Well. Back in February I signed up to meet with a personal trainer. Yeah. You may remember that technically I was not lifting any weight, although I looked like I was totally pumping
air iron. You may also remember that I sanctimoniously declared, “I’m not trying to lose weight or get rid of that weird side butt thing going on by my hips.”
Well, I was a big, fat liar.
A few weeks ago Ronnie, my trainer, re-took my measurements to see how much progress I had made. And people, I have made exactly no progress. None. Unless you count the fact that I lost .1% body fat. POINT one percent. I think my side butt may be more toned (and perhaps smaller?) but I can’t be sure. When I asked Demetri about it he stared at me blankly and then backed out of the room.
I. Am. Pissed.
Secretly, I thought I would at least feel, if not look like, The Rock by now. But no. I feel like my same fibromyalgia-y self . . . weakish, tiredish, blobish.
Not only am I doing all that, but I have endured several embarrassing, uh, mishaps at the gym:
1. I may have gotten my finger stuck in a weight machine and had to flail around and yell for help. Finally one of the muscly gym rats heard me through his blaring earbuds and rescued me with a grunt and a look of total disdain.
2. It’s also possible I yanked too hard on the bar attached to the cable thingy and smashed myself in the solar plexus. I’m sure I looked really cool leaning against the wall gasping for breath.
3. But the most horrible incident of all was when the corner of my shirt got closed in my locker and I couldn’t pull the shirt out or open the locker. It happened to be right when spin class got out so I was surrounded by overly tan 20-something women with small butts. I stood there for a few minutes and pretended to stretch my calves. But then they all started changing and I was surrounded by pert and tanned boobs. Really, who needs that kind of blow to her self esteem? So I started banging on the locker and pulling at my shirt because, clearly, I had to escape. Then, an especially hot and bare breasted Barbie offered to help. I kid you not, she opened the locker with her pinky finger.
What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to you or your, uh, “friend”, at the gym?