I could teach a class without much thought but getting to this point was a huge eye opener for me, and not in the way I would’ve expected. I might have been able to walk into class and teach on the fly but as soon as class ended I’d have no idea what I’d taught for the past 50 minutes.
Classes became a blur and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was deeply missing something.
Teaching on auto-pilot turned into going through the motions. Going through the motions meant tuning out. And tuning out meant my mind was looking for things to busy itself with (I’m very good at keeping busy lol). So it went straight to all my old stories.
“You don’t know what you’re doing. How can you teach others when you don’t know anything?”
“No one likes your classes. They say so just to be polite.”
Listening to my very harsh, and very loud, inner critic meant I wasn’t showing up for my students. I was holding back. I was buying into all my fears.
Fears of no one showing up to my classes. Fears of not knowing what to do if someone came in with a health condition or injury I wasn’t familiar with. Fears of stumbling over my words in class or blanking on what came next. Fears of ultimately not being enough no matter how hard I tried.
I tried to pull myself out of it by doing what I do best, being a student. This meant lots of self-guided learning, pacing the aisles of Barnes & Nobles, and attending as many classes and workshops as I could find. And when everyone was thrown into the online space in 2020, I was signing up for certification after certification, a handful of which I have yet to finish and none of which made me feel any more sure of myself as a fitness professional.
My lightbulb moment:
What I was missing was staring me in the face the whole time. It’s the whole reason I fell in love with fitness, and particularly group fitness, to begin with.
The first puzzle piece was mindfulness.
For my own personal workouts, I’d always been drawn to the connection between mind and body in a workout. Even in non-traditional mind-body classes I’d try to add an element of mindfulness into my movement practices. Yoga was time for inner observation. Walking my dog was an opportunity to become aware of all the things happening in the present moment. Cycling was a chance to find myself in a flow state.
The other puzzle piece was community.
I was missing interaction with other fitness instructors. The ability to bounce ideas off of one another before class. The sense of connection and camaraderie when hearing someone else share they were facing the same fears I had.
Mentorship and coaching helped me get back in line with the growth mindset that preceded my fears and doubts. Working with a mentor and in a coaching container with other fitness professionals helped me find and embrace my own teaching identity, one where I didn’t need to “fake it” or mimic others I looked up to. One where my two fields, fitness and psychology, could merge into one. Thus The Mindful Fit Pro Coaching program was created.
It wasn’t until I started filling my own classes with acts of mindfulness and teaching from a place that honored my authentic self, that I no longer worried about being “good enough” for others. I know I’m enough.
With The Mindful Fit Pro Coaching, I help other fitness instructors facing the same fears I once had. I can share how mindfulness can impact not just your teaching but your life outside of the studio. I’ve created a space for fitness instructors to recognize their authentic self, teach to their strengths, and realize they are already incredibly talented.