Coach Says You Need A Time Out

I understand paying someone who is meeting you at the gym and worries about your hamstrings as much as you do.

And I understand why it might be a good idea to have a personal guide when shopping in order to keep the mother of the bride away from leopard prints.

There are many things about which someone else knows best. Advisers are important. What would we do without that friend we can call to ask, “Tell me again why I wanted to be a blonde?”

Now people are acquiring a personal coach to help them organize all aspects of their overwrought life. At first I wondered, why add one more person to your life when you don’t have time for the ones already in it?

Then I went to lunch with Lotty, a woman who used to never take time to eat out. A self-described overworked overachiever, she swears she’s a new woman since gaining a coach whose goal is to get Lotty’s personal and professional life in balance.

The aim of a professional coach is to help you figure out what you want in your life and why in your attempts you’ve become addled, snappish and no fun anymore.

Lotty, who from all accounts used to be a lot of fun even after she gave up motorcycles, said in the past few years that all she’s done is work. She does a lot of her job at home, and one of the problems with that is there’s no one to say, “You’re losing it. Let’s knock off for a beer.”

She generally gets up at 4:30 a.m. and goes to her computer, where she sits in her pajamas until 4:30 p.m. after which she pulls on some clothes and then drives into town to the office.

She said the main reason she sought out a coach, whom she describes as a “gorgeous, brilliant MBA with diplomatic skills,” was to get better at her job, which for all the time she spent at it never seemed to get done.

Those who’ve watched this trend grow and who predict that eventually as many of us will have personal coaches as personal fitness trainers, say the coach is part consultant, therapist, motivational speaker and paid friend.

You would like to think we should be able to do this without paying for it, but apparently we can’t.

Lotty’s coach honed in on the problem of her wanting to be queen of the hop. She persuaded Lotty to delegate responsibility, give up some control and modify some of her expectations for herself and her staff.

But at the same time she told Lotty to play. And she gave her a way to rationalize it.

“She said I was working much too hard, and with my level of stress I couldn’t be efficient.”

Lotty pays a bunch of money for that kind of wisdom. There’s something about advice that comes with a price tag.

If your mother says you’re working too hard, she’s just being a mom. But if an expert gives you permission to slack off and then says, “That will be $100,” you listen.

Here’s one of Lotty’s coach’s tips for free.

Give yourself one hour every day to do something that is fun and good for you. Because of the “good for you” part, that probably cuts out eating a pizza, but maybe not.

It certainly doesn’t mean doing your taxes while you’re on the phone with a client and also keeping an eye on CNN.

Lotty now pencils in one hour of fun every afternoon. Maybe she reads something for pleasure or listens to music. The other day she took her dogs for a walk in the rain and reported, “It was wonderful.”

Two people told me in the past week they’ve awakened at 3 in the morning with heart pounding and panicked over how they were going to finish a certain project.

A friend says she feels like she has one eye on one task and another looking at the next one. She’s working two jobs, looking in on ill parents, promoting a new book, feeling guilty about not getting to yoga class and trying to enjoy a new romance.

It’s not like these people want it all to go away.

They’re the kind who, if they won the lottery, would not give up their planner, like the friend who, when she can’t sleep, gets up and starts writing a new novel.

Or Lotty, who says, “It’s a huge job. I have so much to do. And I love it.”

Last weekend she went to San Francisco with friends.

“It was just for fun,” she said, “something I would never have done a year ago before I had my coach.”

She’s also carrying a smaller purse, which is only big enough for her sunglasses, keys and some money. No room for a pager or cell phone.

Her coach has also told her it’s time to start dating again.

Yay, coach.