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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 26
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 to chart my progress.
Monday:
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.
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. 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 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.
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 men's
room. He sent Lars to find me, then, as punishment,
put me on the rowing machine - which I sank.
Friday:
I hate
that creep Bruce more than any human being has
ever hated any other human being in the history
of the world. There was no 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 &@#$*~
barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich.
Which I am sure you learned in the sadist school
you attended and graduated magna cum laude from,
you jerk!) 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 planner. However, I
lacked the strength to even use the TV remote
and ended up catching eleven straight hours of
the stinkin' 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
will choose a gift for me that is fun - like a
root canal, a mammogram, or a pelvic exam.
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