About Exercise.................

This is dedicated to every woman who has ever attempted to get into a
>regular workout routine. A must read! If you can read this without
>laughing out loud, there is something wrong with you.
>
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>
>Working Out
>
>Dear Diary...
>For my fiftieth birthday this year, my husband (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 high school softball team, 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 I'll call Bruce, who
>identified himself as a 26 year old aerobics instructor and model for
>athletic clothing and swim wear. My husband 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 AM. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well
>worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Bruce waiting for me. He

>is something of a Greek God - with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling
>white smile. Woo Hoo!! Bruce gave me a tour and showed me the machines. He
>took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill. He was alarmed that my
>pulse was so fast, but I attribute it to standing next to him in his Lycra
>aerobic outfit. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted
>his aerobics class. I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching
>from holding it in the whole time he 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. Bruce
>made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air - then he put

>weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made
>the full mile. Bruce'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. Bruce was
>impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members.
>His voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when he
>scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying. My chest hurt
>when I got on the treadmill, so Bruce put me on the stair monster. Why the
>hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered
>obsolete by elevators? Bruce told me it would help me get in shape and
>enjoy life. He said some other shit too.
>
>Thursday:
>Bruce was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his 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. Bruce took me to work
>out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the men's
>room. He sent Lars to find me, then, as punishment, put me on the rowing
>machine - which I sank.
>
>Friday:
>I hate that bastard Bruce 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 him with it. Bruce 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:
>Bruce left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice
>wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing him 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 dear
>husband will choose a gift for me that is fun - like a root
>canal or a hysterectomy.