Today I’m registering for an adult/child CPR course offered through our local Red Cross. Next week I’ll pick up a few textbooks and begin studying towards a certification as a group fitness instructor. A few months from now, I’ll be teaching my own Baby Boot Camp classes to a group of new moms who are looking to get back in shape.
I didn’t consciously set out on this path. I have been a Baby Boot Camp student since Drew was two months old. Since then, I’ve rediscovered that sweaty, sore muscled-feeling that I always loved about exercise, a feeling that fell by the wayside when I was pregnant. I’ve enjoyed meeting other moms, forming a network of acquaintances—and now friends–who I can share stories with, ask advice, and feel camaraderie with in this most challenging of jobs. Somewhere over the course of these past few months, though, I began to feel that not only could I handle the physical demands of the classes, but also wondered if I had the capacity to lead them as well. One night, over drinks, I asked the instructor how I could become a trainer myself, and the next thing I knew I was gathering information, looking up certification requirements, and mulling over testing dates.
It all feels so right to me. Since resigning from my corporate job, I haven’t felt any pangs of remorse. I don’t miss the grind, the excruciatingly long hours of what was often thankless work. I don’t miss passive aggressive email exchanges, office politics or the countless daylight hours I never saw because I was stuck in a fluorescent-lit, windowless office. The only thing I’ve really missed is the interaction with other people.
This new opportunity is all about interacting with people, and not only that but also helping them. I can help these moms achieve goals and feel better about themselves. I can help them to feel empowered, inspired and connected at a time in their lives when it’s easy to feel weak, discouraged and alone.
And if I’m being honest, this opportunity, of course, is about me. I can prove to myself that I can still be ambitious and achieve goals while also being a mom. I am a mom, yes, but I am also still a person separate and outside of that. Maybe this is a little bit of insurance. There will be a day in the not too distant future when Drew won’t need me so much. When he won’t whine for my return every time I disappear into the kitchen. There will be a day when he gets on a big yellow school bus and rides off towards his own day, separate from me. Maybe that day it’ll be a little easier for me to watch him go because I’ll have my own day to get to.