Tuesday, Jan. 11, 2005 - 8:10 p.m.
The bitch has given me asthma
I'm updating from The Other Side. The jennyj you knew died half an hour ago when she coughed up a lung at the gym. I've seen the M@tt Roberts books - I thought personal training would be having someone standing by your machine talking to you so you didn't get bored jogging your 5k twice a week.Apparently I was wrong.
I was pleased to see the girl assigned to me was small and cute and smiley and I thought, wow she's almost too alternative for the gym too! She puts me on the cross trainer and says 'right, now crank it up to 11 ... 13 ... keep it at 75! 75!'
So I crank it up another two notches and start a-running. 75! Easy! Until the random program kicks in! Suddenly I'm running up walls and if I don't keep the same pace the mean girl shouts at me. Head up! Shoulders back! Push with your heels! (My heels don't reach the floor.) Push with your hands! (These are my hands? Why can't I feel them anymore?)
It's fine you know, anything is fine for 5 minutes. But I had twelve long minutes of this hell. My lungs started burning at 7 minutes. She asked how I was feeling; I had to be honest and say, 'sssss ..hhhhhhhhhrrrrr' (that's 'sick' when you have no air left in your lungs). She did look alarmed and had to ask if I was actually going to be sick. When I managed to motion to the negative she just went straight back to the 'KEEP IT UP! 75!'.
75? But is it right that I now taste blood?
They can keep their other two free sessions: this is meant to make me want to stay at the gym? This ritual torture?
I think even my lungs were sweating because now when I breath in I hear a rattle (a death rattle?) and can't stop coughing.
What's wrong with being mildly fit, anyway? I feel like I did after a hockey lesson at school, and at those times I was always counting down the weeks until the next holiday - why would one choose to put oneself through this? Why did I miss out on the gene that gives you exercise euphoria?
Anyway - this little friend of Beelzebub also does nutrition and food diaries if you sign up for more personal sessions with her, so I am vaguely interested in subjecting myself to her magic wand. As long as there was less of the sputum to worry about.