For all of us trying to get into shape, I thought you'd enjoy this. A co-worker of mine sent it to me, she thought it was hilarious, too.
Dear Diary...
For my fiftieth birthday this year, my husband (the
sweet dear) purchased me a week of personal training
at the local healthclub. Although I am still in great
shape (from 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 described himself as a 26 year old
aerobics instructor, and model for athletic clothing and
swim wear. My husband seemed pleased with my sudden enthusiasm
to get started. Well, the club encouraged me to keep a diary
to chart my progress, so here it goes:
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 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 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 crap 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 b#$#@$% 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
freakin' 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 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 *$@#&& 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 or a hysterectomy.
Dear Diary...
For my fiftieth birthday this year, my husband (the
sweet dear) purchased me a week of personal training
at the local healthclub. Although I am still in great
shape (from 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 described himself as a 26 year old
aerobics instructor, and model for athletic clothing and
swim wear. My husband seemed pleased with my sudden enthusiasm
to get started. Well, the club encouraged me to keep a diary
to chart my progress, so here it goes:
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 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 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 crap 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 b#$#@$% Bruce more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic little cheerleader. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it.
Bruce wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps!
And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the
freakin' barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. (Which I am sure you learned in the sadist school you attended and
graduated magna cum laude from.)
The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?
Saturday: Bruce left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing him made me want to smash the machine with my planner. However, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended
up catching eleven straight hours of the *$@#&& 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 or a hysterectomy.
