A Lesson in Charisma from My Sweatiest Self

The first time I took Soul Cycle I cried.

The last EDM song was crescendoing to its climax — the tempo edging faster and faster, the beat growing louder and louder. My two feet were pumping so hard I could barely catch my breath. Just when I thought my legs couldn’t push a second longer, my instructor Dacoda told me to unlock something deep inside me. Something gnawing at my soul, something feral, something I had been holding onto for far too long that I needed to release.

So I did. I released it. And in that moment, silent tears rolled down my cheeks.

What the hell just happened?

Somehow, in a dark steamy room, pedaling on a stationary bike going quite literally nowhere, I reached a state of catharsis. It wasn’t pure joy like euphoria at a festival, or clarity of mind right after you take a cold shower. It was simply a physical release that matched up so well with a relief my brain and heart also needed — I couldn’t help but feel emotional.

Earlier in the class, Dacoda had said, “At some point, discipline meets surrender, and that is where the magic happens.” When you put in the work, when you allow yourself to venture somewhere you aren’t sure of or haven’t been before — you place complete faith in the process. You place complete faith in yourself.

This flow state, this intersection of discipline and surrender… is liberating.

In total, this has happened three times. I cried cathartically once at Soul Cycle, once at Barry’s, and once at Hot 8 Yoga.

Out of the hundreds of fitness classes I’ve taken in my life, these three experiences live in my mind rent-free. Besides the obvious common thread of intense cardio (coupled with egregious amounts of sweat), the major through-line between these sessions was not the workout itself, but actually the instructor.

An incredibly charismatic, encouraging, and likable instructor.

Dacoda. Taryn. Dani.

If group fitness classes were a religion, I would worship this trio. They are strong, motivational, observant, charming, magnetic, and above all, natural. They ooze confidence. Their voices are smooth and buttery. They do the exercise along with us — cheering and laughing, shouting and smiling, waving and dancing — as if it’s the easiest feat in the world.

Sometimes Dacoda even sounds like he’s giving a sermon. He’ll kneel on the ground, close his eyes, and say things like,“All we can do is work from where we are. Take stock of where you are. Without judgment, without fear. Stop judging where you’ve been, stop fearing where you’re headed. And be right here, right now.”’

And then I pedal faster.

“It’s one thing to be in the work. It’s another thing to CHOOSE to stay in the work when it gets hard. Trust in where you are. Make the decision you can stay.”

And then I keep going.

Is it cheesy? Yes. Is it preachy? A little bit. But how the hell does someone come up with lines like these on the spot? Dacoda’s speeches are always so powerful and mesmerizing, his voice so magnetic and captivating — even in my darkest moments of exhaustion, burn-out, and self-doubt, I eat his words up. Wholeheartedly.

At the end of the day, the most incredible workouts I’ve ever had didn’t come from the playlists, the calories, or the crazy speeds achieved. They were never about the workout, really. They were almost always centered around the individuals leading the workout. People who knew how to command a room, how to capture a crowd’s attention, how to inspire.

I joke about this, but it’s true: I’d follow Dacoda, Taryn, and Dani to the ends of the earth on a bike, on a treadmill, on a yoga mat.

They have my (fitness) heart.

Last November, I started teaching at Hot 8 regularly. I had a permanent schedule, leading Yoga Barre on Monday and Wednesday evenings.

My very first class I stumbled over my words within minutes. I had gone so far as to memorize my welcome lines to make a smooth introduction, but I ended up just sounding rushed and robotic.

The rest of the class went alright, but I still felt out of my element. My cues weren’t sharp. I zipped through sections. I got nervous about making jokes on the spot and going off script, so I stuck almost exclusively to naming the postures and describing the movements.

Breath, posture, cue. Breath, posture, cue.

Over the next few months, these initial jitters were shaken off, and I got my sequence down to a tee. However, something was still missing. I wasn’t forming the connections with my clients that I wanted. I wasn’t interacting with people individually. And I definitely wasn’t walking out of class feeling like I made people feel something, let alone cry.

I realized the one thing I lacked most was something Dacoda, Taryn, and Dani all shared:

It was charisma. The X Factor.

When you think about charismatic people, there are immediate individuals who come to mind.

Celebrities like Dwayne Johnson and Oprah Winfrey, known for their quick wit and expressive faces. Leaders like Martin Luther King Jr. and former President Obama who talk with exceptional eloquence and can instantly command a room. Tim Cook, Mahatma Gandhi, Aung San Suu Kyi, even Adolf Hitler. The list goes on.

I’m sure there are people in our personal lives we admire as well for their charisma. They are the ones we vote for ASB President, listen to during group projects, worship on social media. But what is this X factor they all possess?

Is it their expressions, their voice, their emotional intelligence, or their ability to adapt socially? Is it part of their physical appearance, or is it their personality?

As it turns out, charisma is not something magical or mysterious. It is deeply rooted in relationship skills that allow charismatic individuals to make deep connections with others. Oratorical skills, showing positivity and optimism, and being emotionally expressive are also part of the building blocks of charisma.

For the longest time, I thought people either have this X factor, or they don’t. I, personally, wouldn’t consider myself charismatic. I am not irresistibly charming or funny on command. I take a while to warm up to new people, and I absolutely hate small talk.

However, after observing the influence Dacoda, Taryn, and Dani wielded in their classes, I was inspired to tap into my own charisma, however deep it was buried inside me. Week after week, I adopted a “fake it ’til you make it” mentality —putting on my biggest smile, talking a little louder and more energetically than usual, and most of all, making small, personal connections with people.

My first step was making a genuine effort to remember as many names as I could and calling them out during class.

“So strong, Mikey.”

“Keep it up, Kelly. Lift that leg a little higher!”

“You look sooo good, Chantal!!!”

Over time, I learned my strengths: clear, descriptive cues, encouraging words, an ever-changing sequence that kept people on their toes. I took elements of Dacoda, Taryn, and Dani, and melded them into a combination that worked for me. But the biggest, most unique superpower I discovered (without influence from anyone else) was my musicality and attention to details, especially in relation to song choices.

Upbeat hip hop for cardio; slow, soothing ballads during stretching. People love Top 40, but they also go crazy for oldies. I gradually understood what people wanted — what their bodies craved — and I tried weaving all of those pieces in my playlist, to the beat of the sequence but also to the beat of their hearts. Armed with this secret weapon, I knew what to do next: bring this music to life.

“Shall we play some Jack Harlow today? Are we in the mood? Who’s a Jack Harlow fan? This song will make you one!”

“C’monnnn ladies, make Lizzo proud here…work those hips, GET SASSY.”

Finally, these small, offhanded comments struck a chord. People reacted and responded. They cheered, they clapped. They gave input. They connected.

My classes finally became what I always wanted: a dialogue.

So, is charisma nurture or nature? Is it learned and observed, or is it a special trait that some people just innately have?

My answer is it’s a little bit of both. There are always people out there who are naturally charming and more at ease in social situations. Being well-liked comes easy for them; they were born to attract. But what I’ve also discovered is you can train yourself to be more charismatic, starting from small, low-stake situations.

When I first trained as a yoga instructor, I was timid, uncertain. With time and patience, I finally gained the confidence to audition as a permanent teacher, and now I’ve learned how to cultivate my personal brand. This ongoing practice of getting to know myself — of building, refining, observing, and implementing — has created a positive feedback loop and trickled into other facets of my life, including the workplace and my professional life.

It’s helped me step into more leadership roles than ever before. It’s also helped me land interviews, impress managers, and inspire other people. I would even go so far as to say, this mentality helped me secure my new job: my dream role at my dream company.

And while I still experience imposter syndrome all the time, I now know how to squash the little voice inside my head that tells me I’m undeserving or inadequate. I have the tools to be “charismatic” when I strive to be my most genuine self. I make first impressions count, I tell people what I’m thinking, I take up space. And I’m less afraid to voice my opinions or ideas because I trust in not only who I am, but who I can be.

These were all things I was never comfortable doing before, but thanks to Dacoda, Taryn, and Dani, I finally dared to.

All it took was a little soul searching and some experimentation.

And I guess, a whole lot of sweat.