Keeping It Staffy

I like that I like Coach P., because the gym would be misery if I didn't.

I can honestly say that I love going to the gym. Even if my girls drive me mad. Even if practice is at 8 am and I went to bed at 3. Why?

1. It's gymnastics.
2. I love the girls.
3. I love my fellow coaches.

At fourteen, I began teaching at the gym I competed for. I'm not certain how legal this was, but I did obtain a special blue card from the nurse's office. Many of my teammates did the same. A few hated coaching and switched to jobs in retail and restaurants. Others stayed on. Often we worked side by side with our own coaches, glimpsing what it might be like for them when they coached us.

As a result, the staff became extremely close. We spent hours lounging around the gym or hanging out in the parking lot after classes and practice. Many a table filled with our breathren for half-priced appetizers.

Sure, drama ensued. About half the staff dated each other. Love triangles, break-ups, friendships tested when some coaches left for other gyms. But when we hit our stride, the chemistry was undeniable. The kids, the parents, everyone felt it.

We're not so inseperable at my present gym but we still enjoy each other. We're a little older, aware that we're focused on multiple life paths outside of the gym. We have our own lives, though John and Meghan and I often frolic in the gym after practice. And as the number one guardian against drama, nobody is dating anyone else.