I bravely reported to my first training session at Anytime Fitness this evening. This is where I am to meet with Kevin The Trainer. He looks friendly. My first thought after that is, “I didn’t know 15 year olds could get that buff and/or work as Personal Trainers. Does his mom know he’s doing this?”
Obviously he’s a grown up in real life, but exercise and vegetables make me grumpy and sometimes I say unkind things.
Kevin weighs me, measures me, and hands me a device that looks something like a Mario Kart wheel, but instead of a fun game, it just tells me I’m fat.
Next, I step up and down on a stair for 3 minutes, do crunches for a minute, and show Kevin The Trainer how many pushups I can do (as in HAHAHAH PUSHUPS?! aka Zero).
“Great,” he says, “Lets go back to the desk and write down the results for this assessment, then we can start the workout.”
Assessment? START the workout? Kevin, you tricky bastard.
I spend the remainder of the hour being given a workout plan to execute for the next two weeks. He explains everything perfectly, and takes me through the workout. Then he watches my form. This is where I really start to get to know Kevin, as he chats with me (presumably on the pretense of distracting me from this whole sweaty hard work business, which I appreciate fully).
Kevin likes my tattoo. He also likes Pan’s Labyrinth. And Le Mis. He covers thoroughly how impressed he is that Wolverine really has a set of pipes on him.
He waits until I’m lying on the ground, with a swiss ball between my legs, to ask how I’m doing.
“Ugh–<blowing out noise>–this is–<another weird breathing noise I’ve never made before>–it’s really difficult.” I look up at him helplessly. That my face was not immediately a cause for his concern speaks volumes of his mental fortitude.
“Good,” Kevin says casually.
I’m a little afraid of you, Kevin. But I have priorities. I’m going to have to walk, and sit, and use stairs tomorrow, and I’m betting that is going to be pretty scary come morning.