Chris, my dear sweet son, has been joking me for awhile now about how out of shape I am. I've been pleading the fact that I'm 46 years old and have a right to sit on the couch for 6 straight hours every night. But after turning it into a challenge telling me that I was just "incapable" (THAT did it), I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try. I'd show HIM that I COULD do it, I just would rather not.
I called the gym and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Cheryl, who identified herself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. Chris was excited with my enthusiasm to get started! (Right!) The gym encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress, so I thought I'd share it with you . . . now that it is OVER.
MONDAY :
Started my day at 6:00 a.m. It was tough to get out of bed (I'm NOT a morning person), but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the gym to find Cheryl waiting for me. She is something of a Greek goddess - with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Cheryl gave me a tour and showed me the machines. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring! Cheryl 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 this morning.
Cheryl 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. Cheryl'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 was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. Cheryl was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other gym members. Her voice is a little too perky that 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 Cheryl put me on the stair 'monster'. Why would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Cheryl told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other words too.
THURSDAY :
Cheryl 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. Cheryl took me to work out with dumbbells.
When she was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. She sent another
skinny instructor to find me. Then, as punishment, she put me on the rowing
machine -- which I sank.
FRIDAY :
I hate that Cheryl more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic little cheerleader. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her with it.
Cheryl 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. 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:
Cheryl 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. However, I lacked the strength to even lift 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 Chris will now leave me the Hell alone. Screw a bunch of exercise. It's all over-rated. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!
Disclaimer: This wasn't really my story, but it made me laugh so hard that I believe I snorted. I actually stole it from Sleepless in Seattle and sort of customized it to make it sound more believable. . .like me.
But there ARE several facts in this story that are indeed real. . . (1) I HATE exercise, (2) Chris DOES give me a hard time about my skinny calves and flabby triceps, and (3) I am NOT a morning person. . . especially to get up and do exercise. I think not. My pillow is much more appealing. So if you ever hear me speak of exercising EVER, you'll know I'm just telling you all a big fat story.
Happy Hump Day!
Strong sexual dialogue and situations, some nudity as featured in movie scenes, graphically depicted sexual positions (although no nudity is shown) and a shot of a baby crowning near the end of the film.
There is also a very graphic strip club scene with frontal nudity and a part after an earth quake where a woman's breast is shown.Constant pervasive language and sexual dialogue The "F- word" is used constantly; appoximately 113 times (really? 113 times? I didn't even notice)
There are scenes where Ben smokes from bongs, his roomates smoke marijuana, and Pete and Ben do mushrooms and hallucinate. Frequent references to "do drugs." Ben and Alison get very drunk before their one night stand.
The birth scene. (Funny Funny scene. I was laughing outloud.)
What the WORLD!! A potato and a weather event? Who knew they had so much in common?
It's probably the brain child of somebody in the South who lived in a trailer park who was living on the same bag of potatoes for a week desperately trying to think of a new way to reinvent the wheel while watching the local weather station announce yet another Tornado Watch for the area and KABOOM - an idea was born. "I'll just make this potato look like a tornadO. Then I can fry up a bunch and take 'em to the local fair. Then I can be rich. . . and get me that new double-wide!"
***Disclaimer - I'M from the South. I lived in a trailer park. And I lived on a bag of potatoes for a week once. So I'm allowed to joke. Now get your panties out of a wad.
Seriously - by the looks of the food cart in the background, it looks like I'd have to travel to Asia somewhere to find one for real. But that doesn't narrow it down very far. Maybe I need to figure out how to make it myself and save the trip. It can't be that hard. Being from the South, we fry everything! Why not a tornado potato? Genius!
