The past few days have been very sunny here on the Canadian Prairies. Sunny days make us remember that although the rivers are still frozen and the thermometer is still hovering way….WAY below zero degrees Celsius, spring is on its way. More importantly, after spring – it’s summer!
So as this bright sun reveals the beautiful sparkles in the snow, and the radiant blue sky, it reveals some other, less beautiful things as well.
Things like pasty white skin, created by spending the cold grey days inside.
Things like white flabby upper arms. Though they were once amazing and toned, they now show the effects of watching Duck Dynasty reruns while powering through many bags of chips all winter. Well OK, maybe it took more than one winter to develop these bingo wings….
Things like thighs that, although still amazing, are taking a bit more arranging than usual to get into those tight little jeans….you know, the ones that used to be my ‘fat pants’.
And so I came to the realization that it was time to stop watching Miss Kay, peel my slightly flabby, but mostly flabulous body off the sofa and get active.
I lack motivation when it comes to exercise, so I decided to find a personal trainer. I didn’t need to look very far…. it turned out that a very effective personal trainer was right nearby.
My friend Wendy introduced me to my personal trainer. He is German. Very very german. From Germany German. He is working on his English, making for a bit of a language barrier to begin with, but while he gets used to the Canadian accent, I have taken the initiative to learn some German as well in an effort to make him like me….and maybe he’ll go a little easy on me when I get tired.
He is a gorgeous specimen too. He’s a very muscular brunette with hardly an ounce of fat. He can run at a steady pace all day long and never seems to get tired. He’s really tough, and takes no pity on a tired, out of breath woman in her 40’s. Just what I needed!
My personal trainer has an assistant, Lola. Lola helps with the workouts because she thinks it’s fun. They are kind of like good cop/bad cop. While Lola is running ahead of us, smiling and enjoying herself, running back to check on us, then turning and running way ahead as motivation for where we should be, Buck keeps dragging me forward, barking at me to run just a little further before stopping to die. I can’t help but feel a bit inadequate.
Lola has stamina and strength, a very toned body and gorgeous sparkling eyes that never look tired. Lola also has 7 kids! Two have grown and moved on, but there are still 5 at home. In fact, she gave birth to her last baby only 10 weeks ago, and here she is running for miles without showing any signs of being tired. She’s german too, but born in Canada. Those Germans are amazing.
As far as I know, my personal trainer ‘Buck’, (definitely not his real name), is unattached. I can tell that he has a thing for Lola….and who wouldn’t, she’s gorgeous….but she has made it very clear that she isn’t even a little interested. I think her hands are full with all of those babies.
Reflecting on my trainers, I’m pretty sure that I suck. I am pretty certain that they sit around laughing about my lack of form and stamina long after I have left to go and have a nice nap while my heart and lungs heal up so I can do it all again the next day. They assure me that they actually think I’m pretty great, and this is motivation enough for me to run with them again tomorrow.
I took their picture.
Aren’t they amazing?
Buck’s methods are questionable. He’s a great motivator. He encourages me to start running, but when I can no longer breathe and I start to slow down, he throws me to the ground and drags me for a while until I get my feet under me again. I can make him stop, but he always looks so disappointed in me.
I bought a leash that I don’t need to hold onto, one that I can clip directly onto my body. It soon became clear that this was a very bad idea. I’ll stick with the leash I can let go of.
Lola just loves running back and forth in front of us. Sometimes she brings a ball, and for a while I can throw it, but after a few minutes of dragging behind Buck, the ball gets left at the side of the road until we pass by again.
My sister-in-law, who is super athletic, gorgeous, and competes in cross fit challenges offered me these inspiring words of advice….
“You should wear nylon so if he pulls you through the snow you’ll slide easily….hopefully back to the house.”
Great image. Now where did I put those nylon parachute pants from 1985? They would come in really handy on my run today.
” If your dog is fat, you aren’t getting enough exercise”