For Christmas this year, my wife (the dear) purchased a week of private lessons
at the local health club for me. Although I am still in great shape from 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 Tawny who identified herself as a 26-year old aerobics instructor
and a 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 6 AM. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was
well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Tawny waiting for me.
(She is something of a goddess with blond hair, dancing eyes, and a dazzling
white smile. WOO HOO!) Tawny 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 aerobic
outfit. (I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which she conducted her aerobics
class after my own workout. Very inspiring.) Tawny was encouraging as I did
my sit-ups, although 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 finally made it out of the door.
Tawny 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
it the full mile. Tawny's rewarding smile made it all worth while. I feel GREAT!
It's a whole new life for me.
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 lot. Tawny was impatient with me, insisting
that my screams bothered the other club members. (Her voice is just 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 Tawny put
me on the stair monster. (Why in HELL would someone invent a machine to
simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators.) Tawny told me it would help
me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other crap too.
THURSDAY: Tawny 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 half hour late.
It took me that long for me to tie my goddamn shoes.) Tawny took me to work with
dumbbells. When she wasn't looking I ran and hid in the men's room. She sent
Lars to find me, then as punishment, put me on the rowing machine, which I sank.
FRIDAY: I hate Tawny more than any human being has ever hated any other human
being in the history of the world. (Stupid, skinny, anemic little cheerleader wannabe.)
If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain I would beat her
with it. Tawny 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 goddamned barbells or anything that's
heavier than a sandwich. (Which I am sure she learned in the sadist school that she
attended and graduated magna cum laude) The treadmill flung me off and I landed
on a health/PE teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone a little bit softer, like the
drama coach or the choir director?
SATURDAY: Tawny 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 even to use the TV remote
and ended up watching eleven straight hours of the son of a bltching weather channel.
SUNDAY: I'm having the church van pick me up for services today so I can go and give
thanks to God that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my wife will choose
a gift for me that is fun... like a root canal or vasectomy.