How to Complain

Last week I gave you my reason for complaining. .. every tiny detail.  Yes, I’m sorry that post was so long.  No, I will not go back and edit it to make it shorter.  In fact, before we get to the lessons I’ve learned I have a little more drama to share that accompanied my horrific experience with a personal trainer.

First, go back and read that post if you haven’t.  I’ll wait.

Okay, now that you’re balking with me, I’ll tell you why I had to wait TWO WEEKS  to complain.  As I mentioned, I left the gym that night absolutely fuming.  I actually stopped by the office to look for the staff person who manages the personal trainers, but since it was nearly 9:00 p.m., he’d long since left for the day.  Instead, I wrote message and left it on his desk: “Please give me a call as soon as possible.  I need to change trainers.”  I’m confident I was pressing so hard on that paper with that pen, that my anger was obvious to the reader.

This disaster occurred on a Thursday and when I didn’t hear back by Sunday, I assumed the weekend was interfering.  I called on Monday and left a message.  I called on Wednesday and left a message.  I left a written message at the front desk on Thursday.  I called on Monday and left a message.  I called on Tuesday and left a message.  Are you getting frustrated with me?

The funny thing is, the more my messages went ignored, the less angry I became with the trainer in question.  In fact, I went from inventing irrational reasons why she treated me so poorly (it must be because I was wearing a Citadel t-shirt and she was a female cadet there who was mistreated) to embracing rational reasons and finding peace with them (she’s an unhappy person and treating others badly acts like a bandaid for her).  I went from wanting  – no, needing – to see this woman dramatically fired in front of me to feeling a measure of pity for her.  I mean, she gets paid practically nothing to help people work out and it’s JANUARY meaning most of her “clients” hate her and will quit soon.

In short, my goal changed.  I no longer wanted revenge.   I wanted resolution.  And I’m so glad.

On Wednesday, after that last message, I went back to the front desk and stood waiting to be helped.  I was approached by a man who looked more-in-charge than the receptionist and who asked if he could help.

“I hope so,” I told him. ‘ I was hoping to talk with someone about changing trainers.  I’ve left five messages over the past few weeks and no one has contacted me and honestly, I just want to get set up with a new trainer and get this resolved.”

And so things were resolved.  The man apologized to me that no one had returned my calls and briefly discussed with me why I wanted to change trainers.  I simply told him that I had some concerns with how my session with Trainer J had gone and didn’t feel like it was a fit.  No bashing.  No tattling.  And in fifteen minutes, I had a new appointment with a new trainer.  I left the gym with a sense of peace and with the knowledge that the man who’d helped me was actually the gym’s manager who intended to rectify all the things that went wrong with my situation.  I had resolution and some wisdom.

  1. Cool down.  Even if only for a few minutes, resist the urge to lash out in anger.  Your anger sounds irrational or whiny (or both) EVEN IF it’s justified.  Irrational, whiny conversations rarely result in an ideal outcome.  It’s now been several weeks since my bad experience and I would honestly feel bad if I’d yelled at Trainer J or caused her to be fired.  I’m so glad I cooled down.
  2. Offer grace.  Pointing out a wrong is one of the most beautifully teachable moments there is.  You can offer punishment or grace.  I’ve found that people – especially adults – don’t respond well to reprimand, but if you can gently point out an offense and then forgive that offense you’ll right a wrong AND teach compassion.
  3. Pursue resolution and be prepared to ask for specific actions to bring it about.  When you’re treated badly it’s okay to expect the situation to be rectified in some way.  I’ve found it helps to have a realistic resolution in mind.  I told the gym manager that ultimately I wanted to get back into my training routine as quickly as possible and that I hoped messages would be handled better.  He responded by booking a new training appointment for me that same week and asking the reception staff to send messages directly to staff voicemails instead of taking hand-written notes (which presumably get lost).  See?  That feels better.
  4. But, don’t pursue revenge.  What if I had found the trainer’s manager that night at the gym?  I’ll be honest – I’d have tried and condemned that trainer, demanded refunds and public stonings and probably threatened legal action.  I may have given myself a reputation among the trainers (that woman is such a complainer – she will get you in trouble!).  I may have gotten Trainer J fired (in this economy?  Yeah, I’d feel bad.  What if she has kids?).  And if I’d been refunded my money and Trainer J had been publicly fired and the whole gym staff had been forced to serenade me with show tunes, I’d still be out of my training routine and I’d probably feel like a jerk.  And hey, God’s pretty clear no this one:   “Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.”” (Romans 12:19)
  5. Reward good behavior.   After all, we people are a lot like dogs: throw us a Scooby Snack and we’ll keep doing what you want.  When all was said and done, I wrote a note to the gym manager thanking him for listening to my concerns and helping me resolve the situation.  I was clear that I had been very disappointed, but equally clear that I was now happy and planned to offer the gym a clean slate.

Last week, I met with my new trainer.  He’s a really big scary guy.  He’s also extremely nice and polite, asked me tons of questions and spent a lot of time working to understand my goals.  He led me through a workout that left me sore for three days.  And I loved it.

A Reason to Complain

Two weeks ago I had a horrible customer service experience.  Two weeks ago I was ready to verbally crucify the people who gave me that experience to their boss.  Two weeks ago, there was a lesson plan for me about the way I deal with such situations.  In today’s post, I’ll share the back story – my reason to complain:

After getting married and moving to a new tiny town (or village, maybe?) my first order of business was to get set up with a gym because with out a treadmill, my stress will eat me alive.  The gym membership I chose included three free training sessions  so I set them up and went to the first two. They were GREAT.  Based on how great they were and on some newly set goals I signed up to see a trainer once a week with the understanding that this new trainer would be different from the one I’d already seen, but if I could change trainers at any time for any reason.  Thank goodness for that.

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SO.  I headed to the gym on the appointed day at the appointed time and hopped on the treadmill for a quick run.  I’d been told we’d be working arms, so I wasn’t worried about tiring my legs.  The appointed trainer was working with another client during my run and they seemed to be doing things I’d like to do, were smiling and friendly, and overall gave off a good impression.

So, I was a little take aback when to start our session this trainer sort of grunted and waved me over. No “Hi my name is___” or “Nice to meet you” or “You’re paying me so I’ll be nice”.  It was late, I decided, so maybe she was just tired.  She did ask me how far I’d run and when I said 3 miles she said “oh your legs must be pretty tired.” Well, yes, they were a little tired. And so, of course, she proceeded to start me on a series of weight-bearing exercises mostly focused on my quads.

Huh?

Thinking that maybe she knows something I don’t (she should, right?) I went along with it for a few moves.  My legs were tired, but I managed to push through the weight machine sets.  Then we moved to the mat for squats.  I think I heard her cackle.

That’s when I interrupted.  I told her my legs were now definitely fatigued and I wouldn’t have run (and by the way I was running for speed) if I’d known we were going to work that muscle group.  We had ten minutes left in our session so she said we’d just do a few to check form and then stretch.  Did I hear that cackle again?

Sidebar.  I’ve had years of dance lessons and professional fitness training and I’m a regular gym rat, so a squat is not an unfamiliar move to me.  I’ve had multiple trainers help me hone my form and while I’m never perfect, I know how to do a squat. 

Trainer J, however, has a different idea about this staple move.  By yelling vague instructions at me she managed to communicate that she expected me to form a 100 degree angle between my lower leg and my foot in order to properly do a squat.

Go ahead.  Get your protractors and put some sneakers on.  Try to make that happen.

Since most of you readers have a torso and a head, you’ll probably not be able to do such a squat and remain standing.  I couldn’t.  Funny enough, trainer J couldn’t either.

I fell.  Twice.  I actually tried so hard to do this “correct” squat that I pulled a muscle in my neck. When I told trainer J that her squat form made my neck hurt, she put her arm around a stranger who happened to be walking by, cackled and said “Well that’s the muscle we’re trying to work here, sweetheart.”

Right there as the word “sweetheart” came out of her mouth (in slow motion, because my memories like to be dramatic) I wanted to punch that little troll right in the mouth.

Instead, I walked to the locker room, gathered my things and left the gym.  I was fuming.  When I got home I recounted the story to The Gentleman (bless his heart) and then spent the next hour pulling up journal articles and professional association guides that explain the REAL way to do a squat.

My plan was simple:  I’ll deliver to Trainer J a folder full of evidence that the correct way to do a squat is not related to her way, pronounce “You’re Fired!” for all to hear and then file a complaint with her manager while securing a new trainer.  And I would have done all these things, but God’s too smart to let me walk into a gym full of blunt objects intent on teaching a lesson to someone who could probably crush me with a pinky finger.  So my calls to the manager went unreturned and I was left to stew for TWO WEEKS.

But this story has a good ending (yes, it does end.). Check back soon for a hard-learned “How to Complain”.  And, here’s how to do a squat…