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Subject: THE GYM...VERY FUNNY!!!
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
regular workout routine.
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 great shape since playing on my college football team 25 years
ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.
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 6:00am. 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, 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 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, 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 *&%#(#&**!!@*@ barbells or anything that weighs
more than a sandwich. (Which I am sure you learned in the sadist school
you attended and graduated magna cum laude from.) 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 watching 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 witch) will choose a gift for me that is fun -like a
root-canal or a vasectomy.
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
regular workout routine.
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 great shape since playing on my college football team 25 years
ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.
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 6:00am. 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, 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 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, 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 *&%#(#&**!!@*@ barbells or anything that weighs
more than a sandwich. (Which I am sure you learned in the sadist school
you attended and graduated magna cum laude from.) 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 watching 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 witch) will choose a gift for me that is fun -like a
root-canal or a vasectomy.
' '
'
but... don't do it again! 
:
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