5:00am - Alarm goes off. It's pitch black outside and I am seriously starting to question the importance of that bikini body.....after all, arern't all those self-help books always waxing lyrical about loving the skin you're in and whatnot? Alas, I've kinda already committed to this training thing so I drag myself out of bed.
5:30am - I am still faffing around my flat looking for shoes and make-up - I hate this showering at the gym thing - Those buff types tend to constantly be suffering from Athlete's Foot........(I add another con to my "reasons not to exercise" list)
5:45am - Where's my cellphone, f*ck, I'm gonna be late - where the hell is my phone????
5:50am - I careen down a relatively empty road hoping no eejit pedestrian dare stumble into the road. I hate pedestrians.
6:00am - Left my glasses in the car. Can't see a thing - desperately search for Lebs and Personal Trainer (I shall call him Satan)
6:02am - Lebs notices me stumbling around like a lost puppy (what a good friend) Go downstairs and Satan is waiting for us - all too eager to inflict punishment......
6:05am - Satan has put us on some stair climbing contraption. Hmmmmm, this is rather piss easy....ha! So much for personal trainer whatnot!
6:20am - 15 minutes of silly machine - haven't even broken a sweat! Move aside for G.I Star please!
6:25am - OH LORD! Is this what being shot feels like???? Can you break a muscle? I'm sure you can - mine is definately broken! Satan keeps insisting I keep lifting my legs! He has me on some quad (thats thigh muscles for all you ignoramuses!) machine and I'm sure I'm lifting 100kg - possibly even 150! I scream. Satan tells me I'm scaring the other clients. Scaring the other clients my ass....OH MY ASS! IT PAINS!
6:40am - I'm sure our hour training time is up! Satan is barking some order about squats...huh? I'm a tad bit delirious from the lack of oxygen flowing to my brain....I think I may hurl.
6:50am - I'm trying desperately to kick some bag.......Lord please take me now - I doubt there's bags to be kicked in heaven...
6:55am - Satan asks us what is it we've been doing at the gym for the past couple of years. What a stupid question - who goes to gym to actually work out. I think all those muscles are suffocating Satan's brain....
7:00am - I think it's over.....Can't be sure though, maybe I've just passed out.......leave me here please.
7:05am - I nearly fall down the stairs. Satan is mumbling something about seeing us on Thursday - yeah right. Wild dogs wouldn't be able to drag me here again! Lebo admonishes me for my lack of committment. Do I want that bikini body or not? I shed a tear.
7:10am - I sign some form. I am a fool. I think it said something about 12 sessions with Satan. You think a aneurism might get me out of this?
Read On
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4 comments:
LOL!!!! This is the most apt description of this morning's saga. I could not have put it better!
For some reason my legs don't hurt as much as I thought they would. I have a feeling I'm gonna wake up and not be able to lift myself out of bed tomorrow morning - the pain is bound to sink in at some point.
You wanted this bra (bikini body and what-not) - so you'd best pucker up. Satan expects us to be at the gym nice and early on Thursday morn - and I don't believe in getting on the wrong side of someone that can exercise me to death.
No pain, no gain chica!
Just think, in a few months you will have a HOT body driving all the Island boys crazy with it, hehehe.
Satan he-re? Sha, that's cruel, lol
Oh, by the way - I love the new look!
Merci Beaucoup!
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