CPTN Career Stories

CPTN Career Stories
Real trainers. Real Careers. Lessons worth sharing.

DOMINIQUE KEUTHEN, CPTN-CPT

THE UNEXPECTED VICTORIES

When Dominique Keuthen thinks back over a personal training career that began in the summer of 1998, there isn't one defining moment.There are dozens.She calls them “nuggets.”

Attending her first fitness conference and learning about periodization from Tudor Bompa.
Discovering just how important clear, concise communication becomes when you're trying to explain an exercise to another human being.
Learning anatomy well enough to understand the difference between muscle action and muscle function.
And learning to balance what a client wants to do, what they need to do, and what their body is actually capable of doing.

Nearly three decades later, Dominique has watched equipment change, training methods evolve and new generations of experts and influencers arrive with new ideas about how people should exercise.But underneath all of it, she says, some things haven't changed.

The human body still moves the way the human body moves.Do too much and you risk injury.Do too little and reaching the goal can take unnecessarily long.

Some principles simply stand the test of time.“Respect them,” she says.

But when Dominique talks about her favourite moments as a personal trainer, she doesn't talk about periodization.She talks about something else entirely.

The Results Nobody Planned

There was the mother whose knees hurt.Her training had a purpose. There were goals to work toward and exercises to complete.But then something happened that wasn't written into the original plan.She realized she could chase her four-year-old son around the house.Her knees no longer hurt.Her stamina had improved.And suddenly, fitness wasn't something measured in repetitions or kilograms.It was measured in the ability to play with her child.

Then there was the client whose wife discovered an unexpected benefit of her husband's new exercise routine.He stopped snoring.She was delighted.

And there was the deconditioned client who didn't fully appreciate how much his physical capacity had changed until an ordinary moment made it obvious.He stood up from a chair.Then realized he hadn't needed to use his arms to push himself up.No fitness test.No stopwatch.No personal record written on the training sheet.Just a person getting out of a chair.And realizing something had changed.

Those are the moments Dominique remembers.

The Ah-Ha Moments

Why have those particular memories survived nearly three decades?

Dominique believes it's because they were “ah-ha moments” for her clients.

They suddenly discovered that all those workouts had changed something beyond the goal they had originally set.

Dominique prepares clients for that possibility.When someone tells her they want to get stronger, she doesn't stop at stronger.She asks what they want to become stronger at.What would being stronger allow them to do in everyday life?

Connecting the training goal to real life gives clients something meaningful to monitor.But then, every once in a while, something happens that neither trainer nor client was specifically watching for.An ordinary activity suddenly becomes easier.Something that used to hurt doesn't.Something they couldn't do before happens without thought.

Dominique calls these the “unexpected victories.”

And after nearly three decades of coaching, those are some of the victories she remembers most.

Learn to Notice the Small Things

Sometimes the wins are even smaller. Dominique smiles when she sees a client performing an exercise and suddenly self-correcting their own technique. To an outsider, almost nothing happened. To an experienced trainer, quite a lot happened. The client learned.

Something that once required coaching has begun to become their own. Perhaps that's one of the things that changes when you've coached people long enough. You become better at recognizing progress that doesn't announce itself.

Trust Comes Before Coaching

Dominique has also learned that effective coaching depends on something that can't be rushed: Trust.

She is honest with clients while remaining respectful, and she establishes expectations from the beginning. But she doesn't start only by telling clients what she expects from them. She asks something they often don't expect: “What do you expect from me?” Then she explains what they can expect from her—and what she expects from them. It's a simple conversation, but an important one. It helps both people decide whether the relationship is a good match. Because personal training isn't simply a program delivered by one person to another. It's a working relationship. And good working relationships need clarity.

Keep Learning. Stay Curious.

After nearly three decades in the profession, Dominique's advice to newer trainers is simple: Keep learning.

She was fortunate to discover her niche relatively early in her career and pursued education related to it.

But perhaps even more important than accumulating courses is maintaining curiosity.

One question produces an answer. And, as Dominique points out, that answer will probably produce two more questions.

That's the work. Learning. Questioning. Observing. Adjusting.

And gradually understanding that while the fitness industry will continue to change, good coaching is often built upon principles that don't.

Training Is Part of Your Life

There is one final lesson in Dominique's story that may be particularly important for someone beginning a career in fitness.

Training has always been part of her life.

But it doesn't define her.

She's grateful for what the profession has given her and appreciates the role it has played in her life. But she doesn't consider it more—or less—important than the other things she values.

Perhaps longevity in this profession isn't only about becoming a better trainer. Perhaps it's also about understanding where being a trainer fits within the rest of your life.

After almost three decades, Dominique remembers the conferences, the lessons, the principles and the education. But some of her favourite memories aren't really about exercise. They're about a mother chasing her little boy. A man getting out of a chair. A client quietly correcting their own technique. Small moments when someone suddenly realizes: I can do this now.

The program produced the expected progress. But life revealed something more. The unexpected victory.

NEIL FOX, B.Kin, CPTN-CPT.M

WHEN THE COACH BECAME THE CLIENT

Neil Fox knew the human body. He had studied kinesiology at McMaster University. He had worked with elite athletes. He understood strength and conditioning. And by 2002, he had already spent years helping other people become stronger and perform better.

Then, suddenly, the body he needed to understand was his own.

The Accident

Neil was mountain biking when he suffered a catastrophic accident. He was left quadriplegic. The outlook he received was bleak.But Neil began the long process of recovery. Eventually, he regained mobility.

Then he did something even more remarkable. He returned to competitive racing.

For someone whose identity had been built partly around movement and athleticism, it was an extraordinary comeback. But Neil was still an athlete. And athletes know how to push. Sometimes too well.

When More Wasn't Better

Neil wanted his strength back. So, he attacked the problem the way an athlete might.He pushed. Hard. Too hard.Eventually, he threw out his lower back.

This time, there wasn't one catastrophic moment followed by a clear path forward. There was pain. And questions.

For six months, Neil searched for answers. He attended continuing education courses and fitness conferences. He studied back dysfunction. He tried to understand what was happening and why.Gradually, pieces began to come together.

Neil developed what he calls the BAM system: Bum, Abs, Mid-back—an approach centred on building a stronger support system around the lower back while allowing people to remain athletic.

But what Neil discovered during that period went beyond an exercise system. His experience changed the way he understood coaching.

The Body Isn't a Machine

Before the accident, Neil viewed the body much like a complex machine. When an athlete came to him with an injury, he believed that identifying the mechanical problem and applying the appropriate intervention—perhaps stretching one muscle or strengthening another—would produce a relatively predictable, step-by-step recovery.

Then Neil became the person trying to recover. And the model no longer seemed quite so simple.

“Recovery is rarely a straight line.”

Neil experienced setbacks. Compensation patterns. Days when his body simply didn't respond the way he expected it to. He began to understand pain as something far more complex than a broken component waiting for the correct mechanical fix.Recovery, he learned, required constant adaptation. Micro-adjustments. Communication. And patience.

That realization changed the relationship he now has with clients experiencing pain.Rather than assuming a program should simply work as prescribed, Neil communicates continually.

Is the client still experiencing discomfort?
Are the exercises being performed as intended?
Does something need to be adjusted?
Does an exercise need to be changed?

He has also incorporated what he calls a posture inventory, looking at clients' everyday habits alongside their exercise programs.

The coach who once expected a relatively predictable recovery trajectory had learned to become comfortable with something much less predictable: The person in front of him.

Patience Over Brute Force

Looking back, Neil identifies one lesson above many others:

“Progress requires patience over brute force.”

That's a striking lesson from someone whose athletic background had taught him how to push.

Recovery taught him something different. The body doesn't always respond to more. Sometimes progress requires listening. Adjusting. Understanding the whole person rather than simply attacking the problem. And respecting the time adaptation requires.

Neil also came away from the experience with something that can't be learned quite the same way from a textbook.

Empathy.

He knew what it was like to hurt. He knew what it was like to search for answers. He knew what setbacks felt like from the other side of the trainer-client relationship. His experience, he says, moved him from “an athlete simply teaching strength, to a healer who truly understands pain.”

A Different Kind of Coach

Neil's coaching changed.

He narrowed his focus toward mature athletes. The objective shifted from aesthetics toward athletic longevity.

His programming increasingly incorporated multidirectional and unilateral training. He began thinking about movement through concepts such as tensegrity and anchoring his approach around the BAM system. But perhaps the biggest change wasn't technical. It was perspective.

Neil had spent years looking at movement through the eyes of a kinesiologist, trainer and athlete. Now he could also see it through the eyes of someone who had experienced serious injury, recovery, setbacks and pain. That combination eventually helped define his niche.

In 2003, Neil founded Life Works Personal Training, focusing his work on active adults over 50 who want to remain athletic and continue doing the things they love.

Find Where You Add the Most Value

After 29 years with CPTN, Neil has several pieces of advice for newer trainers.

Niche down to where you add maximum value.
Educate yourself in the areas you're passionate about.
And perhaps more importantly, aggressively educate yourself in the subjects where you're weak.

Neil's own niche wasn't invented as a marketing exercise. It grew out of his education, athletic background, injury, recovery, mistakes and the questions he was forced to answer for himself. His experience became part of his expertise.

And that leads to another lesson he offers newer trainers: Don't necessarily hide the experiences that shaped you. Share them. Because someone facing a similar challenge may recognize themselves in your story.

The Education You Never Asked For

Neil's career began with formal education. A kinesiology degree. Certifications. Courses. Conferences. Years working with athletes. All of those things helped make him a coach.

But then came another kind of education. An accident. Recovery. Pain. A setback caused by pushing too hard. And six months spent searching for answers. None of it was education Neil would have chosen. But it changed the questions he asked. It changed the people he wanted to help. It changed what he valued in training. And it changed the coach he became.

Twenty-nine years into his CPTN career, perhaps one lesson captures that transformation better than any other:

Progress requires patience over brute force.

Sometimes the experience that changes your coaching most isn't another certification. It's the moment the coach becomes the client.

CARLTON BROWN. CPTN-CPT

ONE MENTOR. ONE PHONE CALL. ONE CAREER

In 1999, Carlton Brown was studying at York University when he met his first real mentor. The trainer worked in the university fitness centre and was CPTN certified.

Carlton already held a personal training certification, but something about this trainer was different. It wasn’t simply what he knew. It was how deeply he understood it. He didn’t just know which exercises to prescribe. He understood why they worked. His answers were grounded in anatomy, biomechanics and purpose.

And that trainer had a mentor of his own. His name was Paul Aspinall.

Carlton eventually met Paul at a fitness event. After talking with him, Paul encouraged Carlton to earn his CPTN certification. Carlton trusted him.

There was only one small logistical problem. Carlton didn’t own a credit card. So he got a money order, climbed onto a bus and travelled across Toronto to the CPTN office to register. He had no way of knowing where that bus ride would eventually take him.

Question After Question After Question

When Carlton arrived at the CPTN certification weekend, Paul recognized him from the fitness event. Then the questions started.

For two straight days, Paul asked Carlton question after question after question.

“At the time, I honestly thought he didn’t like me.”

Years later, Carlton came to see those two days very differently. Paul wasn’t trying to make him uncomfortable. He was testing him. Challenging him. Seeing how Carlton thought when he didn’t immediately know the answer.

“He was pressure testing me because he saw something in me that I couldn’t yet see in myself.”

Carlton earned his CPTN certification and soon accepted a position with what was then the largest fitness chain in Canada.

He lasted seven days.

Then the Phone Rang

The problem wasn’t personal training. Carlton already knew this was what he wanted to do. The problem was the environment.

“I wanted to coach people, not compete with other trainers.”

On the eighth day, his phone rang. It was Paul.

Paul often followed up with people who had attended his courses, and when Carlton explained what had happened, Paul didn’t offer a long speech or career advice. He said three words:“Come see me.”

Paul offered Carlton an opportunity. The pay was better than the position he’d just left, but that wasn’t what impressed Carlton most.

It was Paul’s philosophy.

Paul wanted trainers who saw personal training as a career—not simply a temporary job.

There was just one catch. Carlton still had to pass the interview.

The Interview Without a Résumé

There was no résumé. There was no conventional interview. Instead, Paul gave Carlton one hour. His assignment?

Train Paul.

Every exercise Carlton prescribed had to be justified. He had to explain the joint actions occurring during the effort phase of every movement. And then he had to explain why understanding those joint actions mattered. For Carlton, it became much more than a job interview.

“That wasn’t an interview. It was a lesson I’ll carry for the rest of my life.”

Twenty-five years later, he still does.

A Standard, Not Just a Job

Paul didn’t simply give Carlton an opportunity. He gave him a standard.

Personal trainers don’t just sell workouts. They build trust. They educate. They solve problems. And they earn confidence through knowledge.

Twenty-five years later, Carlton still hears Paul’s voice when he coaches. He still explains the joint actions occurring during the effort phase of movements. He still teaches clients why they’re performing an exercise rather than simply counting their repetitions.

The lesson became his philosophy:

“I don’t coach exercises. I coach understanding.”

Because when clients understand why they’re doing something, Carlton believes they become more confident, more engaged and ultimately more successful.

One hour. One mentor. A lesson that lasted an entire career.

Certifications Open Doors. Mentors Change Lives.

Looking back, Carlton can trace many of the important opportunities in his career to people who believed in him before he fully believed in himself. And that has shaped what he would tell a trainer entering the profession today.

Find mentors. Ask questions. Stay curious. Let experienced professionals challenge you.

Knowledge matters. Humility matters. Curiosity matters. And the best trainers never stop being students. After 25 years, Carlton still considers himself one.

“This profession deserves that level of commitment.”

Yes, This Can Be a Lifelong Career

There is another message Carlton wants new trainers to hear.

Yes, you can build a lifelong career as a personal trainer.

For 25 years, Carlton has had the privilege of doing work he loves.

Along the way, he has watched clients get married and raise children. He has watched people recover from illness, overcome injuries and regain confidence they thought was gone.

“Few careers allow you to become part of someone’s life in that way.”

But Carlton’s advice comes with a qualification.

Don’t try to do it alone. Find the people willing to ask you difficult questions. Find the people willing to challenge what you think you know. Find the people who see something in you that perhaps you can’t see yet.

“The people who ask the toughest questions often become the people who believe in you the most.”

Twenty-five years ago, one of those people was Paul Aspinall.

The Money Order

Carlton still remembers taking that bus across Toronto with a money order to register for his CPTN certification. At the time, he was paying for another certification. Looking back, he sees the investment differently.

CPTN introduced him to a community of professionals who believed that excellence was earned through knowledge, integrity and mentorship. And the most important investment wasn’t really the money order he carried across Toronto. It was saying yes to learning from people who had already walked the path before him.

Twenty-five years later, Carlton is still walking that path. Still learning. Still asking questions. Still explaining why.

And somewhere inside the way he coaches today is an hour spent training a mentor who refused to simply ask him for a résumé.

One mentor. One phone call. One career.

GRANT AND DIANE HERNDEN, CPTN-CPT.M

32 Years. No Website. More Than 90% Client Retention.

When Diane and Grant started their personal training business 32 years ago, they trained athletes: elite athletes. sports teams, athletes who dreamed of competing professionally.

For 16 years, that was their world. And some of those dreams came true.

Several of their athletes went on to compete professionally. One had been told he would never make the Ontario Hockey League. He not only made it—he eventually played in the NHL and, in one season, became a leading scorer with more than 50 goals.

After 16 years, their business evolved. The athletes gave way to adults.

Today, the husband-and-wife team trains people ranging in age from 40 to 86. They also teach three exercise classes each week for the City of Stratford, where participation has been capped at 22 people.

But perhaps the most remarkable number in their story isn’t 32 years.

It’s 90%.

For the past 16 years, Diane and Grant have maintained a client retention rate of more than 90%. And several clients have been with them for the entire 16 years.

They have done it without a website. In fact, for 32 years, their business has grown almost entirely through referrals.

So what keeps people coming back?According to Diane and Grant, it starts with something that has very little to do with sets and repetitions.

People Want to Know That They Matter

“We focus on building strong, lasting relationships.”

Diane and Grant ask about their clients’ families, pets and friends. And when clients ask about their lives, they share those stories too.

It sounds simple.

But over months—and sometimes decades—something happens. The relationship becomes more than a weekly appointment with a personal trainer. Clients begin to feel that they belong to what Diane and Grant describe as their “training family.”

That sense of belonging matters. So does being heard.

One client has been with them throughout their entire 16 years of training adults.During that time, the client made a dramatic lifestyle change and faced a diagnosis of stage 4 cancer. The training relationship endured. So did the friendship. Diane and Grant remain close friends with the client today.

Perhaps that tells us something about why their clients stay.

Listen Before You Lead

Grant and Diane believe that one of the keys to retaining clients is resisting the temptation to decide what their goals should be.

Instead, they ask.

What does the client want to achieve?
What matters to them right now?
Where do they want to go next?

“We don’t try to impose what we think their goals should be.”

That changes the relationship.

The trainer still brings professional knowledge and experience to the process, but the client has ownership of the destination.

Programming is then built around those goals.

Each client also establishes a monthly goal or intention. At the end of the month, they review what happened and establish the next one.The client isn’t simply following a program.They are participating in its direction.

Make Progress Visible

Diane and Grant put considerable emphasis on positive feedback and measurable progress.

Clients report their workouts each week, including the weights used, repetitions completed and sets performed. Diane and Grant review the information and provide feedback.

They also encourage clients to achieve at least one personal best during each workout.

Those results are recorded. That means progress doesn’t have to depend on memory or feeling. Clients can see it. A weight that once felt heavy becomes manageable. A previous repetition record gets broken. An exercise improves. Week by week, there is evidence that the work is doing something. And with that progress comes accountability.

Keep the Experience Moving Forward

Programs don’t remain static either.

Exercises are changed approximately every eight to twelve workouts, and technology has made it easier for clients to continue training wherever life takes them.

Through an online platform, clients receive printed instructions and animated demonstrations of their exercises, along with their assigned weights, sets and repetitions.

They can access their programs from a computer or mobile device, train while travelling, and report their results back.

The technology is useful.

But after 32 years in business, Diane and Grant’s story suggests that technology isn’t the reason people stay. It supports the things that are.

Relationships. Listening. Shared goals. Visible progress. Accountability.

And perhaps most importantly, the feeling that the person standing in front of the trainer is more than another appointment on the schedule.

From Elite Performance to Healthy Aging

There is an interesting symmetry to Diane and Grant’s 32-year career.

For the first 16 years, success might have meant helping an athlete reach a level others thought was impossible.

For the past 16, success has looked different. It might mean changing a person’s relationship with exercise. Helping someone remain active. Helping someone see growing older differently.

When asked what makes them most proud after 32 years, Diane and Grant don’t point to the number of clients they’ve trained or the longevity of their business. They point to the people.

They are proud of helping clients make positive lifestyle changes and watching them lead healthy, active lives. And they are especially proud of changing how some of those clients think about aging. Their clients, they say, have become “local ambassadors for healthy aging.”

That may be one of the most meaningful measures of their influence. The people they’ve helped are now influencing other people.

The Lesson for New Trainers

Client retention is often treated as a business problem. And, of course, it matters to business. But Diane and Grant’s experience suggests another way of looking at it.

Maybe retention is the result rather than the objective.

Build relationships with people.
Listen to what they actually want.
Give them a voice in the process.
Show them that they’re progressing.
Give them reasons to look forward to what comes next.
Make them feel that they matter.

Do those things consistently enough, and people may stay. They may tell other people.

Some may stay for 16 years. And some may eventually become ambassadors for the very lifestyle you helped them discover.

After 32 years, perhaps that’s the bigger success story. Not simply that Diane and Grant built a personal training business that lasted.

They helped build lives that changed with it.