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A WOMAN'S WEEK AT THE GYM
If you read this without laughing out loud, there is something wrong with
you. This is dedicated to everyone who ever attempted to get into a regular
workout routine.
Dear Diary,
For my 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 being a high school football
cheerleader 43 years ago, 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
Christo, 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.
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MONDAY:
Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well
worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Christo waiting for me. He
is something of a Greek god - with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling
white smile. Woo Hoo!!
Christo gave me a tour and showed me the machines. I enjoyed watching
the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout
today. Very inspiring!
Christo 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!
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TUESDAY:
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Christo
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. His rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel
GREAT! - It's a whole new life for me.
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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.
Chris was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other
club members. His voice is a little too perky for that 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 Chris put me on the stair
monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an
activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Chris told me it would help
me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other shlt too.
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THURSDAY:
A$$hole 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.
He took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I
ran and hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny bltch to find me.
Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine -- which I sank.
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FRIDAY:
I hate that basterd Christo more than any human being has ever hated
any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny,
anemic, anorexic little aerobic instructor. If there was a part of my body
I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it. Anyone
relate to this? haha.
Christo 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 darn 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?
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SATURDAY:
Satan left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice
wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing his voice 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.
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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 little shlt) will choose a gift for me that is fun -- like a root canal or a
hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have
sprinkled the floor with diamonds!
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