Gym Whore or Advice-Giver?

I am a gym whore. I put out to work out! But today I wasn't so sure.

This morning I had a difficult time of separating my “role” (as Eckhart Tolle would call it) of "Dr. Gilda, Relationship Expert" from "Gym Whore Gilda." This is what happened. Cynthia is a beautiful thirty-year-old fitness instructor who has been running classes in several of the gyms I joined. So I know her story well. By day, she works in a hospital with cancer patients. (All these gym instructors have rich other lives than just the gym.) Her radiant smile tells you how dedicated she must be to the people she services. But during gym time, she’s in her other world, teaching 15 different classes at different locations, and sweetly befriending everyone. Cynthia is just pure sugar. She even has her girl groupies who take her classes, even if it means that they must travel out of their way to get to her.

Cynthia has known her boyfriend most of her adult life. Within the last few years, they bought a house together. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to marry him. Finally, after 10 years of dating, she decided she didn’t want to continue the relationship. In the locker room, while prettying herself for her day job, she explained, “I moved out of my mother’s house and into his. Now I need some breathing space.” I was delighted that she was thinking rationally. She still had the legal mess of the house ownership to go through. Without using an advising tone, I asked, “Are you seeing anyone else right now?” Smartly, she said she didn’t want to complicate her life with a guy at this time. She needed to find herself. I nodded approvingly. I became conscious that I could instantly jump into Dr. Gilda advice-giver mode, and I have promised myself to keep my gym life sacred and separate from my work life. I felt good that this gorgeous young woman I knew for many years was on the right track.

Just one day later, Cynthia had another groupie—but for the first time, this one was male. He met her at her car, he walked her to her teaching studio, and he kissed her good-bye in front of everyone! I chided her with, “Hey, girl, is that your latest?,” as though we had never conversed about this the day before. She smiled, “He could be a potential.” My bubble burst. She should not relationship-hop from one romance to another. This is the stuff I teach. This is the stuff I know. She NEEDS alone time. But I zipped my lip. It was my turn to grow now. Gilda, shut up, put on your iPod, get back to the equipment, and grunt!