What do these four things have in common: hair, scalp, hands, and toenails?
[Jeopardy music] The answer is, these are the only four parts of me which are not sore today.
Monday I had my first work-out experience with a Healthy Living Coach at our local YMCA. I had never worked with a personal trainer before, so I was apprehensive about the process but also looking forward to it. I have never been good at working out in a gym, and usually get bored or lose interest in other exercise programs. I am hoping that having a coach to push me along will help me maintain my motivation. My coach, Voldemort**, started by asking me what my goals are. I have two primary goals:
(1) Improve my upper body strength and tone my upper arms so I do not spend the rest of my life with flabby grandma wings. You know what I’m talking about, ladies. No one wants that.
(2) I hope to complete the 10K in the Fargo Marathon this May. I would like to be able to run at least part of it, thought I don’t expect to be able to run it all. I’m a sprinter. I don’t think I have ever run more than a mile at a stretch in my entire life; the longest run/walk I have ever done was a 5K in October last year and I walked most of that. I even tried to join the track and field team in junior high and I quit because they wanted me to run 2 miles in practice every day. So obviously endurance will be an issue for me.
Voldemort listened intently and said “I know exactly how to effectively torture you. What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger. MUWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAHAHAAHAAAA!” Or something like that.
Anyway, Monday he had me do a bunch of arm-strengthening weight things, which didn’t hurt too bad at the time but it was pretty evident the next day which muscles we had targeted. After the lifting, he put me on a treadmill and made me do what he called “intervals”. This is apparently personal trainer code for “torture you in small doses”. After the workout I was blinded by endorphins and promptly signed up to do another session the next day. Here’s the lesson kids: endorphins make you stupid.
Yesterday I hobbled into the gym and presented myself in front of Voldemort for my second torture session. “Today we’re going to see if we can make your legs completely inoperable,” he said gleefully, rubbing his hands together and chuckling maniacally. Or something like that. He subjected me to a variety of leg-strengthening weight machines and exercises, but what really got me was the thing he called a “superset”, where he had me do a set on one machine, and then immediately move to another machine and do a set there. The first machine was for leg extensions. The second machine was for leg curls. When he brought me to the curl machine, I said “that looks like some medieval torture device.” And he said [exact quote] “You’re the only other person who’s ever said that! Usually people just look confused when I say it.” Did you catch that, kids? He made me use a machine which he himself admitted looked like a medieval torture device. The man is an evil genius. I thought of perhaps providing a picture of it so you could see that I am not exaggerating, but I had left my phone in my locker and didn’t want to look like a creeper by walking into the gym with a camera. I even tried searching the internet for a picture of this particular machine but I could not find one. This only reinforces my belief that the machine really is an ancient torture chamber of some kind which has simply been modified for use in the gym.
Voldemort told me I did not have to run today, which was good because I wasn’t even sure whether I’d be able to walk to my car. I’m fairly certain my legs would have collapsed under my weight if I had attempted to run on a treadmill after that workout. However, Voldemort congratulated me on a good workout and said I worked hard. That’s how they keep you coming back, kids. First they torture you, then they say nice things to you and make you feel good about yourself. After the next workout I’ll probably get flowers or something. If he gives me jewelry I will know to run away and never come back.
Unfortunately, Voldemort only works Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, and I don’t particularly want to go through the whole “getting to know you” process with Grindlewald or whatever the other coach’s name would be, so I won’t be going back until next Tuesday. That should give him enough time to devise a new torture chamber of unparalleled evil.
In the meantime, I better start working on my defense. Just as soon as I figure out how to stand up out of this chair without using any of my leg muscles.
** I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you but this is obviously not his real name. It is also not in any way reflective of my opinion of him as a person. He is actually a very nice guy and doesn’t even remotely resemble the snake-like dark wizard. However, it seemed appropriate considering how I feel this morning.