Your personal trainer might be the best, brightest and most professional fitness expert in the world. Or he might not. It has been my experience, unfortunately, that the latter scenario is much more common than the former. The problem with the fitness industry is that it’s chock-full of embarrassing people. So, how do you know if your personal training program is being managed by a professional? Well, here’s how to tell if it’s not:
1. The Military Connection
If your trainer wears dog tags and camouflage, but has never actually served any time in the armed forces, you have a problem. I know there’s this whole boot camp/drill sergeant theme that trainers think is really catchy, but it’s not, it’s just embarrassing. It shames us all. And if you HAVE actually served time in the military, then what are you thinking? Don’t desecrate the honor of your uniform by wearing it while screaming at housewives to do more burpees. When you go to your attorney’s office is he dressed up like John Adams, powdered wig and all? God, I hope not. Is there any call for your trainer to wear a costume to work? Sir, no sir!
2. The Diva
Does your trainer go by a single name, like Blaze or Hammer? This is a classic tool-move. I know we’re in Hollywood, dude, but you’re not Cher. Unless you’re singing the occasional power ballad between costume changes, stick to the name on your driver’s license.
3. The Performer
Is your trainer’s headshot on the wall at the gym? Really? Why? Is he SAG/AFTRA? Did he do a national peanut butter commercial? I don’t care, what does that have to do with training? I’m fully aware that in this town I can spin around seven times, throw a tennis ball in any direction and I’ll either hit an actor or a trainer (or an actor/trainer), but I don’t need to be reminded of that! Take the headshot down, buddy, you’re not ready for your closeup.
4. The Stripper
And then there’s the trainer who applied for a job and, as evidence of his credentials, lifted up his shirt and said, “This is what I’m bringing to the table.” True story. Joe and I are still laughing about it nine years later. Nice abs, bro, but next time just fax your resume. If you’ve ever seen your trainer’s abs, and you weren’t at a beach party, you’ve seen too much.
Does your trainer bill himself as a “Trainer to the Stars?” Does he talk about the celebrities he works with? First of all, just because some guy who had three lines in a Pauly Shore movie in the early 90’s did an intro session with you at LA Fitness does not mean that you qualify as a “celebrity trainer.” And, even if you do, does this make you good? Folks, celebrities are just as gullible as we are. The only real skill to which “celebrity trainers” can lay claim is the ability to convince rich, famous people to pay ten times as much per hour as you’re paying. Stick with a no name trainer. You’ll get a fair rate, and he won’t dump you every time Gwynneth Paltrow’s in town for a shoot.
6. The Trainer Who Has a Picture of Himself on His Website Shirtless on a Motorcycle or On The Beach in a Banana Sling
There are no words. This guy makes me tell people at cocktail parties that I’m a lumberjack.
7. The Old-Schooler
Does your trainer still have “body part days?” You know, Mondays and Wednesdays are Back and Arms Days, Tuesdays and Fridays are Chest, Shoulders and Legs Days, etc.. That’s great if you’re only planning on using those parts on certain days, but most of us use our whole body every day, so why are you only training bits of it at a time? Are you a bodybuilder? No? Oh, you’re an Account Executive. So, you spend most of your day sitting in the car and sitting at a desk and then your trainer has you sit on a bench and do heavy biceps curls, overhead triceps extensions and military press while screaming “Big Arms!” at you? That’s cool, I’m sure you have no need to be able to actually walk upright or move dynamically, so……
8. The Machinist
Your trainer moves you around from one machine to another, counting to 12 along the way? I hate to tell you this, but that’s not “training.” There’s no actual instruction occurring there. Yeah, yeah, yeah, he sets the weight and tells you to do it slower or faster, but I have a question for you: What is the essential purpose of a machine? And not just weight machines, but any machine (a dishwasher, a chain saw, an automobile). The essential purpose of a machine is to simplify a task. To minimize the amount of effort you actually have to invest in an action. Does that sound consistent with the purpose of exercise? If you answer “yes,” then you need to reconsider your view of exercise. Technology has reduced the need for human movement so much that we are disintegrating as a species. 100 years ago we toiled in fields, hunted for food, chopped wood for the fire. Now, we do nothing. Don’t go to the gym and do more of the same. You’re there to undo your inactivity, and your “trainer’s” job is to make sure that happens. Making you sit on an apparatus and push or pull isn’t exercise, nor is it training, it’s just a quick and easy way for him to make $95/hour without benefiting you much at all.
This, of course, is my opinion only. You may have an amazing trainer who goes by the name of Snake, wears camouflage, has his head shot on the wall, regularly rides his motorcycle shirtless and employs a systematic, progressive and effective protocol. There are exceptions. But, when working with your trainer, ask yourself:
1. “Does he make everything about himself, or about me?” 2. “Is he actually coaching and instructing, or just clock-watching?” 3. “Is this a guy who’s passionately dedicated to this as a career, or is he just punching in on a clock on his way to his “real job?”
Because if the answers to the above questions are:
1. Himself 2. Um, the second part 3. Punching in and out
Then I have some bad news for you; your trainer is a tool.
Jonathan Aluzas is the owner of Arena Fitness, a personal training, semi private training and group exercise facility in Encino, Ca.
