Thursday, December 23, 2010

Work Out Diary

Here's a joke i received in e-mail that pretty much sums up working out:

Dear Diary,
For my birthday this year, my husband purchased a week of
personal training at the local health club. 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.

Friends seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get
started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to
chart my progress.
Started my day at 6:00 am. 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!!
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 in to 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.
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.
Christo 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 Christo
put m e on the stair monster. Why the hell would
anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity
rendered obsolete by elevators? Christo told me it
would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said
some other shit too.

Asshole 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 bitch to find me.
Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing
machine-- which I sank.
I hate that bastard Christo more than any human being
has ever hated any other human being in the history
of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic,
little aerobics instructor. If there was a part of
my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would
beat him with it.
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 damn 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
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 WeatherChannel..
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. I still say if God had
wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the
floor with diamonds!!!