Bcoffman Gray Ghost
01-12-2006, 12:27 PM
A WEEK AT THE GYM: ONE MAN'S STORY...
This is dedicated to everyone who ever attempted to get into a regular
workout routine.
Dear Diary:
For my fortieth birthday this year, my wife (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 college football team 25yrs 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.
My wife 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 skillful 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 GEO 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 whines that is VERY annoying.
My chest hurts 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 shit 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 workout 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 bitch Belinda more than any human being has ever hated any other
human being in the history of the
world. Stupid, skinny, anemic little cheer-leading bitch.
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 you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand 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, my wife
(the bitch), will choose a gift for me that is fun --like a root canal or a
vasectomy.
This is dedicated to everyone who ever attempted to get into a regular
workout routine.
Dear Diary:
For my fortieth birthday this year, my wife (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 college football team 25yrs 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.
My wife 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 skillful 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 GEO 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 whines that is VERY annoying.
My chest hurts 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 shit 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 workout 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 bitch Belinda more than any human being has ever hated any other
human being in the history of the
world. Stupid, skinny, anemic little cheer-leading bitch.
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 you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand 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, my wife
(the bitch), will choose a gift for me that is fun --like a root canal or a
vasectomy.