One year ago today I was pacing the gym turf, checking my watch and re-reading the workout plan clutched in my sweaty hands.
A few people had RSVP'd for the first-ever Stroller Strong class, but would anyone show up? What if no one came? What if EVERYONE came?
One by one, the moms rolled in with their strollers. FIVE PEOPLE! I was elated. And ohhhhh shit people are here that means I actually need to lead this workout.
I AM IN NO WAY QUALIFIED TO DO THIS WHAT WAS I THINKING
But we did it! I thought it went ok, and I loved the moms that showed up. I hoped with every fiber of my being to see them again, while a small, cynical voice in my head laughed and laughed because of course they would see what an imposter I was and why would anyone PAY me for this?
The next day I was scrolling through Facebook while brushing my teeth when I got a paypal notification in my inbox. Payment received for Stroller Strong.
I shoved my phone in my husband's face. WOOK WOOK WOOK! AH GOB A CWIENT!!
And then later that day, another. And another. And then one more.
Four out of the five moms came back, and they're still training with me today.
Since that day so many new moms have joined us. Some have gone back to work. Some have had babies. Some are now pregnant! We've celebrated birthdays and powerlifting meets and worked out in ugly Christmas sweaters. We've made the dudes at the gym suffer through a Disney playlist. And an all-Britney playlist. And a 90s/early 2000s playlist with the very best music in the history of music by the Spice Girls, N*SYNC, and Backstreet Boys.
We grew from two class times a week to NINE. We lifted millions of beans. We lifted ALL THE THINGS. We squatted. And we squatted. And we squatted some more.
Kids that could barely crawl a year ago are now running and talking and attempting to deadlift more than their bodyweight. Babies that weren't even born now have full-fledged personalities and love being passed from person to person while their moms are lifting weights.
Last night twelve of us went out for cheese and chocolate fondue. As I looked around the table at these amazing women with different backgrounds, professions, goals, and numbers of kids, all chatting and laughing and commiserating, I thought to myself....this. THIS.
The dream that I've had for the last three years is not to be the most hardcore workout class. It's not to have the fanciest equipment or the trendiest programs or a big scoreboard tracking how many pounds we've collectively lost.
(Also, that last one? GTFO.)
I dreamt of this community. Of moms supporting moms, of having other people to lean on, people who have been there before or are right there in the trenches with you. THAT is what Fierce Mama Fitness is all about. And it's not because of me. It's because of these women, these resilient, courageous, STRONG women in every sense of the word.
Thank you all for an amazing year.