Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Don’t Worry I Won’t Fart On You
For last couple of months I finally have gotten serious about my health again. I've been hitting the gym with the homie Carl and even got myself a trainer. Throughout my life I've been pleasantly plump (with skinny periods in kindergarten and a brief stint as a creatine-drinking college student) and always went on diets only to gain the weight back. Having a trainer now is extremely helpful; when my fat ass thinks I can't do one more rep she calls me a bitch and threatens to rape me with a dumbbell, pause. Her name is Maria (insert Jesus/Maria joke here) and she’s a good teacher. I'm at the stabilizing stage which is code for losing the fat.
In the past I've been used to doing regular routines but with Maria, well, she’s the creative type. She has me doing lunges like crazy, go up and down stairs with dumbbells, balance myself on one leg and lift a midget. The leg exercises are usually the most painful and adventure-filled. Adventure I say because I always fear I might push to hard and my ass becomes Willie Colon or for the non-Latins Miles Davis. I'm sure she's gotten farted on and even quiffed on before but I don't want to feed into the “fat guy” stereotype. Not all chubbsters fart at will. All in all it's going great. I'm losing inches, pause, and gaining stamina. Plus, I always make sure not to eat any beans (force of habit) before I my training session. Have you ever had a personal trainer?