I'm at the gym. I'm actually on the bike, believe it or not. Minutes before I went into my last personal training session, I received some devastating news about a client. He went into the hospital two days ago, and is now in hospice. His daughter says he's fighting, and she told me how strong he is - and she thanked me for that. His name is Steve, and he and his family have come to mean a great deal to me.
I started working with Steve at the very beginning of the year. He was a referral from a friend who cleaned his house. I got along with him right away. I got to know his daughter and a little bit about their relationship. She wanted to help him get stronger, however she could.
The thing with Steve was that he had spinal surgery right before the pandemic and therefore wasn't able to get the physical therapy he needed immediately afterwards, until a significant amount of time had passed. We had to be careful with him. He worked with a physical therapist on neck and back strength, and we would train at the gym once a week. I would meet him at his car in the parking lot, and once we made our way inside, we'd walk a little on the track. From there, we would work on different machines, and then walk a little more and practice balance and stability in between. After the workouts, we'd always sit in the lobby for about 10 to 15 minutes so he could rest and drink water. We'd talk about his career and his travels. We talked a lot about cats. He was clearly so proud of his daughter, so I got to learn a lot about her. Once he was ready, I would assist him back to his car and off he would go. We did this for about six months or so. After some health issues, his needs changed, so I started training him in home. I would meet him where he was at, and we would do what he could do. Often times it was in a chair, with his cat on his lap, but every so often we'd take his walker out and around the block. Most recently we have been working on increasing his upper back and core strength so he could hold himself more upright whilst using the walker.
Upon getting the news, thankfully, I was able to hold myself together to train my last client. After all, this client, whom like Steve, is training with me because her daughter encouraged her to. She's a senior with knee issues and balance problems. They needed me today. I put that much more of my heart into the session, knowing what it would mean to them.
When I finished, I got on the bike because it was the only thing I could think of that would allow me to feel, process, and work through this sadness healthily. I wanted to disappear to a place where I could cry. I felt like sobbing - for Steve, for his daughter, for his wife - for his cats even. I wanted to cry for my dad. My dad passed away in February, not long after I started training Steve. I took a week off to do the things people do during times like this, and in the meantime, Steve called and left me the most kind and heartfelt message, expressing his condolences. He told me how sorry he was, and I could hear the tears in his voice. I barely knew him yet, but he cared about me and he cared that I was grieving. So, today, instead of hiding and breaking down, I told myself I would do the thing that made me feel strong. I would do it for Steve, because if he could have done it when he was healthier, he would have.
This isn't the first time I've dedicated a workout to someone. I do it frequently in fact. On the days when I'm really struggling with motivation, and my own needs might not be enough to push me to take that first step, I think of those who can't. I think that if I couldn't, I would wish I could. So, I celebrate what my body can do and I appreciate it more than ever. It has taken working with, caring for, and even loving people who were debilitated and unable to do things they once took for granted, for me to really be grateful for my strength. After all, we don't know until we know. We are lucky, if at that point, it's not too late to make a change. So, on the days I can, I do it to make up for the days I can't - for the people who can't. Today, I did it for Steve. My heart is with his family.
Steve was so lucky to have you. ❤️