Observer Photo by Jacqueline McClure
At Washington Sports Club, Yaw Owusu trains a client on a weightlifting machine.

by JACQUELINE McCLURE

CHEVY CHASE, Md. - It's 8:30 a.m. Tuesday, and the scene at the Washington Sports Club women's locker room is similar to the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona, Spain - minus the heckling. Some women rush to the showers while others quickly apply makeup and style their hair before dashing off to work.

Ewunike Turner runs through the gym's front door, late for her session with personal trainer Yaw Owusu.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm late," Turner tells Owusu. The rush of blood from her 45-minute jog to the gym has her pumped and ready to work out.

Owusu and Turner work together as trainers at the club, and Owusu also acts as Turner's personal trainer.

"Professional athletes all have coaches," Turner says. "Everyone needs someone to motivate them."

Most fitness centers in America require personal trainers to hold college degrees, but Owusu says the stereotypes of them as meatheads or steroid users are outdated. Today, the emphasis on personal training comes from the trainer's understanding of what works best for each client and the knowledge of human movement.

"People think of us as out-of-work actors that like to count," Owusu said about the personal-training industry. "I want to change that."

A former athlete at Florida State University, Owusu, 26, graduated in 2004 with a degree in exercise physiology. Along with his degree, Owusu has earned two of the seven National Board of Fitness Examiners certifications and specializes in corrective exercise.

Owusu says his physique has attracted a clientele base of more than 30 members. "Honestly, the world we're in is all about first impressions," Owusu says about why everyone from the ordinary guy to the fitness buff chooses him. "You have to be a product of your product."

After Turner arrives for the session, Owusu dives onto the exercise mat with her to begin some stretches. Turner starts her regimen by using a foam roller on the floor to stretch her legs. It feels like a deep-tissue massage, relieving pressure from the knees.

Turner is different from most of Owusu's clients because of her experience, form and agility. From June 1-2, she will compete in the Ultimate Fitness Events, a strength and obstacle course competition held at Bowie University in Bowie, Md.

Today, her routine consists of complex lunges with one-leg squats, 180-pound leg presses, diagonal pull-ups and modified leg climbers.

"It's not about how much weight you can push. It's about how you can control your body," Owusu says, guiding Turner through 20 reps of single-leg curls at 15 pounds.

"You see a lot of big guys at the gym. There's no point in having all that muscle if you can't use it," he says.

"Shh. Shh. Shh." Turner expels short breaths, then thrusts a 10-pound exercise ball diagonally toward Owusu. It works her abdomen.

"Do you feel the oblique on that side?" Owusu asks.

She nods without saying a word and grimaces to fight through the pain.

"Don't throw the ball until you feel the fire," Owusu says, waiting for Turner's athletic adrenaline rush to kick in again.

Workouts should be based on what you need, Owusu says, not what your friends are reading in fitness magazines.

"It can come off as trainers being snobby, but we cringe when we see people doing exercises wrong," Owusu says. "We know two years down the road the consequences they will pay."

His next client, Enu Mainigi, is a trial lawyer and mother of two who came to the sports club in desperation to shed post-pregnancy weight. Mainigi requested someone who wouldn't let her get away with her negotiation skills as a lawyer.

"I'm an impatient person," Mainigi tells Owusu about how it's taking longer to shed weight than it did after her first pregnancy.

While she only has been training for two weeks, Mainigi is satisfied with her body's subtle transformations.

Her only problem with Owusu?

"He has major counting issues," she says.