Time to Face the Music

This Saturday, January 17, at 10:00 a.m., I face the dreaded fitness assessment with Steve.
Steve is this guy at the gym who kinda talked me into signing on for 8 monthly training sessions for the next year at a cost of $200 per month. I'm not at all sorry that I made that decision, 'cause me and my pal Bikki (my trainer) are working my A** off... literally.

When I met Steve for my first "fitness assessment", it was really more of a "out-of-shape assessment" where he basically informed me that I am middle-aged, obese and on death's door if I don't take drastic measures such as signing up for a year of twice weekly training sessions. My pride was kinda hurt, and so was every muscle in my body, as part of the "fitness assessment" entailed a 40 minute grueling work out which ALMOST did kill me. I know that he enjoyed every moment. Perhaps it was something I said, like "bring it!" when he first called to schedule my "fitness assessment." Seriously, I have GOT to learn to keep my mouth shut.

After the workout and the dire predictions of my certain demise, I was asked to set my fitness goals. Having been tortured and yelled at by Steve, the only thing on my mind was revenge, so I wrote down "to get fit enough to kick Steve's ass." Seriously, it's in my file at the gym. (Let's hope someone else doesn't get to him first, 'cause, I kinda said it out loud too, and in front of witnesses. And I may have even repeated it a few times since then.)

So, this Saturday, Steve and I meet yet again, to "assess my progress." (please imagine a sneer on my face.) I know I have lost weight, my clothing is looser, my jowls are shrinking and my boobs don't try to escape from ANY of my bra's now. So I am confident that Steve will have to give me some prop's for my hard work. Oh, he'll talk a good game, and say stuff like "C'mon you big baby, you can do 5 more push up's!" or "Suck it up Princess..." or other inspirational stuff. but deep down, Steve will be afraid, very afraid.

Stay Tuned!