Tuesday, June 9, 2015

     When I visited my new trainer at the gym today, I had to chuckle about a few things. First, she’s 12, but extremely knowledgeable. She told me not to focus on the negative (Oh, you mean the crepey, sagging part of my body?), but to “accept,” and nurture the positive. Yeah, right. Easy for her to say with her perfect skin and $150 running shoes. I’ve been on runner withdrawal for twenty years. She is very cute, and I am becoming a mean girl at 71. 

     She told me to check off all the boxes for any diseases I have. There was no box for  “old-lady depression.” I always love the question, “Did you fall in the last year?” Do they ask college students that question when they fill out the health form? I’m sure more of them have fallen after a binge or two than I have in my entire life. Ok, so I fell once last year. I slipped on some rain in my bare feet at a restaurant. If they didn’t have such wonderful taco salads, I would have sued them, but I just crunched away at my taco shell and endured the pain. Fortunately, there was no damage (to me, not the salad).

     Anyway, I have no diseases (yet), so she looked impressed. She couldn’t believe I still have it goin’ on in my 4 inch stilettos, despite a swollen knee that I am ignoring. I am telling myself it’s just saggy skin with nowhere to go, not an inflamed meniscus. She asked if I had any other issues that she should know about. I told her about my leg top, but she didn’t seem to be concerned. Easy for her to say. Her entire leg is the length of my calf, and she weighs 49 pounds. My last trainer told me that if I wanted to get rid of the saggy skin to gain weight. Not on your life, Buckaroo! I spent three quarters of my days losing weight, I’m not about to gain any back. We all know it will go right to the abs, not to the boobs. Knowing my luck, I’d have no crepe, but instead I would sport a AA cup and a 32” waistline. Nope, not going there.

     She told me that I need to do at least 30 minutes a day of cardio. I do 20, but that doesn’t count yelling at Mr. Wonderful or the drivers on Market Street which take a great deal of muscle. I guess that doesn’t count. So I must add another 10 minutes to my program. 

     My first session is in two days. I told her I am extremely disciplined, and I will do whatever she prescribes (within reason). My target is “firm” in eight weeks. There is no money-back guarantee, but if I don’t see major progress, I will focus on the positive: there’s a brand new bottle of vodka in the cupboard, and my birthday is coming. If Mr. Wonderful is lucky, I’ll pour myself two or three glasses, and put on my suit:)