It was a tough day today. Woke up only to take another nap and spent a little too much time pondering the specifics of how my generation of millennial are in lack of mentors.

Thoughts to be tackled at a different time.

Yesterday I posted to the gym’s public page before training – “Ladies, you’re only one workout from a good mood.” So I went to the gym tonight despite myself.

Here’s what I found.

You can love yourself and change yourself at the same time. More often than not, I get so wrapped up in my own words, so intent on trying to sort everything out and find the big picture, I ironically lose sight the more I try to gain it. All thanks to this thing I fancy to be my ‘intelligence’.

So with lesser words, I just thought nothing when I entered the gym and started my work out. Let me deconstruct myself.


I have loved working out at a women’s kick boxing gym for the last 2 years. Strength is not defined by how hard you hit the bag – it is absolutely satisfying – but strength I found, was to inspire fellow women who works out with you and admires your form and technique.


As a trainer, I am far from perfect. I ate chocolates in bed at 1am last night. I said this to a woman who complimented my intensity when I performed my exercises and said she hopes to do the same soon. I told her you can absolutely transform yourself on the floor, because let’s be honest, you just feel bad ass doing so. And badassery tends to catch on.


But behind my wraps and gloves, behind those tight fists, I am also just a girl. Sometimes lost, led astray in my vision and I don’t feel like my own superhero as I’d fabricate in my head of kicking some cocky dude’s ass (come on ladies, someone tell me they do this too). Sometimes I forget what it feels like to be an example on the gym floor.


With my glasses back on, I can revert to being soft spoken and shy again. And it’s really such a shame to even temporarily forget the empowerment I’ve achieved with my gloves on.

This is the same girl that spent the better part of her day on the couch with her cat, watching Good Will Hunting as an elixir for feel good entertainment, and subsequently cried because she found so much of herself and people she knew in all the characters’ confusion in life.

Sometimes there’s just too much to work on and I ought to remember the basics. In kickboxing, altering just a small part of your stance and eventual execution elevates you from a new try-out status to someone in training. I observe women all the time in how to instruct better and give them pointers, and to be honest, even the best have things to work on. Naturally you don’t approach someone with a list of their shortcomings and tell them to simultaneously mind 5 alternative parts of their body while in midst of performing their exercise. At the least you wouldn’t expect them to catch on all 5 tips.

You tell them, “It’s okay, it is hard.”

So, simply stated, I just have to tell myself – it’s okay, life’s hard.

I put myself out here because this is the only way I know how to get things done – to be an example. Certainly there are plenty better photographs of extraordinary women kick boxers to be fetched from the internet, but what kind of trainer would I be if I couldn’t get through the same exercises?

I said in the beginning that this would be in lesser words, but here we are again in the 600 word counts while I worked through my wordy thoughts. Progress, right?