New Chapter

Hello again, everyone! I know it’s been a hot minute since I posted — more like two years (sorry about that) — but I’m back. So, let me bring you up to speed. I finally submitted my graduate thesis with one day to spare. Technically, I am waiting on a few signatures so I can rush to Staples and print the final copy for binding. Typical me, leaving things until the last minute.

I never thought I would go back to school, although I often toyed with the idea. I was convinced fitness was a lucrative business, one in which I could climb the ranks and achieve a somewhat celebrity trainer status in New York City. In other words, a trainer who teaches peak slots and sells those slots out. And I was doing it until COVID struck...

As you may recall, Wednesday, March 11th, 2020, marked the day the coronavirus was officially declared a pandemic. Purell was on backorder, and if you were lucky, you could snag a bottle for upwards of $100 on Amazon. Everyone started working from home (WFH), and corporations sent company-wide emails breaking down proper sanitation procedures. Fitness classes began operating at half-capacity, then less-than-half capacity, then zero. Memes circling the web only propelled the terror. Masks were becoming the latest fashion accessory. We were about to go into lockdown. Although it feels like a lifetime ago, back then, like everyone in New York—and the rest of the globe—I was stuck in a new, endless limbo. We all tried to keep up with the new world order. 

The government deemed all gyms and boutique fitness studios unsafe, putting me and 98% of my company (Flywheel Sports) out of a job overnight! Many industries, particularly performance and service, and the entire stock market, began to decline. I did what I could — what anyone could — and began adjusting to a virtual world. My Hunter professors taught my MFA classes over Zoom, and gyms were still not open. Of course, companies like Peloton were making a killing, and many people adjusted to the at-home workout lifestyle. I grew restless, and although I still had clients online, I missed the energy of instructing live.

COVID has been rough for everyone — we all lost jobs and suffered disturbing human casualties. I and so many others felt the world spinning out of control for a while. Finally, after weeks, turned months, turned years of living in recluse in 2022, life as we once knew it is slowly coming back. That is, of course, barring the new variants that keep popping up faster than we can name them, compounded with an impending WWIII and the looming potential revokement of women’s rights. While this “new normal” isn’t a pleasant one, it’s essential to keep up with healthy outlets of expression.

Upon re-reading my last entry, ‘Fitness Before and After Coronavirus (BC/AD),’ I wanted to update you on the fitness world and perhaps alter some of my previous statements. I wrote, “studio workouts are a thing of the past.” At that moment in time, September 2020, that was momentarily true. I also wrote: “group fitness will never be the same again, and neither will getting a job as a fitness professional.” In some ways, that remains true. Classes still, to this day, do not occupy spaces to the max. COVID regulations are still at play. But, the joy of being physically together in a room could never be replaced by online alternatives; it’s simply unparalleled.

My prayers were answered (sort of), and I began teaching spin again at Comeback Cycle, a company founded by two ex-Flywheel instructors. The premise of the workout: a regular spin class, only outside on a roof. Comeback Cycle gave devoted riders the chance to ride together again and instructors the opportunity to escape the monotony of two-dimensional workouts. Disclaimer: I am not shitting on the Peloton. I, too, caved and bought one. But, nothing beats the feeling of riding in person. Technology cannot mimic the sense of camaraderie on-screen: face-to-face interaction will always be stronger than tech-to-tech. I had riders come to my class in 19-degree weather! No matter mother nature’s conditions, rain or snow, riders showed up. Teaching those classes reminded me not just how dedicated people are to fitness but how much we all crave human connection.

When Cyclebar, a nationwide cycling franchise, opened its doors in New York City, I jumped at the chance to audition. I zoomed through training and now am almost at my one-year mark! At first, masks were required while riding the bikes, and the room was set to less than half-capacity. As the months passed, the number of stationary bikes in the studio doubled, then almost tripled. Masks were no longer required. Last Tuesday, I had a room full of forty riders in my 6:15 pm class in NoMad — we love a shameless plug ;). Everything feels the same. Except, it’s not the same at all.

While the energy of the indoor experience is slowly returning, I am not the same person I was two years ago — none of us are. Pre-pandemic, I was teaching fourteen classes a week. FOURTEEN forty-five minute intensive cardio sessions PER WEEK. My body ached constantly, and I barely had a voice. I would often dread going to work because I was so. Damn. Exhausted.

Being in quarantine gave me the chance to slow down. To rethink. To realize that maybe burning thousands of calories on a bike a week was not great for my body or mind. I love being on the podium, and I’m not ready to give that up. I am ready, however, to begin a new chapter.

Fast-forward to now, where what used to be my full-time job has become more of a part-time gig. Currently, instead of teaching fourteen classes a week, I teach four. I look forward to each session because I have stopped feeling the inevitable instructor “burnout.” Now, I am more focused on being a writer, too.

So, I’m starting over. I’m pivoting from one industry into something completely different. In addition to fitness, I have dedicated the past two years to pursue a degree. It seems surreal to me, but I will have completed my Master’s in Creative writing in a few short weeks. So, now what?

In my quest for a new career, I changed my LinkedIn picture to a fully-clothed Sarah Ballan instead of a sports bra Sarah Ballan. While this new chapter is exciting, it’s also terrifying. I’m scared people won’t like the way I write. Perhaps, they won’t like the content, which would suck because I’m writing a memoir (no spoilers here, sorry). But writing is my way of connecting with people. I write to express myself. I can’t promise I will write on this blog every day, but here’s to making it a weekly endeavor. I have to start somewhere.