Friday, December 09, 2005
So, I’ve decided that my personal trainer is indeed the master manipulator I thought he was. Last night we worked out a brand new program for me. You know, we are taking things to the next level. We gotta focus my power and further tone my muscle groups. We’ve worked out a plan of several steps that include some power lifting and time on the stability ball. We aim to further develop my quads and glutes while building more strength in my delts and pecks. We’ve planned for some intense anerobic training. You know, really power up heart and go for a high calorie burn. There will be some special attention paid to my core. At this point you should all realize that I have no idea what I am talking about.
While on the elliptical trainer – also known is the machine of choice for dumped girls the world over – my trainer asked me to pick up the pace to a breakneck speed for the last 15 seconds of every minute. So, I did what he asked. Then he said “Wow, Debbie, you are in great shape. I mean you are super powerful.” I know that he is saying this cause he knows that I respond to positive reinforcement better than most people. I almost broke that elliptical machine.
Then, toward the end of the work out he said “So, how is the eating coming.” So, I said “Great, I am currently packing back about a pint of ice cream a week, but I am falling behind on my cookie and chocolate intake.” He looked at me confused. So I said, “I never said I was on a diet, dumbass.”
I’m getting a cold.