Posts Tagged ‘personal trainer

I love my trainer but he is dumb as fuck. At least when it comes to relationships.

For an update: wedding’s off, officially.

They were supposed to go to Vegas for his birthday… that’s not happening either. She got ‘called into a work conference.’  Um… I just let it go, but how can he believe this shit? So he’s going to Vegas by himself.

So then, he tells me she’s moving out, because her dad said she had to concentrate on school and move onto campus.

Me, very confused: “I thought she was graduating?”

Him: “uh… no.”


Him: “You know, she just had so much stress planning this wedding…”

Holy hell dude. Again. When you set the wedding date, did she not think of what she was doing in the time leading up to said date?

We did chat about other stuff, my whole work out session isn’t therapy hour, thank god.

And at some point, he said to me, “Get me a job where you work so we can travel together.”

Me: “Ha. Sure, I’ll call in all my favors and see if you can by my personal trainer while we travel the world.”

He laughed and says: “Yeah, so it’s not happening, but come on, we’d have so much fun together. You know it’d be a good time.”

Oh… he doesn’t even know. I would *break* him…. in the best possible way. 🙂





So last week, I’d gone in for training sessions two days in a row, and both days my trainer had been in a bad mood. It didn’t affect my workout but I could tell something was wrong.

I didn’t really think anything of it, figured it was just work stuff but then he started talking about it…

Turns out his fiance (who is 23 and too young to be getting married) basically is FREAKING OUT and told him that although she wants to get married, she doesn’t know if she can do it on the date they’ve set. Which is 3 months out from now.

Um, what the fuck. The reason is she’s so busy with school and trying to get into med school (or whatever the hell she’s doing) and so she’s stressed. So… when they planned the date, did she not realize what was going to be happening at the same time?  Like every time they put a deposit down on something, did she not think, “Wow, that’s right around finals” or whatever the issue is. (And here’s what I really don’t understand – school will be done in a month or so, so why is she freaking out about 3 months from now??)

THEN! He goes on to tell me that she’s been engaged before. When she was 18!!! To this guy that beat her!!!

AND!!! HE’S BEEN ENGAGED BEFORE!!!!! And he came home 2 days early from a work trip and found his fiance in bed with another guy.


Jesus. I don’t think they should be getting married. But I didn’t say that – I just told him about my brother and his wife, and how when things get hard she shuts down, and I pointed out that maybe that’s not a characteristic you should want in a life partner, and he was like, “Yeah, that’s what my girl does too.”   Awesome. Good luck with that.

So basically, he’s always worried she’s cheating, and she totally doesn’t communicate because she’s afraid of whatever, and WHY ARE THEY GETTING MARRIED.

I just told him to leave her alone for now, let her de-stress and figure things out. It may not be the answer he wants at the end, but what ever happens will happen and he can’t control all of that. He agreed.

I feel horrible for him. I can’t imagine being engaged and all of a sudden the other person being like, “Yeah, just kidding. I mean, I still want to marry you, just not now because of these bullshit reasons I made up…”

SO THEN!! Today I just asked “How are things” because I didn’t want to ignore that we’d discussed this all last week but I didn’t really want to bring it up either in case things went super south and he said she’d just called him and yelled at him because she failed a test and blamed it on him and the stress they’re having. WOW. So… perhaps this girl isn’t mature enough to handle marriage? Just a thought.

He goes on to say, “I’m about to have two rings handed back to me before I’m even 30. I am never getting married if this ends.”

And in the middle of my exercises, I just couldn’t hold it in, and say, “Maybe you’re asking the wrong girls to marry you.”

And to his credit, he laughed, and said, “Well, then I have no business being in a serious relationship if I can’t pick well.”

Basically, in my head, that translates to: “I can’t wait to fuck you.” At least, that’s what I think he meant. 😉



Saturday morning I woke up with diarrhea. I’ve mentioned in this blog before that I have diarrheal IBS – have had it for 20 years and it’s a condition I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.

It started after a trip to India when I was 15. We’d been there for the whole summer and on the last day, I shit myself.  I couldn’t even get to the bathroom in time. We’re packing for the plane ride home, mom’s yelling at me (like I did it on purpose) and the whole f’ing family knows. I was SO embarrassed.

And after that, my stomach was never the same (before there had ever been any studies, I KNEW that what happened on that trip was what caused my subsequent IBS.) I have to be incredibly careful when I eat, I’m never sure what’ll set it off  — I can eat pizza one day and be fine, have the same pizza the next day and be sick to my stomach – and have spent more time in my bathroom, cramping and crying and feeling like I’m dying, than I care to admit.

It’s hard to explain to people who don’t understand or have never dealt with it. It’s not just “an upset tummy.” It’s an upset tummy on steroids. It makes me want to die, and half the time I feel like I am – and then I start to pray that I don’t die sitting on my toilet cause that’s not how I want the cops to find me.

It feels like I’m shitting out my insides, and when I’m done, there is nothing in my body. I have no energy and no nutrients and am physically exhausted. All I want to do is lay in bed and sleep until I feel like I can eat again without my body trying to expel everything, but that’s no way to live life, so I push through and do the daily things I would if I wasn’t sick, just usually at a slower pace.

(So… imagine how I felt Saturday night – after the diarrhea, after the workout, after the hike and it’s 7pm and we still hadn’t eaten. I was starving and trying not to be cranky and just H.U.N.G.R.Y.. I mentioned to “the Bod” after the hike that I was tired, and he said, “Maybe you should’ve eaten lunch.” As I said to him, “Yeah, well, I didn’t want to have to shit in the woods so I thought that was a bad idea.”)

Luckily, my friend are all awesome and understand that if I’m gone for 30 minutes at a time, I’m probably sick and it’s best to leave me alone. I’m super open about my bowel issues because I have to be – what’s the most common first date? Dinner and drinks. And I never know if dinner will upset my stomach or not, so I tend to give my dates a warning. It’s not the most romantic discussion to have, but a necessary one when you’re dating me.  I carry Immodium everywhere I go. I’m never without it.

So Saturday, after I’d finished being sick all morning, I decided to still go in for my training session and just ask him to go easy. I found out a few sessions ago that my trainer has Crohn’s Disease, so we’ve discussed our various stomach issues since then.

When I got there, he asked, as he always does: “Hey! How are you??”

And all I had to say was, “My IBS flared up this morning. I can’t do abs today and need to take it easy.”

Him: “Sure, no problem. We’ll skip the endurance stuff, do some easy legs and still get you worked out.”

Awesome. Just awesome.

So then we’re just chatting about weight, how it fluctuates and how we feel about it. I told him that this 10 lb weight gain I’ve had is because, for about 2 years now, my IBS hasn’t been as bad as it was. My body actually is holding on to food and nutrition and although it’s annoying I’ve gained the weight, it’s the first time in 20 years I feel healthy. I’m not starving all the time. I can eat and although I still worry and it still flares up, it’s been far less of an issue than it has been before. I pray it stays this way.

He told me how when he gets his Crohn’s flare ups, he loses a lot of weight and his 6-pack shows even more – which some people find attractive and he hates, because it means he’s sick:

“If my abs are showing that much, it means I’m not doing well.”

And I understood completely because 2 years ago, I came back from a trip to Kenya.  I was sick while there and for MONTHS afterwards, couldn’t keep anything in my body. I would literally eat and shit it out within 10 minutes (and for those who think that’s impossible…it’s not). There was nothing in my system and there was nothing the doctors could do for me.

It was July and bathing suit season and all I heard from everyone was:

“Wow. You look great! Your stomach is so flat!!!”

And there’s nothing I could say but “Thanks” when really what I wanted to say was:


Cause, sure, I may have looked hot – but I was completely unhealthy and not able to keep anything in and tired all the time and not digesting. And  there’s no way to understand how it feels to look ‘hot’ but feel awful, unless you’ve been through it… and he has.

So when he told me how he felt when his abs show, I knew exactly what he meant, and he knew how I felt that even though I may have looked amazing, I wasn’t happy.

And to be able to discuss that with someone who actually understands is rare (thankfully) – but the fact that he’s my trainer makes me even more grateful, because he gets it. He gets my body and he gets my worries and he gets the issues, without being grossed out about it.

The weird part of this is, after those months and months of being sick, something happened and I could almost feel a literal change in my body – whatever was causing my IBS  – it wasn’t/isn’t gone, but it definitely wasn’t the same as it was. I can’t explain it. But I knew when that bout of “traveler’s induced IBS” was finished, there was something different. I knock on wood daily that it stays this way and doesn’t come back the way it used to be.

But the best part of this whole downer of a story is, while we’re talking about this and I’m doing my squats is he looks me up and down, with the ‘extra’ weight on me, and says:

“Yeah. You’re definitely fine. You’ve got nothing to worry about. 80% of the people in this gym would love to look like you.”

Damn. I am pretty sure a few drinks and we could get this thing done. And by ‘this thing’ I totally mean sex. With me. I wouldn’t even comment on how hot his abs are. 😉


So today was the half-way point in my sessions.  We took measurements at the beginning, and this was the first time since then that we were taking measurements again.

To sum it up (all of this is by .5 to 1 inch changes): biceps got smaller, triceps got bigger, thighs got smaller, calves got smaller, chest got slightly smaller, waist smaller, hips no change.

I was not that excited about the results, but he totally was. He said I’m ‘leaning out’ – and he thought it was great. Plus he said I’m getting stronger (which I noticed) and he said although I can’t see the changes on my own body, there’s a definite difference from the first day I walked in.

My body fat??? That used to be 31.7%??? UP TO 32.6%.

What. The. Fuck.

But, I also ‘lost’ 2 lbs (I don’t think I lost anything, really), and the boobs stayed the same – so a smaller denominator with the same numerator results in a bigger body fat percentage. At least, that’s what I think. Maybe I just got fatter.

SO THEN… we’re chatting and he’s talking about how I refuse to do sprints.

I couldn’t hold it in, and just say: “Ohmygod. I have to wear TWO sports bras just for the stuff we do in here. I’d have to wear SIX if you made me do sprints. I cannot do them.”

He starts to laugh, and says, “Well, I mean they’re not a bad thing. There are some perks to them being that size.”

Which made me giggle, and he got flustered and lost count of my leg raises.

I LOVE when I make him flustered. 😉



So even though my trainer is loud as fuck, I adore him. It helps that he’s easy on the eyes and I actually enjoy chatting with him, when he’s not broadcasting my information for the entire gym to hear.

Saturday, I went in for my session with him and we discussed ‘boobgate.’ He apologized, again, and we talked about how I maybe won’t see the percentage weight loss that he had thought I would. He also thanked me for bringing it up, because apparently, no one else has ever mentioned this before… good thing I have no filter.

Anyway, as I’m doing these awful chair squats, I see an older lady doing pull-ups. I whisper to him: “That’s what I want to do! I want to be able to do a pull-up!!!”


Me (quietly): “Shut up! You are so loud. She’s not deaf! Is her form really that bad?”

Him (loudly): “YES!”

And then he says, in the same loud voice (but I’ll save you from reading in all-caps):

“But you can’t always tell people that they doing something wrong, especially older ones. They get really offended when you’re just trying to help! It’s the testosterone when they’re working out and they don’t want to hear it. Old people just want to do what they’ve always done.”

Ok, I got the giggles. First of all, SHE CAN TOTALLY HEAR HIM! Secondly, dude, she’s not ANCIENT! And she’s trying hard to get a work out in… but he was not even going to bother going over to help, because he’s had people complain about that before (which, come on, I can totally understand why someone would complain).

I just looked at him, still giggling, and said: “She can hear you, you know. Jesus. When will you learn to be quieter?!?! Some old person’s gonna kick your ass.”  He was laughing too by then.

I like to imagine this scenario in mind almost exactly how it happened, except we’re at my place, naked, about to have sex. So basically, in no way exactly how it happened. 😉   In my delusional world, he’s thinking the same thing.

Last night, after finishing up a really good workout with my loud trainer, we went to schedule our next meeting.

As we’re doing so, I tell him that I haven’t noticed any weight loss. His response was that I should be looking at body fat percentage, not weight.

So I took this as my segue into telling him how I feel about the size of my boobs and that they contribute to my overall body fat percentage AND that since they are so big, and always have been so big, that I don’t think they should contribute to my baseline percentage. Basically, they’re not going away – they’ve always been as big as they are.  It’s been about 15 years with them, I don’t gain or lose in my chest and I don’t think it’s fair that they mathematically count against me.

So I told him, in a quiet voice, that obviously my breasts are rather large and they don’t change size, and that perhaps we should take that into account, because I would never lose the amount of body fat he wants me to.

Me: “Yes…”
Me: “Yeah, I understand, but I’m trying to tell you that they don’t change. They are always like this.”


I was SO PISSED. First of all, that’s not what I’m saying and secondly, SHUT THE FUCK UP. I don’t need the whole gym to know we’re talking about my damn boobs.

So I told him that: “Could you quit yelling my shit out loud? It’s embarrassing. Also, we’re not on the same page, so we can stop this discussion anyway.”

That got to him, and we finally talked about MY body and what I thought was the problem. He apologized for being so fucking loud. Did he not see me turning bright red? It’s one thing to talk about my boobs in a bar. It’s another to make it the loudest conversation in a gym.

He did say, though, that he would research it and talk to a female trainer to see what her thoughts were. That’s fine, and I was happy with that – we confirmed for Saturday. After I got home, we texted a little bit back and forth after and he apologized profusely for being such a loud asshole: “You’re not the first to tell me I’m loud. I’m so sorry. I have a tendency to holler”

My response: “You can holler at me when I have bad form, but not when we’re talking about my boobs.”

It’s embarrassing enough to have to discuss this with someone I don’t know very well. But then, on top of all of that, I have to worry that he’s going to broadcast it to the entire fucking gym. And honestly, given that everyone’s got an iPod in their ears, they probably don’t care… but I do.

I’ll see him Saturday for my leg workout and talk to him then, let’s see how quiet he is  😉



So I had my first real training sessions with my guy.  We go over the basics (height, age, weight) and just like last time, there’s disbelief in his voice every single time I give him an answer:

Him: “How old are you?”

Me (whispering): “35”

Him (loudly): “35?! REALLY?”

Yes dumbass. We went over this a week ago.

Him: “How tall are you?”

Me: “5’2″”

Him: “Really?!”

Me to myself: WTF?

Him: “How much do you weigh?”

Me (super softly): “120”

Him (super loudly): “Really?!!? 120?? Wow.”

Me: “Ok, are you going to believe ANYTHING I tell you?”

Him (laughing): “Well, I believe you’re a girl.”

That made me giggle too, because let’s face it, he’s staring right down my workout top most of the time.

SO THEN… we do the body fat measure. I have to hold out this stupid machine right in front of me, he input my height/weight/age and it gave a reading.


I looked around to see if anyone was listening. HOW EMBARRASSING! Of course, everyone is just working out with their iPods in and not paying any attention to what’s going on… and I’m sure his loudness was just me hearing things…but still!

So we sit down and he goes on to tell me I probably want to get to 26-27%. I basically looked at him like he had 2 heads because 1) I don’t think I’m 31% body fat to start with and 2) if I am, HOW AM I GOING TO GET TO 26%??? Does he see the size of my freaking boobs? WHERE DOES HE THINK THAT FAT IS COMING FROM?!!?!?  (I mean, besides my muffin top.)

It was a good workout (even if he did make me do jumping jacks – as my friend said, just so he could watch) and I’m scheduled for another session tomorrow. AND tomorrow, we’re taking measurements. I’m sure we’ll do it in the middle of the gym, loudest voice possible, with the numbers beamed up in bright neon for everyone to read. Sheesh!  Good thing he’s cute and I day-dream about fucking him… SOOOO cliche, but fun 😉








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