For my fiftieth birthday this year, my husband (the dear) purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me. Although I am still in great shape since playing on my high school softball team, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try. I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer whom I’ll call Bruce. He identified himself as a 26 year old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My husband seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started and the club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.
Started my day at 6:00am. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Bruce waiting for me. He is something of a Greek god with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo! Bruce gave me a tour and showed me the machines. He took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill and was alarmed that it was so fast, but I attribute it to standing next to him in his Lycra aerobic outfit. I enjoyed watching the way he taught his aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring. Bruce was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!.
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Bruce made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air – then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. Bruce’s rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT! It’s a whole new life for me.
The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying on the toothbrush on the edge of the sink and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn’t try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a slow moving pedestrian in the club parking lot. Bruce was impatient with me today, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. I’ve noticed that his voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying. My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Bruce put me on the stair monster. Why would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Bruce told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other stuff too.
Bruce was a jerk this morning. I couldn’t help being a half an hour late, it took me that long to tie my shoes. Bruce took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the men’s room. He sent Lars to find me, then, as punishment, put me on the rowing machine – which I sank.
I hate that creep Bruce more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. There is no part of my body I can move without unbearable pain; if there were, I would beat him with it. Today he wanted me to work on my triceps. I don’t have any triceps! Oh, and if you don’t want dents in the floor, don’t hand me &@#$*~ barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. The treadmill flung me off and I landed on the in-house nutritionist. Why couldn’t it have been someone softer, like a receptionist or cleaner?
Bruce left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice asking why I didn't show up today. Just hearing him made me want to smash the machine. However, as I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote, I ended up watching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel instead.
I’m having the church van pick me up for Sunday services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my husband will choose a gift for me that is more fun – like a root canal surgery or a pelvic exam.