Went to work out last night to try to sweat some of that pork roast and punkin’ pie I ate for Christmas dinner out of my system. I was really looking forward to seeing Stephanie, who teaches the class. She recently got engaged. To this hulk of a bodybuilder guy who has terrible bouts of violent spells and then terrible bouts of epilepsy after his drinking binges, of which he has many. I am so afraid that he’s going to beat her senseless one day, but I think she kinda keeps him grounded. If they are good for each other and he keeps his shit together, then I am truly happy for her. I’m just leery, that’s all.
Anyway. Got to the gym and found out that all group classes were canceled for the holidays until today! I came very close to just turning around and driving my ever fatter butt back home so I could lounge about in sheer and utter slothfulness, but my conscience gave me a smack you-know-where and told me to get on my horse and sweat. One of the other girls who showed up for class was talking to me about the elliptical trainer thingy, which I’d never gotten the hang of. From out of nowhere, a personal trainer guy started talking to us and he told me he’d show me how to work the contraption.
So with the help of Bill, I hop on the thing and start “running”. Bill doesn’t leave. He wants to chat. Fine. He’s cute and a great diversion from the task at hand. Before I know it, Bill is telling me all about his holiday and how he is getting older and how he played professional soccer in Belgium before he retired and came back here to coach soccer and train. Blah, blah, blah. Of course, the topic of age comes up. Doesn’t it always?? He’s 37, and “shocked” that I’m actually 34 because he “doesn’t see too many women my age who are in such great shape!”
What?!
“Well, okay….who are so thin.”
What??!!
At that point, I would have been rolling on the floor with laughter, but I was too out of breath to even belly laugh.
He told me that he thought that I looked great….for my age. Okay, he really didn’t say the “for my age” part, but he was insinuating. He was also hitting on me. In a major way. I mean, I thought he was going to ask me out then and there while I was huffing and puffing on that crazy machine. Sweat was really starting to fly at that point.
But he was really nice and cute and all, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, and he was making me laugh and at the same time making me self-conscious about my little flabby sections.
So all of a sudden (and I’m still not completely sure where it came from), I blurt out, “You could train me.”
WHAT?!! Did I just say that?!
Oh yes, I did. Because he kind of sputtered, “…..yeaahhhh, I could do that.” But I could tell that his wheels were turning. He wanted to take me out, not work me out!!
And I was kind of freaking out in my own mind, because I kind of suggested it as a way to get out of him asking me out because I didn’t want to have to turn him down. And also, I have always wanted to get some personal training, and it’s the new year and all and I’ve really been starting to think about resolutions and all and welll…….it just seemed like the whole thing just kind of cosmically came together the way it did.
So before I know it (45 minutes later), I’m off the machine and signing a contract for seven sessions of close and sweaty personal interactions with Bill!!
Oh crap.
So I left. Feeling very strange about the whole deal. But strangely excited and strangely motivated, too!
Oops. Long entry…to be continued.
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