Me llego al email esta muy bueno.. he ma buenisimo….
If you read this without laughing out loud, there is something wrong with you. This is dedicated to
everyone who ever attempted to get into a regular workout..
Dear Diary:
For my fortieth birthday this year, my wife (the
dear) purchased a week of personal training at the
local health club for me.
Although I am still in great shape since playing on
my college football team 25yrs ago, I decided it
would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.
I called the club and made my reservation with a
personal trainer named Belinda, who identified
herself as a 26 yr. old aerobics instructor and
model for athletic clothing and swimwear.
My wife seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get
started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to
chart my progress.
MONDAY:
Started my day at 6:00am.
Tough to get out of bed, but it was well worth it
when I arrived at the health club to find Belinda
waiting for me. She was something of a Greek goddess
with blonde hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white
smile.
Woo Hoo!!!!!
She took my pulse after 5 minutes on the treadmill.
She was alarmed that my pulse was so fast, but I
attributed it to standing next to her in her Lycra
aerobics outfit. I enjoyed watching the skilful way
in which she conducted her aerobics class after my
workout today.
Very inspiring, Belinda was encouraging as I did my
sit-ups, Although my gut was already aching from
holding it in the whole time she was around. This is
going to be a FANTASTIC week!!
TUESDAY:
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it
out the door. Belinda made me lie on my back and
push a heavy iron bar into the air, and then she put
weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the
treadmill, but I made the full mile. Belinda’s
rewarding smile made it all worthwhile.
I feel GREAT!! It’s a whole new life for me.
WEDNESDAY:
The only way I can brush my teeth is by lying on the
toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back
and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both
pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn’t try to
steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club
parking lot. Belinda was impatient with me,
insisting that my screams bothered the other club
members. Her voice is a little too perky for early
in the morning and when she scolds, she gets this
nasally whines that is VERY annoying.
My chest hurts when I got on the treadmill, so
Belinda put me on the stair monster. Why the hell
would anyone invent a machine to simulate an
activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Belinda
told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy
life. She said some other shit too.
THURSDAY:
Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire-like
teeth exposed as her thin, cruel lips were pulled
back in a full snarl I couldn’t help being a half an
hour late; it took me that long to tie my shoes.
Belinda took me to workout with dumbbells. When she
was not looking, I ran and hid in the men’s room.
She sent Lars to find me, then, as punishment, put
me on the rowing machine-which I sank.
FRIDAY:
I hate that bitch Belinda more than any human being
has ever hated any other human being in the history
of the world. Stupid, skinny, anaemic little
cheerleading bitch. If there were a part of my body
could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her
with it. Belinda wanted me to work on my triceps. I
don’t have any triceps! And if you don’t want dents
in the floor, don’t hand me the*&%#(#&** barbells or
anything that weighs more than a sandwich.
The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health
and nutrition teacher. Why couldn’t it have been
someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir
director?
SATURDAY:
Belinda left a message on my answering machine in
her grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not
show up today. Just hearing her made me want to
smash the machine with my planner. However, I lacked
the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up
catching eleven straight hours of the Weather
Channel.
SUNDAY:
I’m having the Church van pick me up for services
today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is
over. I will also pray that next year, my wife (the
bitch), will choose a gift for me that is fun –like
a root canal or a vasectomy!!
