experience what is happening around me. Presence, I’m realizing, isn’t simply a matter of paying attention. Sometimes it requires having enough safety to stop looking for the exit.

So perhaps pursuing presence doesn’t mean learning how to be mindful every minute of every day, or finding the perfect practice that will finally teach me how to quiet my mind. Maybe it means getting curious about the conditions that help me get there. More creativity. More play. More movement. More connection. More opportunities to solve problems and learn and make things. More time outside. More love. More safety. And, perhaps most importantly, less pressure to do any of it perfectly.

At 37, I don’t think I need another list of things I should accomplish before my next birthday. I’d rather pay attention to the moments when I forget to count the years at all.