A Week At The Gym: One Man's Story

[Northern Red]

WEEK AT THE GYM: ONE MAN'S STORY

Dear Diary,

For my fortieth 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

greatshape since playing football 20 yrs ago, I decided it would be a good

idea togo ahead and give it a try. Called the club and made my reservation

with a personal trainer named Vanessa, who identified herself as a 26 yr

old aerobics instructor and Model for athletic clothing and swimwear. 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 6:00am.Tough to get out of bed, but it was well

worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Vanessa waiting for me.

She was something of a Greek goddess with blonde hair, dancing eyes and a

dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!!!!! Vanessa gave me a tour and showed me the

machines. She took my pulse after 5 minutes on the treadmill. She was

alarmed that my pulse was so fast, but I attributed it to standing next to her in

her Lycra aerobics outfit. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which she

conducted her aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring,

Vanessa 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 I finally made it out of the

door. Vanessa made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the

air,and then she put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the

treadmill, but I made the full mile. Vanessa'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 tooth brush

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. Vanessa 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 hurts when I got on the

treadmill, so Vanessa put me on the stairmonster. Why the hell would

anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsoletele by elevators?

Vanessa told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said

some other sh1t too.

THURSDAY:

Vanessa 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. Vanessa 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, put me on the rowing

machine -- which I sank.

FRIDAY:

I hate that b*tch Vanessa 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 were a part of my body I could move without

unbearable pain, I would beat her with it. Vanessa wanted me to work on my

triceps I don't have anytriceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor,

don't hand me the ##C**NG 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 choirdirector?

SATURDAY: Vanessa left a message on my answering machine in hergrating,

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 b*tch), will choose a gift for me that is fun -- like a root

canal or a vasectomy.