So tell me if you’ve had the same experience, but I tend to do my best when I’m at least partially terrified of my teacher, my coach, my instructor — you know, whoever.
That’s a bit of a joke, and maybe I’m laying it on a little thick, but for me it has broadly held true. Whether it was formal schooling, playing sports, or being in the academy for my federal government job, I’ve almost always done my best when my instructors were — maybe not scary — but at the very least demanding. When they set really high standards and expected you to meet them. When they had little to no tolerance for excuses, exceptions, or special treatment.
I had a professor in graduate school who gave such an intimidating first-day-of-class “here’s what to expect” speech that when we came back the next day, half the class had dropped. And they weren’t necessarily wrong — she was really tough. She assigned a lot of reading. She expected that you read all of it. And she would ask questions, and follow-up questions, and follow-ups to the follow-ups that would immediately expose you if you hadn’t done your work.
It was really tough. But I loved it, and I learned a lot.
So my coaches and I were in our weekly coaching development meeting yesterday, and we had a long discussion about this — about what our responsibilities and roles are as coaches, and about how often we get stuck somewhere between a customer-service mentality and a development-and-growth mentality. Because coaches aren’t just programmers or performers or group-class air-traffic controllers, even though we do wear all of those hats at different points.
At our essence, our job is to help our clients build healthier, more capable, more vibrant lives.
It isn’t just about helping clients achieve their goals — because what if they have no goals, or their goals are totally unrealistic? We have to do more than that. We have to help clients determine what they want, and then dig deeper into what they really, really want. And we have to balance that with what is actually possible.
Then comes the part most people think of as the whole job: program design, in-person coaching, movement demos, cueing, correcting — all the hands-on exercise-science parts of what we do. And yeah, that’s really important.
But just as important — maybe even more important — is making sure our people are staying on track toward the goals we’ve worked with them to create. It’s not enough to load them into the car, fill it with gas, and wave as we fade into their rearview mirror. We basically need to follow them in a support vehicle and make sure every breakdown is handled as quickly as possible so they can get back on the road to where they’re going.
So yes, we need to make sure our programs are good, that our coaching is great, and that we’re celebrating our clients’ successes and showing them their progress. But what about when they aren’t doing great?
To continue the car analogy — what do we do when they purposely, inexplicably, accidentally, or repeatedly drive their car off a cliff for the third time that month?
Just like in real life, it can be really hard to have hard conversations. It can be hard to tell people when they’ve missed a mark or come up short. But we have to do it. As coaches, that’s doubly true. People are paying us to do it — even when they don’t actually realize that’s what they’re paying for.
Because, like I said at the start, most people respond better when expectations are clearly set for them, and when there are consequences if those expectations aren’t met. And we as coaches would never set expectations for our clients that we didn’t believe they could meet. We believe in them.
I wouldn’t say this is easy with a one-on-one client, but it is easier than doing it with one individual inside a larger group or group class. A one-to-one coach-client relationship is inherently more intimate, whereas in a group setting things are broader.
Further complicating things is that in any group setting, individual behavior can impact other people’s experience and the group vibe as a whole. That doesn’t mean we should avoid these conversations. In fact, it makes them more important, because someone’s failure to meet a group expectation may be affecting not just them, but everyone around them.
What do I mean by behaviors that affect the group? People showing up consistently late or unprepared. People not paying attention or talking while the coach is coaching. People failing to bring intentionality — or even effort — to their movement. Any number of things.
These obviously affect that individual. They get in the way of that person getting the most out of their precious training time. But they also likely affect the people next to them.
And it is our responsibility as coaches to communicate expectations and hold collective boundaries with those people too.
I mentioned this earlier, but when we’re in a customer-service business, we often overcorrect because we never want people to feel negative feelings. But we’re not a restaurant. Our responsibility to our clients extends far beyond the hour they’re in the gym. It repeats day over day, year over year.
Because of that, we need to be more honest. We need to be more invested. And sometimes we need to risk short-term discomfort for long-term growth.
So if you’re a Lumos member, we’ve got some things in the works that better reflect these principles. And if that announcement fills you with a little bit of dread — a little bit of “oh no, are they talking about me?” — that’s probably a good thing. We hope it sharpens you. Focuses you. Makes you show up just a little bit better.
We will always treat every member here with love and respect. But we’re not just in the business of giving you a fun hour a few times a week. We’re trying to help give you a long, happy, vibrant life.
And sometimes that takes honest conversations and high expectations to make it happen.
