One
Blair
“Ifyouwanttodo another Nickelback themed spin class, you’ll need to get at least six people to commit. Beforehand.” I lean forward on my desk, elbows resting on the paper schedule I’m drafting for the next month. “Do you have six people?” I ask the question even though I probably already know the answer.
“I have three,” Bella says, eyes wide and hopeful.
“Well, when you have three more, we’ll put one on the schedule.” My smile is sincere as I make some final notes based on our meeting and wait to see if she’s going to push back. When she doesn’t, a wave of relief hits me—as someone who despises rejection, it’s hard to also reject others.
In my defense, we tried the class twice, and each time it was Bella and one other person. It cost me money to simply have the class on the schedule and, unfortunately, I’m not in the position to hand out cash. Having six people attend would cover the cost of the instructor and that’s the best I can do.
Bella nods. “You got it.” She smiles, her blonde ponytail bouncing as she leaves my office.
Ember and Ashes is my dream come true. A gym focused on women feeling safe and confident. We offer a variety of classes and make sure there’s a strong emphasis on functional fitness. While the business is woman forward, everyone is welcome—as long as you’re not a creep or an asshole.
I open my laptop to finish the weekly financials. My stomach rolls, the same way it does when I look at the books, even though we’ve been open for three years. While we’ve slowly grown our memberships, we’ve always toed the line of making money. After paying me, which is always last, we typically have a little leftover to fix a piece of equipment, or save for when we need it, and when you run a small business, you always need it.
We’re killing it in vibes and attitude, even if we’re not in the bank account. I’m hoping this is the year I can really grow our revenue—take us to the next level. Which is why I can’t let Bella do another Nickelback spin class, no matter how bad I know she wants to.
My phone buzzes with a message:
Tyson
still on for tonight?
The smile that hits my lips immediately makes me feel lighter. I text him back.
Me
absolutely
considering we haven’t been able to get together since your move
meet you there
Tyson Bishop. We’ve been friends since college—we met informally when he saved me from an icy demise on campus and then formally at a student athlete mixer our sophomore year. But since he ended up in the NFL and on a team across the country, we haven’t seen a lot of each other.
Tyson was recently traded to the Upstate Cosmos—New York’s newest football team. He’s one of the best offensive tackles in the league and I’d be lying if I wasn’t thrilled he wound up in the same state as me. Gettingtraded has to suck, but I’m sure the contract of more than one hundred million dollars makes the sting more manageable.
When the finances are finished, I take my final lap around the gym. It’s a habit I’ve gotten into: look at how much money we’ve made or lost, then pause to take a moment and see what I’ve built. It’s surprisingly busy for a Tuesday, with many of the machines in use, and people filing out of spin classes or waiting for yoga.
This doesn’t suck.
I go to the front desk and take a seat just as Tiffany—one of my favorite people and our Embers and Ashes office manager—helps a new member get signed up. This feeling is better than hot coffee on a chilly morning, which is really saying something considering I view coffee as basically sacred.
I’m looking out through the floor to ceiling windows to the busy street. When it’s bustling with people, it’s fun to see patrons stop and peer in the window, or pause when they see our signage.
“I didn’t know this was an Athlala gym,” the new member says, while signing her paperwork. The excitement bubbling around her voice warms my chest and also makes me want to give her an aggressive high five.
Embers and Ashes is an Athlala sponsored company. College soccer didn’t bring me a career as a professional athlete like it did for Tyson, but it did bring me Athlala—an organization focused on gender equity in sports.
Without their support, I don’t think I would’ve been able to get this place off the ground. I won a grant and was able to pair it with years of saving every extra dollar to jump all the way in on being a small business owner.
Life changing. And I’ve loved every minute of it. No matter how stressful.
There’s no other situation where I’m sitting at the front desk of my own gym, with things I’m passionate about, watching people meander by on a picturesque street in Ashbury, right outside New York City.
The imposter syndrome typically rages but right now, there’s a little voice that says:it’s called a glow up, babe.
