One door closes; another opens.

So yes I went into mourning. It was my third loss (of different kinds and proportions) this year and that was it! The mere mention of my trainer's name or the fact that he was leaving brought on copious amounts of irrational tears. Even in the middle of a session I would suddenly look at him and start to cry. This lasted a month. And then he called to say he had found someone for me to replace him and that I should call and make an appointment. I called C. and made an appointment for a few days away, deciding that rather than make an appointment to chat, we should actually work out together and I could see a) if what he did was what I needed b) if we 'clicked' at all (you have to click w/ a coach or trainer or it just does not work and c) if I could survive an hour which was his preference rather than 1/2 an hour which I was used to. And yes I liked what he did, I liked him and I survived the hour even though I cried when I got home. You see spending three half hours or so a week w/ someone and chatting w/ them afterwards for two years...........who else do you spend that much time with?....you get to know them well and they you. N. had seen me through some very sad times in my life and was coach/trainer/supporter/friend. The loss was great. But one door closes and another opens and I found trainer heaven once more.

The value of telephone poles and lamp posts

So two years ago I decided that I needed to tighten up a body that was showing signs of acknowledging its 60+ years. As it happened a friend of mine was walking her dog one day and saw a sign on a lamp post that said: 'LOST. My entire New Zealand clientele. Personal trainer looking for new clients'. So she took the phone number, called him and then called me. Many emails from her later, I finally called this trainer. After our first session, I knew I had found nirvana. We started with two one half hour sessions a week and moved to three to help me banish the winter blahs. Two years went by in a flash; I lost inches off my already petite frame and went down one full size. My legs tightened, my arms took shape, my face thinned out. A fitness obsession was born. And then came the news. My trainer accepted a job in another city and would be moving in four weeks. I went into mourning.