Down 6 and a half pounds and ready to take on the world. If I never hug a toilet again, it will be too soon. I was not quite ready to face the world and join the land of the living last week, but I was “forced” to by previously made and then cancelled and then reschedule appointments.
Like one with a trainer at a gym. After the stomach flu.
A local gym is holding a “challenge” to see how much weight and body fat can be lost in a 6 week period. (You see, Dallas was like number 4 in America’s Fattest Cities” and we just can’t have that! So, thus the gimics and programs and gym ads begin.) It’s like a mini-boot camp. I get a personalized training program, a personalized nutrition plan and free gym access. What’s not to love? But it is on a time schedule and I was already a week behind the others. I had to get started or it would be too late.
You see, I had to reschedule the initial body assessment twice. I was out of town the first time and locked in my bathroom the second time. There was no rescheduling this time. So, still weak from the flu, I dragged my sorry ass into the gym to be “assessed.”
I told him from the get-go that I was not going to work out much that day because I was just not up to par yet. Have you ever tried to tell a trainer that? After 2 reschedules? It doesn’t work.
Okay. I am tough. I haven’t had stomach issues yet. Bring it on. And he does.
There I am doing the leg press when I feel that familiar rumbling low on my gut.
Oh good lord… no.. no.. no.. no
Steve* continues to tell me how much weight I need to add and how many reps. At least I think that is what he is saying. All I see is his mouth moving. All I can focus on is the LOUD GURGLING low in my gut.
for the love of god…. this cannot be happening… no.. no.. no.. *CLENCH* *CLENCH* …please stop gurgling… please no… please no
I begin to think of the horror if I were to be the woman on the leg press who farted or worse! Oh the horror of the “..or worse” part. My legs started to shake as I tried even harder to clench tighter.
“Too much weight? I notice your legs are shaking a bit,” he mentions.
“No, no. This is fine,” I say. When in fact, what I am actually thinking is, “All’s well. Just trying not to be the woman who shat upon your leg press, Stevo!”
I’ve never been so happy to finish an exercise in my life.
“Great job. Now, we’ll move on over here and go for a few squats.”
SQUATS?! Oh, hell no. I am only human and that is SO not something we are doing right now.
“You know what, Steve? It’s been fun, but I think we will call it a day today. We’ll meet up here tomorrow? Mmmkay? Great. See ya!”
As I race (as much as you can race with your ass cheeks clenched so tightly you could make diamonds out of coal) out of the gym to my car where I can get home and…uhhh..relax.
I am happy to say, though, I will not go down as the woman who defecated the leg press, thankyouvermuch.