Bad Dog
September 23rd, 2004, 01:13 AM
The Exercise Program
Woman's Version
(I've seen it both ways}
This is too funny not to read. For anyone who has attempted to start an exercise program:
For my Birthday this year, my husband (the dear) purchased a week of private lessons 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 named Tony, 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 Tony waiting for me. He is something of a God with blonde hair, dancing eyes, and a dazzling white smile. WOO HOO!!! Tony 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 all those rippling muscles. (I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted his weight training class after my own workout today. Very inspiring.) Tony was encouraging as 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. Tony 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. Tony'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 the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving is OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a Geo in the club lot. Tony is impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered the other club members. (His voice is a little too perky for the early morning, and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.) My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Tony put me on the stair master. (Why in HELL would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators?) Tony told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other crap too.
Thursday: Tony is 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 hour late. It took that long for me to tie my fricking shoes.) Tony took me to work out with dumbbells. When he wasn't looking, I ran and hid in the Ladies room. He sent Barbie to find me, then, as punishment, put me on a rowing machine...which I sank.
Friday: I hate that SUCKER Tony more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in history of the world. (Stupid, skinny, puffed-up pea.) If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it. Tony wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have ant triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me fricking barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. (Which I'm sure you learned in the sadist school you attended and graduated magna cum laude from, you Nazi Punk.) The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and P.E. Teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?
Saturday: Tony 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 even to 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 husband will choose a gift for me that is fun. (Like a root canal or a mammogram.):rotflmao: :rotflmao: :rotflmao:
Woman's Version
(I've seen it both ways}
This is too funny not to read. For anyone who has attempted to start an exercise program:
For my Birthday this year, my husband (the dear) purchased a week of private lessons 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 named Tony, 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 Tony waiting for me. He is something of a God with blonde hair, dancing eyes, and a dazzling white smile. WOO HOO!!! Tony 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 all those rippling muscles. (I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted his weight training class after my own workout today. Very inspiring.) Tony was encouraging as 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. Tony 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. Tony'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 the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving is OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a Geo in the club lot. Tony is impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered the other club members. (His voice is a little too perky for the early morning, and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.) My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Tony put me on the stair master. (Why in HELL would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators?) Tony told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other crap too.
Thursday: Tony is 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 hour late. It took that long for me to tie my fricking shoes.) Tony took me to work out with dumbbells. When he wasn't looking, I ran and hid in the Ladies room. He sent Barbie to find me, then, as punishment, put me on a rowing machine...which I sank.
Friday: I hate that SUCKER Tony more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in history of the world. (Stupid, skinny, puffed-up pea.) If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it. Tony wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have ant triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me fricking barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. (Which I'm sure you learned in the sadist school you attended and graduated magna cum laude from, you Nazi Punk.) The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and P.E. Teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?
Saturday: Tony 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 even to 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 husband will choose a gift for me that is fun. (Like a root canal or a mammogram.):rotflmao: :rotflmao: :rotflmao: