Lethal Weapon

Tonight will be the final class of the advanced program that has taken up my Monday and Tuesday nights for the last eight months. There will be a final exam tonight, for which I am not nearly as prepared as I’d like to be and also for which I should be studying. As in, right now. But I’m feeling particularly Over Everything with a little Let’s Just Get This Over With thrown in there, plus I heard a rumor today that the test won’t determine whether or not we get credit for this program and frankly? I’m putting all my money on that horse.


This morning’s training session went fairly well, despite not getting enough sleep and feeling kind of gross from all the pizza I stuffed down my throat last night. But then, right at the end we had An Incident.

There is one particular “total body” exercise from the Personal Trainer Repertoire that Muscle Man is hell bent on getting me to perfect: It involves keeping one leg raised while you lift two dumbbells through a bicep-curl-to-shoulder-press-and-lower-them-back-down sort of thing. Then you switch legs and do another set. (Ever since the first day, when I almost took Muscle Man out with a full body check as I lost my balance, I’ve been trying to improve my form.) This morning MM picked up two 15-lb dumbbells off the rack for the exercise. “Too heavy?” he asked. “Nah,” I replied, “but I may quit halfway through the set.” So he exchanged them for the 12.5ers. “If these are too easy, we’ll switch ‘em out for the fifteens” he promised.

So. I’m smoothly (if I do say so myself) taking the weights through the motions, balancing on one leg, feeling The Burn and wondering how I should price the tickets to the gun show when it starts to get difficult. Suddenly these 12.5-pounders are getting HEAVY. I try to increase the speed of the exercise (to get it over with) and am told to slow down. I feel like my arms are going to fall off. Each time I lower the weights back down to my sides the movement is less and less controlled. MM is standing next to me, murmuring words of encouragement in my ear. I only have 7 more to do. I can do this. If I can just. not. let. the weights. fall. too quickly, and… FWOP. MM doubles over, almost falling to the floor. I look over my shoulder in confusion which quickly changes to mortification as I realize that I had clumsily let the weight in my right hand drop down too quickly, inadvertently delivering a swift metal punch to my trainer’s … special equipment.

“Oh my god!” I exclaim, “Are you okay?”

He’s bending, crouched in a self-protective stance, eyes closed, turning away from me. “Uhhhh, I felt that one all the way up into my stomach…”

And I tried to stay mortified (and concerned), I did. But out of nowhere I, too, was doubled over, gasping for breath. I just couldn’t get the apology out around the hysterical laughter. People on the elliptical machines were starting to look over at us. MM and I, engaged in this weird, half-crouching dance, circling each other (I’m pretty sure he didn’t want to get near me ever again), unable to talk.

“Well,” he was finally able to say, “I’ve never had THAT happen before.”

I apologized profusely. And then again. And again.

Five apologies later he was able to stand upright and at that point we both decided the workout was pretty much over. This conclusion was brought about most likely from the dull throbbing in his nether regions, as well as the fact that I couldn’t continue the exercise due to uncontrollable bouts of giggling.

I’m fairly certain that when I see him next, he’ll be wearing a cup.

It’s probably a good thing we didn’t use the fifteens.

2 comment:

Blogger Lisa said...

D'oh! That's something I would do. heehee.

That made me laugh out loud. Sorry trainer dude.

5:58 PM  
Anonymous skyhawk said...

LOL. Despite my sympathy (on several levels) for MM, I too am reeling in laughter from this.

There will be a special section in hell for me, called "Ironic Schadenfreud."

5:59 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home