THE PT CHRONICLES
PART 2
Cowboys, Croissants, and Romance
I start my career as a personal trainer and a Reformer Pilates Cowboy. Why Cowboy you ask?
Proper, authentic Pilates trainers take about a year or more to qualify. They put the bloody hours in, over a 100 to be exact, and they study the method from its origin right up until modern methods. No stone unturned. I learned in 6 weeks. I’m good but that’s cowboy behaviour. Don’t get me wrong. The Bootcamp Pilates trainers from 12 years ago were fucking brilliant. Dmitri the best Pilates instructor in London, Niko (oh, me), Jordi, Vikki, Ashton. They were amazing. They cared about technique and delivering varied classes.
Anyway enough smoke blowing. If you’ve ever done a Pilates class, whether it be reformer or mat, you know that they are slow, controlled, technical. It’s brilliant. But that slow bit bothered a 26-year-old Niko. I wasn’t having that. I’d spent 4 years in Cardiff drinking and dancing to RnB and Hip Hop, that was my character, and I wasn’t going to leave that behind. So that’s what I did…I made the place BOUNCE.
Barely wet behind the years, I cranked the volume up, played Flo Rida (cool to me), Taio Cruz, Usher, Ludacris, 50 Cent and the clients fucking loved it! I moved them faster, not fast but fast-er. It suddenly became a training session merely USING the Reformer. By the end of month one the word was out, some loudmouth cocky Welshman was packing the classes out with mega waitlists. It was electric. I’d found my skill. Entertainment and training.
In the meantime, because of the Pilates popularity my PT was growing but not as fast as I’d have liked. Remember I’m only about 2 months into a 12-year career. I needed to pay rent so I approached a successful PT who couldn’t fulfil all the enquiries that she was getting. Her name was Gina, she helped me and I’ll always be grateful.
The first client she gave me, P, can simply be described as a force of nature. When you first start as PT and you’re entering a very wealthy Lebanese woman’s house in Belgravia for the first time, you crap your pants (no, not literally). As you grow in your career, you develop conversational skills, confidence and the ability to chameleon your character for any given situation. At this point, I had none of these skills.
I sit down in her kitchen keen to show my ethos and skill level. She ran over me like a freight train;
“OK Niko, let’s walk to Hyde Park” P Ordered!
I obeyed. It’s weird if she did that now I’d have a hundred comebacks and I’d overpower here with confidence and ultimatums. But again, back then, I didn’t have the armoury. Off to the park, we strolled. Jesus…
When we got to Hyde Park we sat on the Serpentine, had coffee and croissants, she smoked 3 cigarettes and we walked home. I collected £80 and sauntered home not knowing what the fuck had just happened. Was I a PT? Felt like an escort for a second.
Weeks went by like this, smashing it a Bootcamp Pilates and failing as a PT. One day, I’m teaching in Bootcamp Pilates as this perfectly postured, beautiful, strong blonde woman walked in, Sophie. My GOD. I’d only ever had girlfriends who were just girls but this was a WOMAN. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I loved my job at Bootcamp and as much as Sophie captivated me, I wasn’t risking it…
…SHE EMAILED ME
Woooooooohooooo! I’m young remember, riding high on the dopamine in my brain from early Rockstar status at a top London studio. Did I deserve Sophie? I was working every hour I could and meeting someone was impossible. I replied.
We went for drinks and a very powerful romance started but a storm was coming…