Alice: I need to renew my gym membership. Like, yesterday.
Frenchie: I need to renew my will power. Can I pay for that? I would… a lot
Alice: I think they accept your soul as payment
I meet with my new trainer this week. He is Scottish and sounds very intimidating on the phone. The first trainer I had was from Newfoundland and laughed at pretty much everything I did. And not in the “gee you sure are funny!” way. No, more of a “haven’t you EVER stood on one leg on a teetering Bosu Balance Trainer while throwing a ten pound medicine ball rythmically against the floor and simultaneously doing leg presses with ankle weights on? No? Ha ha – wow you newb!” sort of laughing at me way.
I’m always nervous meeting a trainer. I actually asked for a girl trainer the first time but was paired up with the Newfie. I’m sort of glad I had a guy because although I wasn’t attracted to him, I wanted to work harder to impress him. Or something like that. With a girl I’d just try to gossip with her to distract her from the fact that I wasn’t really working out. At all. Ever.
The thing with the trainer though is that if they’re too good looking you’re embarrased to work hard. Sweat pouring down your face, arms quivering with the strain of that ten pound weight (kidding – I lift at least 12.5), real or imaginary flab jiggling everywhere as you jog in place. I need to not be thinking about what my trainer would look like naked and instead be concentrating on how many more times I can lunge before I collapse on the floor like a puddle of out-of-shape Jell-O.
Another thing? All the trainers seem to have photographic memories. “Alice! We haven’t seen you in three weeks, two days and six hours! Have you been away? No? Well, you can sure tell” *wink* Do they take that as a class in preparation to become a trainer? Memorize all members’ schedules. When you see a member, mark it in the little book. Always check this book the next time they are in to ensure you can embarass them with the knowledge that it’s been 24 days since they were last in.
Also, what’s with the hip thrust maneuver? In case you are unfamiliar, it’s where you lay on your back, put your feet on a slightly raised area – like a step, bend your knees and rhythmically raise your hips up and down. Yes, just like when you’re having sex – well, if you were having relatively boring sex. Somehow when I do them it always seems to be perfectly timed to the worst song. I just start with the hip thrust – and up, and down – when inevitably “This is Why I’m Hot” starts playing. Way to call attention to yourself and look like a huge narcissistic asshole at the same time.