you through the wringer?!
Be that as it may, in my case my doctor told me in no uncertain terms that I am overweight and need to do something about it. So with the zeal of a new convert, I joined a gym. Now previous experience has told me that the "work out - get fit" progression is not true! It's more like "work out - sweat a lot - half die - slow recovery - EVENTUALLY get fit".
So it is with a measure of empathy that I read this story about some other hapless gym victim...
A WEEK AT THE GYM: ONE MAN'S STORY...
If you read this without laughing out loud, there is something wrong with you. This is dedicated to everyone who ever attempted to get into a regular work-out routine.
Dear Diary:
For my 44th birthday this year, my good friend Werner purchased a week of personal training at the Virgin health club for me. Although I am still in great shape since playing for my varsity Rugby team 18 yrs ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.
I called the club and made my reservation with a personal trainer named Belinda, who identified herself as a 26 yr. old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swimwear.
Werner seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.
MONDAY:
Started my day at 6:00am. Tough to get out of bed, but it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Belinda waiting for me. She was something of a Greek goddess with blonde hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile.
Woo Hoo!!!!!
She took my pulse after 5 minutes on the treadmill. She was alarmed that my pulse was so fast, but I attributed it to standing next to her in her Lycra aerobics outfit. I enjoyed watching the skilful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my workout today.
Very inspiring, Belinda was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time she was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!
TUESDAY:
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Belinda made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air, and then she put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile.
Belinda's rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT!! It's a whole new life for me.
WEDNESDAY:
The only way I can brush my teeth is by lying on the toothbrush on the counter 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 moped in the club parking lot.
Belinda was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered the other club members. Her voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when she scolds, she gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.
My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Belinda put me on the stair monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Belinda told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other rubbish, too.
THURSDAY:
Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed as her thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late; it took me that long to tie my shoes.
Belinda took me to work out with dumbbells. When she was not looking, I ran and hid in the men's room. She sent Lars to find me, then, as punishment, put me on the rowing machine – which I sank.
FRIDAY:
I hate that Belinda more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anaemic little cheerleading cow. If there were a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her with it. Belinda wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if she didn't want dents in the floor, she shouldn't have handed me the barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich.
The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?
SATURDAY:
Belinda left a message on my answering machine in her grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing her made me want to smash the machine with my planner. However, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.
SUNDAY:
I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank God that this week is over. I will also pray that next year, Werner (the rotten jerk), will choose a gift for me that is fun – like a root canal or a vasectomy!!
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