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 routine.

Dear Diary,
For my birthday this year, my husband gave me a week of personal
training at the local health club. Although I am still in great shape
since being a high school football cheerleader 43 years ago, I
decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try. I
called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer
named Christo, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics
instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. Friends
seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged
me to keep a diary to chart my progress.
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MONDAY:
Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was
well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Christo
waiting for me. He is something of a Greek god -- with blond hair,
dancing eyes, and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Christo gave me
a tour and showed me the machines. I enjoyed watching the skillful
way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout today.
Very inspiring! Christo was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although
my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he 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. Christo made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into
the air then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on
the treadmill, but I made the full mile. His 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 laying 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.
Christo was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered
other club members. His voice is a little too perky for that early
in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is
VERY annoying. My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Christo
put me on the stair monster. Why would anyone invent a machine to
simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Christo told me
it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other stuff too.
_______________________________
THURSDAY:
Christo was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his
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. He
took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran
and hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny girl to find me. Then,
as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine -- which I sank.
_________________________________
FRIDAY:
I hate that jerk Christo more than any human being has ever hated any
other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny,
anemic, anorexic, little aerobic instructor. If there was a part of
my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with
it. Christo 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:
Satan left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly
voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing his voice
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 husband will choose a gift for me that is fun -- like a root
canal or a hysterectomy. I still say, if God had wanted me to bend
over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!