Hey everyone, I hope you're all having an awesome weekend.  It's been hotter than R Kelly at the kids choice awards here in Portland this week; the last few days have ranged between 90 and 100 degrees, driving me from the "comforts" of my not air-conditioned home here in Tigard to any coffee shop or wifi hotspot that will tolerate the 4+ hour stints that I seem to pull in order to catch up on emails and other online work in the comfort of a cooler atmosphere.  I've been fortunate to escape any dirty looks from Portland's baristas, who still haven't noticed my tendency to overstay my welcome. 

The key is to rotate.

As some of you clients may know, my fiance, Shayna, has been out of town this week as well, forsaking the less than pleasant Portland heat to go style for a wedding in my home town of San Diego.  Quite the sacrifice I'm sure.

This means that I've been living the wild, bachelor lifestyle with my wingman, Louie.  It's been a great opportunity for us to bond by spreading our wings and discovering the town, doing man things like eating steak, watching Mel Gibson movies, and leaving our socks on the floor when we feel like it.  We're men, right? That's what we do.

Actually, it means that I've come home to an empty house, cooked for no one (less than rewarding), and rented one too many romantic comedies alone from Red Box. 

Man card is out of strikes for sure.  At least the socks thing is still true.  And I'm going to leave there as long as I feel like it because I'm the boss… Or at least until the day before she gets home, right honey dearest?

Anyways, about a week ago, I was fortunate enough to attend a meet and greet with my new friend, successful author, and fellow blogger Pamela Slim, whose book Escape from Cubicle Nation was a huge help for me when I first decided to make the decision to transition from corporate workhorse to the bundle of awesomeness that I am today.  She is an awesome lady and is genuinely passionate about her work and the people that she has helped along the way.

Pam and I got to talk for quite a while that evening and, after mentioning that I was a trainer and giving her the rundown on my own journey of weight loss and entrepreneurship, I became keenly aware of one of the side-effects of being in the fitness industry.

People treat trainers like nutritional priests.

No sooner than I mention that I'm a personal trainer, Pam and the others at the table with us begin listing their dietary sins, apologizing for not exercising within the last few hours, and seeking penance for their fitness misdoings.

Pam ate ice cream, Charlie Gilkey hasn't been as consistent with working out lately, another person had a cupcake that day.

I knew that people judged me based on the things I order (I had a turkey sandwich and an Americano, thank you), but apparently I have an innate power to make others feel guilty.

This isn't really anything new, however.  There is actually a woman I see regularly who makes a weekly habit out of seeking my forgiveness.  "Hi! How are you doing?"

"Oh, I had a muffin…"

"How was your week?"

"Trying to do my best. I only ran twice this week."

It's a vicious cycle. 

I would like to clear the air, however.  I don't typically walk around looking for people to chastise, nor am I keenly aware of the caloric content of every plate within a 2 mile radius, so your secret is safe with me.

No need to confess your cupcakes.

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