After months of feasibility assessments, and because of my sedentary work [and the consequent accumulation of fat everywhere], my company offered me one week personalized training service in a recognized gym. I didn’t thought about twice and gladly accepted it, going even in person to make my reservation. I was assigned a trainer named Susan, a voluptuous 26-yo instructor, sportswear model she could be… She told me that it would be very helpful to write down my experiences in a paper so I could see my progresses.
So I did, and I would like to share it with you
Got up at 6 am as scheduled! Pretty tough get out of bed to go a gym, but everything changed when I arrived and saw Susan waiting for me. She’s like a goddess, blond, green eyes and that big smile with spectacular fleshy lips.
We did a tour. She showed me the machines and after 5 minutes on the treadmill she checked my pulse. She was alarmed it was so fast. Me too, but I seize the opportunity to make her a compliment: I attributed it to her! She was wearing a Lycra mesh that got into her OMG…
I enjoyed watching her doing the aerobics after I finished this inspiring first day exercise. Susan kept me motivated to do my abs, though my paunch ached as shit.
After two cups of coffee I finally managed to leave the house. Susan made me lay on my back and I began to lift a heavy metal bar, and then she dared to put on… WEIGHTS!
On the treadmill my legs felt little wobbly, but I managed to complete a mile. Her approving smile (and a wink!!) made it all worthwhile. I feel fantastic! This is a new life!
The only way to brush the teeth has been by fixing the toothbrush on the sink and shaking my head both sides over it. I think I got a hernia in my guts.
Nor driving has been easy, my limbs are as paralyzed, just breaking made me feel pain even in the hairs of my arse. I parked on top of a pizza delivery scooter… [*] Need to call the insurance co.
Susan seemed to me a bit impatient this morning. She considered my pain cries bothered other club members. The truth is that her voice is a little sharp at such early hours and becomes nasal when she rises it … It’s quite annoying.
My balls burnt like hell when I was on the treadmill, so Susan switched me to the climber. I wonder why fuck someone invents such a machine to do something that has become obsolete with the use of elevators… She told me it would help to get in shape to fully enjoy life. Bullshit!
Susan was waiting with her fucking kryptonite eyes piercing me like x-rays and a mocking Joker-in-Batman smile.
I couldn’t help but being half hour late: it was the time it took me to tie the sneakers. The cocksucker put me to work with the dumbbells, but when distracted, I ran and hid in the bathroom. She sent another bimbo to find me, and as punishment she put me to work on the rowing machine… a fart heard all around the gym was beyond me. I had never been so embarrassed in my life. Bitch!
I hate that Susan cunt more than any other human being in the world. Fucking anemic, with those fake collagen lips, her fake oxygenated hair and her true airhead. If there would be a part of my body I could move I would kick her ass badly, fuck the she-dog who bore her too!
She wanted me to work on my triceps. Idiot! I DO NOT HAVE TRICEPS! And if you don’t want the gym’s floor smashed, don’t pass me the fucking bar or anything that weighs more than a sandwich…
The exercise bike made me pass out … to wake up in the stretcher of the dietitian, another farting anorexic cocksucker that gave me a lecture on healthy diets. The retard hasn’t the slightest fucking idea of what is to be starving.
Why I always get the creeps? Why not someone normal? Someone relaxed, as a master needlewoman, a stylist….
That fucking Susan dipshit left a message on the answering machine with her little asshole voice asking me why I wasn’t coming today. Just listen to her and I threw away the fucking phone, but then neither I had the strength to lift it nor to lift the TV remote control, so I’ve got 11 straight hours watching the same cable channel, National Geographic’s damn shit, one on mating little birds, and I didn’t fuck six days ago BECAUSE I CAN’T MOVE!…
I’m asking the Church van’s driver to come and pick me to go to mass, and thank God that this week is over. I also pray next year the company sends me to something a little more fun: a dentist appointment, a prostate checking…
No pain, no pain – by Dugutigui (Gym Tribulations, revised. (*) I don’t feel like writing today… so I just revised this old post)