or Connect
EpicSki › The Barking Bear Forums › Off-Season Sports & The Lighter Side › Humour and Fun Stuff › The gift of a personal trainer
New Posts  All Forums:Forum Nav:

The gift of a personal trainer

post #1 of 5
Thread Starter 
Dear Diary... For my 40th 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 named 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. 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 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 stupid **** 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 bathroom. He sent Lisamarie to find me, then, as punishment, put me on the rowing machine - which I sank.

Friday: I hate that bastard Bruce more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic little cheerleader. 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 &*@*#$ 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.) The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health andnutrition 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 *$@#&& 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 BASTARD) will choose a gift for me that is fun - like a root canal or a hysterectomy.

<FONT COLOR="#800080" SIZE="1">[ December 18, 2001 03:04 PM: Message edited 1 time, by Kima ]</font>
post #2 of 5
Kima, please, please tell me this is a joke!!!!!
post #3 of 5
Relax. yes it's a joke.

This one has been floating around the Internet emails for as long as I can remember in some form or another. 5-7 years?

It still brings a smile to my face.. [img]smile.gif[/img]
post #4 of 5
Thread Starter 
Yes LM it is a joke. Did you not see your name in it?

Hope you were not offended.
post #5 of 5
Nah! Not at all! The scary thing is that there actually ARE trainers like that!
New Posts  All Forums:Forum Nav:
  Return Home
  Back to Forum: Humour and Fun Stuff
EpicSki › The Barking Bear Forums › Off-Season Sports & The Lighter Side › Humour and Fun Stuff › The gift of a personal trainer