Feel The Pain
Dear Diary... 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 I'll call Bruce,
who identified himself as a 31 year old Aerobics instructor
and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My husband seemed
pleased with my enthusiasm to get started.
The club encouraged me to keep a diary of my progress.
Monday:
Started my day at 6:00 am. 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. He was alarmed that
my pulse was so fast, but I attribute it to standing next to
him in his Lycra aerobic outfit. I enjoyed watching the skillful
way in which he conducted 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!!
Tuesday:
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out
the door. Was little late from having to stop twice to pee.
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.
Wednesday:
The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying 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
GEO in the club parking lot. Bruce was impatient with me, insisting
that my screams bothered other club members. 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 the hell 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 shit too.
Thursday:
Bruce was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed
as his 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. Bruce took me to work out with dumbbells. When
he was not looking, I ran and hid in the ladies' room. He sent
Gretchen to find me, then, as punishment, put me on the rowing
machine-which I sank.
Friday:
I hate that bastard Bruce. Skinny, anemic little cheerleader
wannabe. If there was a part of my body I could move without
unbearable pain, I would beat him with it. Bruce wanted me to
work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't
want dents in the floor, don't hand me the F#%*=~ 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:
Bruce left a message on my answering machine in his grating,
shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing
him made me want to smash the machine with my heating pad. However,
I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up
watching 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 my husband (the CREEP) will choose a gift for
me that is fun-like a root canal or a hysterectomy.
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