Dear Diary,
For my 60th
birthday this year, my daughter Rachel (the dear) purchased a week of personal
training at the local health club for me. 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 Belinda, who identified
herself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing
and swim wear. My daughter 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
6:00 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 -- blonde hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile.
Belinda gave me a tour and showed me the machines. 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 (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 44 oz Diet Coke, 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 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 okay as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in
the club parking lot.
THURSDAY:
Belinda was waiting
for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed, and 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 wasn't looking, I ran and hid in the restroom.
She sent some
skinny b*tch to find me. Then, as punishment, she put me on the rowing machine
-- which I sank.
FRIDAY:
I hate that witch
Belinda more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the
history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic 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 darn 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
didn't show up today. Just hearing her message made me want to smash the
machine with my fist. But since I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote
control, I ended up catching 11 straight hours of the Weather Channel instead.
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 daughter Rachel (the little snot) 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!
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