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<blockquote data-quote="melody" data-source="post: 4235008" data-attributes="member: 14320"><p><strong>Diary About My Personal Trainer</strong></p><p></p><p>Dear Diary...</p><p></p><p>For my fiftieth birthday this year, my husband (the dear) purchased a</p><p>week of personal training at the local health club for me. Although I</p><p>am still in great shape since playing on my high school softball team,</p><p>I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try. I</p><p>called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named</p><p>Bruce, who identified himself as a 26 year old aerobics instructor and</p><p>model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My husband seemed pleased</p><p>with my enthusiasm to get started.</p><p></p><p>The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my</p><p>progress..............</p><p></p><p><strong>Monday:</strong></p><p>Started my day at 6:00 am. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was</p><p>well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Bruce waiting</p><p>for me. He is something of a Greek god - with blond hair, dancing eyes</p><p>and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Bruce gave me a tour and showed</p><p>me the machines. He took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill.</p><p>He was alarmed that my pulse was so fast, but I attribute it to</p><p>standing next to him in his Lycra aerobic outfit. I enjoyed watching</p><p>the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my</p><p>workout today. Very inspiring. Bruce was encouraging as I did my</p><p>sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the</p><p>whole time he was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!</p><p></p><p><strong>Tuesday:</strong></p><p>I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door.</p><p>Bruce made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air -</p><p>then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the</p><p>treadmill, but I made the full mile. Bruce's rewarding smile made it</p><p>all worthwhile. I feel GREAT!! It's a whole new life for me.</p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>Wednesday:</strong></p><p>The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying on the toothbrush on the</p><p>counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a</p><p>hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to</p><p>steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot. Bruce</p><p>was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club</p><p>members. His voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and</p><p>when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying. My</p><p>chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Bruce put me on the stair</p><p>monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an</p><p>activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Bruce told me it would help me</p><p>get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other shit too.</p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>Thursday:</strong></p><p>Bruce was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his</p><p>thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help</p><p>being a half an hour late, it took me that long to tie my shoes. Bruce</p><p>took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and</p><p>hid in the men's room. He sent Lars to find me, then, as punishment, put</p><p>me on the rowing machine-which I sank.</p><p></p><p><strong>Friday:</strong></p><p>I hate that bastard Bruce more than any human being has ever hated any</p><p>other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic</p><p>little cheerleader wanna-be bastard. If there was a part of my body I</p><p>could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it. Bruce</p><p>wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you</p><p>don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the *^&%%$$$ barbells or</p><p>anything that weighs more than a sandwich. (Which I am sure you learned</p><p>in the sadist school you attended and graduated magna cum laude from,</p><p>you Nazi bastard). The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health</p><p>and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like</p><p>the drama coach or the choir director?</p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>Saturday:</strong></p><p>Bruce left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly</p><p>voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing him made me</p><p>want to smash the machine with my planner. However, I lacked the</p><p>strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven</p><p>straight hours of the *$@#& Weather Channel.</p><p></p><p><strong>Sunday:</strong></p><p>I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and</p><p>thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my</p><p>husband (the BASTARD) will choose a gift for me that is fun - like a</p><p>root canal, a mammogram, a pelvic exam, or even a hysterectomy!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="melody, post: 4235008, member: 14320"] [B]Diary About My Personal Trainer[/B] Dear Diary... For my fiftieth 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.............. [B]Monday:[/B] 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 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!! [B]Tuesday:[/B] 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. [B] Wednesday:[/B] 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 shit too. [B] Thursday:[/B] 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. [B]Friday:[/B] 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 wanna-be bastard. 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, you Nazi bastard). 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? [B] Saturday:[/B] 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. [B]Sunday:[/B] 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, a mammogram, a pelvic exam, or even a hysterectomy! [/QUOTE]
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