Let's Get Physical

I've gone back to workouts with my personal trainer friend Rose twice a week after an experimental hiatus. The experiment was to see if I could maintain the same level of activity and effort by myself at the gym as I have with her at her gym. With carefully controlled factors such as food intake, degree of exertion, documentation and frequency, the results were very enlightening:

I am a blob with zero self-discipline and a fondness for chocolate.

Hah! So great to have that information! Now I can get back into my regular routine with her, armed with the knowledge that I really can't do it by myself. Great news. Really.

I've also learned that when you're too sore to sit down on the toilet without excruciating pain and imbalance, you're following the program perfectly.

It's not just me---several of my friends torment themselves with her as well. We commiserate about her frequent lies ("Just 10 more, you can do it. Now 10 more.") Hello? That's 20!

And her perky, creative counting techniques ("Excellent! That's four, five...") Wait! I was on eight! Eight, I tell you! For the love of GOD, eight!

We're powerless, mushy, mindless slaves to her, and happily pay for the honor. But actually, once I acknowledged that fact, it was easy to give myself completely to the cause.

And hey, maybe I'll just learn to pee standing up! If it's good enough for the guys, can it really be that difficult?