Session One
I blame my ADHD for what happened. I'm one of those people who has always been able to hyper focus when I really get into something. Whether it was a book or a video game or a conversation or...Or even working out. That focus is normally useful. And from a certain point of view, it was useful in this case.
I'm still not sure if I miss my mind or not. Maybe you'll be able to tell me what the right answer is. Whenever I try to make up my mind, I always seem to end up giggling.
It all started six months ago. I'd drifted into my thirties without really paying attention to it. I wasn't one of those vain women who was super worried about her age. I wasn't forever 'turning twenty-nine'. I didn't hide the fact that I was thirty-four, and over halfway to thirty-five.
The one thing I was concerned about was my health. My mother had died from a heart attack at forty-five, and her mom had barely lasted two years longer. I didn't want to find myself dead ten years from now, so I'd signed up with a local gym.
I'd been careful in my selection, just like I was with everything else in my life. I'd picked a women's only location. I wasn't really worried about being ogled by men, since at least part of the point was to get in better shape and look hotter. No, I just didn't want to show off my body at first, and other women wouldn't care. At least, that's what I thought.
I hadn't worked out systematically since high school. I didn't have the first idea about weight machines or cardio or anything. So, in what seemed like a reasonable move, I also opted to have a personal trainer. That's how I met Mis...Geneva.
Geneva. She isn't...that...outside the bedroom or the gym. I have to remember that. And not to giggle so much. I'm always giggling these days. I just can't help it.
Our first day, I'd worn beat up old sweatpants and a ragged t-shirt. I figured that they were perfectly acceptable. I mean, the point was to work up a sweat. Why drop hundreds of dollars on Lululemons or whatever when I was just going to get gross?
When Geneva first laid eyes on me, her expression was interesting. It was a mixture of things I'd never seen on the same face before. Part of it was obvious appreciation, which confused me. I wasn't five hundred pounds or anything morbid like that, but I had definitely let myself go after college.
Oh well
, I thought to myself.
Just because she likes women's bodies doesn't mean she can't be my trainer
. Physical appreciation or attraction didn't sound an instant red alert.
The other part was, oddly, reserved for my clothes. She looked at my ratty t-shirt and baggy, beat up sweatpants and grimaced. It was like I'd shown up wearing filth from the dumpsters out back. I felt both defensive and embarrassed. I was a natural people pleaser, and the idea that I'd upset my trainer before we'd even spoken two words caused the bottom to drop out of my stomach at the same time my cheeks heated in frustration.
Geneva was taller than me, two inches over six feet in fact. I shivered when I actually stood next to her. At five three, I felt a little like a child in an adult's presence. I also felt a little tingle of heat in my core. Tall people always made me feel hot inside. I loved being reminded of how petite I was. Not that I'd ever shared the fact with anyone.
Geneva held out her hand, replacing the look of mingled interest and disgust with a smile.
"Geneva Clark. You must be Mistiel?"
I nodded, sighing. I'd carried my name around like a fifty-pound weight my whole life. It was the lovely fallout of having had hippies for parents. At least I'd escaped the full ridiculousness of being named Sunbeam, like my older sister. Geneva pronounced it the way most people did who had only read it, over doing the syllables, turning it into 'Mis-Tee-El'. It was actually 'Mis-Teel'. I'd never actually managed to get either of my parents to explain just what they'd been thinking after I was delivered.
"Mistiel," I said, correcting her pronunciation. I took her hand, shaking it a bit limply. I'd never been much for strong handshakes. They always felt too aggressive.
"Nice to meet you, Mistiel. So, what I like to do the first day is pretty simple. I like to talk about what you're looking for from training for a few minutes, then do some basic exercises to see where your strengths and weaknesses are. Then, before our next session on Thursday, I'll put together a first phase plan for helping you meet your goals. Sound good?"
I nodded, smiling. That was way more than I'd had in mind. For some reason, I felt instantly safer with Geneva taking charge. It was a great feeling.
"Okay. So, what exactly are you looking for from this experience?"
"Well, my mom and grandmother both died before fifty of heart attacks. As you can see," I said, motioning to my slightly flabby body. "I haven't exactly been taking care of myself. I'm going to be thirty-five in a few months, and I didn't want to end up like them in ten years. So, I guess, lose some weight, improve my cardiovascular health, maybe build some definition. But, not like a body builder or anything. I just..."
I trailed off, suddenly feeling really uncertain about what I wanted. I looked up into Geneva's brown eyes, feeling secure just from gazing into their warm depths. Her red-brown hair bobbed in a perfect ponytail as she nodded, like she got this sort of aimless, confused response all the time.
"...You just want to improve your physical condition and health. That's the perfect place to start out from Mistiel. So many people walk in here with dreams of being the female equivalent of Ah-Nald, and realistically, very few normal people have the time to dedicate to really reshaping their bodies that way. Your initial goal is a great one. Tell me a bit about your diet."
I started to explain my busy schedule and crazy working hours at the marketing firm I was a VP of. She nodded along, her smile taking on a knowing quality. Clearly, she'd heard a spiel like mine hundreds of times, and was just waiting for what came next.
"...So, you know...It's a lot of take out, a lot of..."
"A lot of food from drive thrus, am I right?" She cut me off effortlessly, as if she could have had provided both sides of the conversation without my involvement. I nodded slowly, blushing. A slightly disappointed light had entered Geneva's eyes, and it felt like I'd just kicked a million puppies. For some reason, I never wanted disappointment in those warm chocolate eyes again.
"Well, Mistiel, I'll tell you right now, if you keep eating that way, there's only so much I can do. Even if you were to work out every single day, putting garbage into your body is going to severely undermine your results. Now, I can't force you to treat your body like the temple it is, but I can put together a suggested diet plan for you, along with your workout routine, if you want. It's part of what I studied in school."
Seeing an opening for a less fraught line of conversation, I leapt on her last sentence.
"What did you study? I always love hearing about people's majors. The ones that don't match people's lives always seem the most interesting to me."
Geneva smirked a bit at that, then shrugged.
"I may have to disappoint. I triple majored, in kinesiology, sports medicine, and psychology."
I blinked in surprise. You heard of very, very few triple majors, so I was definitely impressed. And that last course of study definitely qualified for the 'One of These Things is not Like the Others' game.
"Well, psychology doesn't seem like it..."
"...Fits. I know." Geneva cut me off again, seeming to have expected my response. "It does, though. If you understand how people think, you can more easily guide them into healthier habits. Verbal encouragement and training can only go so far. Really understanding how a subject processes information makes any program that much more effective."
I nodded. That sounded like it made sense. I shrugged, then looked at the workout machines that surrounded us.
"So, what's first, coach?"
Geneva gave a belly laugh at that. She looked down at me, her eyes glittering in an odd way. If I didn't know better, I'd have called the look 'hungry'. But that was ridiculous. I wasn't some sugary treat. And if I was, Geneva probably wouldn't touch me. Not with her body layered in toned, sleek muscle. She looked like she could run a million miles and not be breathing hard at all.
"First is stretching. We don't ever do anything without stretching. If you don't stretch out first, especially as a workout newbie, you are going to hurt yourself. Remember that Mistiel. No working out at all, whether it's here or at home, without stretching first. Got it?"
