Time to get serious

Time to get Serious

For those of you following my journey to fitness, you no doubt are seeing a few patterns emerging. One is that in spite of my humorous account in the blog, I am taking this whole thing seriously, and the other is that I need to LEARN TO KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT.
At my most recent training session, Bikki (My trainer) (Geeze if you don’t know that by now, you have not read back far enough in my blog! C’mon, get up to speed, or not much from this point forward will make sense. ‘Nuff said about that.)
Anyway, I was showing Bikki the results of my fitness assessment, and he seemed pleased. I say “seemed” because Bikki does not tend to show much emotion. He just sort of grunts and nods or frowns. I assume that nodding means “Way to go Jan!” and frowning means “If you don’t stop whining, I will crush you like a bug.” Personally, I prefer the nods.
So, Bikki grunts and nods, and even says “nice”. Then he turns to me and says “O.k., it’s time we get serious here. Next workout, we’re going to kick things up a notch.”

OMG!!!!!!!! Time to get serious???? WTF!!!!!!!!! I thought that doing 75 squats, with 3 minutes of stair stepping after 25 reps was fairly serious. I consider going back and forth from doing 20 ab crunches to 20 leg extensions (with 65 pounds of weight) without stopping to catch my breath and then doing another 3 minutes of stair stepping to be a noteworthy effort. And what about those 60 leg presses I did, pushing 160 pounds with my fat little legs… is that not what one might consider significant? (not to mention 30 minutes of steep hill race-walking afterwards.)

So, what do you think I said to Bikki, when he told me it’s time we get serious? See if you can choose: Did I say…
1. Why Bikki, whatever do you mean by “serious?” Or
2. WTF do you mean “serious?”Or, did I look him right in the eye and curl my upper lip and say:
3. “Bring it, Bikki.”
(actually it was a combination of 2 and 3)
Yes, that’s right. I have brought certain death upon myself, because my mouth always wants to write a cheque that my ass can’t cash.
For those of you who work with me, if I don’t show up for work on Friday, check the hospital and failing that, the morgue.