Wednesday, July 08, 2009

The Gym


...or if you're slightly more formal, James.


One of the few things I was excited for in this move was the prospect of joining a gym. One with a daycare. That was the important part since we had a gym in NYC, but it lacked a child care facility so I could only go in the evening. Long story short, I joined.

Of course this came with a complimentary 1 hour personal training session. Perfect. I've always wanted to try one of those. Turns out my trainer, Bob, is an overly enthusiastic fellow. He shortened my first name to a nickname the first time we met like we were old pals. He waved and yelled HI at me from across the gym. Hmmmmmm, you don't happen to also be a salesman do ya??? Shoot Bob, you're not trying to sell me on getting personal trainer are you? No probably not. Anyway, annoying or not, he was my complimentary 1 hour personal trainer. We talked for most of the time and discussed my goals, current workout routine, etc. It appears that the main thing I'm missing from my current routine is resistance training. ie--weight lifting. And he'd be right...I do very little of that. So we decided to hit the gym and see what I could do.

After 15 minutes ol' annoying Bob humbled me. Humbled me good. But the whole time he was like Good job! Atta girl! So I thought maybe I even impressed him... heck maybe Bob underestimated me. Sure he was tough on me, but I did it. Back in his office, in no uncertain terms, he gave me his professional opinion.

Prognosis: I'm a huge wuss.

Good thing I got that membership.

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