Ujaye

WEEK AT THE GYM: ONE MAN'S STORY

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 sixty fifth birthday this year, my wife (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
college tennis team 45 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 Belinda, who identified herself as a 26-year-old
aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim
wear. My wife seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started!

The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress

MONDAY
Started my day at 60 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found
it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find
Belinda waiting for me. She is something of a Greek goddess -
with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo
Hoo!! Belinda gave me a tour and showed me the machines. She
took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill. She was
alarmed that my pulse was so fast, but I attribute it to
standing next to her in her Lycra aerobic outfit. I enjoyed
watching the skillful way in which she conducted her aerobics
class after my workout today. Very inspiring!
Belinda was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, all though my gut
was already aching from holding it in the whole time she 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. Belinda made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar
into the air -- then she put weights on it! My legs were a
little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile.

Belinda'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 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. Belinda was impatient with me,
insisting that my screams bothered other club members. Her
voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when
she scolds, She gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.
My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Belinda put me on
the stair monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to
simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Belinda
told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said
some other shit too.

THURSDAY

Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed
as her 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. Belinda took me to work out with dumbbells. When
she was not looking, I ran and hid in the men's room. She sent
Lars to find me. Then, as punishment, she put me on the rowing
machine -- which I sank.

FRIDAY

I hate that bitch Belinda 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 her with
it. Belinda 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 Mutha ****in 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?

SATURDAY

Belinda left a message on my answering machine in her grating,
shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just
hearing her 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 wife (the bitch) will choose a gift for me that is
fun -- like a root canal or a vasectomy.


"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving
safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in
sideways, a cold drink in one hand - strawberries in the other, body
thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "what a ride"

Cheers