Trainer and Trainee

Let's face it, I've been seeing more of my trainer than I have of my friends and family of late. We've been meeting three days a week, and on days I don't work with him, we often at least have a quick "What's your cardio for today?" conversation.

In December, I was a little worried that he would turn out to be all business, all the time. Both B. the Sadist and C. the Sweetie were talkers, and G. is, by his own admission, difficult. Hey, he said it, not me. But as he has gotten to know me (and everything I eat, my weight, my measurements, when my next period is, my dating life, my work drama, and what size jeans I wear), he's become friendlier and friendlier. Still, we both thrive on sarcasm and telling it like it really is. Like Wednesday of last week:

Me: So, what's in store for Friday? What are you going to have me do?

G: I dunno. What do you want to do?

Me: Resistance training. Every time I do cardio with you, I end up really suffering.

(Just about now, G's boss walked by.)

G: (laughing) That's not true!!

Me: (laughing) Yes it is! How 'bout the time I threw up? Or when I almost cried last week?

G: You had a bad week. That workout was GOOD for you.

Me: True. But still, it was hard on me.

We met halfway on that one--Friday found me doing a ton of jumping, but nothing so stressful that I lost my lunch or cried.

I'm glad we can be frank with each other--he lets me know when I'm not holding up my end of this whole deal, and I let him know when he pisses me off. I'm also glad that we get along well, because believe me, this wouldn't be half the successful venture it has been if he behaved like, well, a certain person I have to deal with at one of my schools who doesn't know...oh, crap, I won't finish that sentence.

Anyway, my workouts fly by when I'm enjoying myself more, so being able to banter back and forth with G. helps a lot. Take today. We walked outside, behind the gym, to do some skips and sprints. He assigned me ten reps--skip 50 yards, sprint back. I won't be scoring any game-winning touchdowns any time soon, but even G. was impressed with how much my sprinting is improving.

After skipping down and sprinting back a couple of times, G. asked me, "So, how was your weekend?" We'd already discussed his--a snowboarding adventure in Tahoe for his birthday--and I managed to gasp out that I'd had a good weekend.

"This weekend I'm going to Mom and Dad's, though. Saturday is Dad's birthday."

"Oh, a Pisces, like me!"

"Yeah, though I would have pegged you for a Leo." I received a blank look in reply.

I started another round of skipping, and as I skipped past him I chirped, "Leos, you see, are vain and cocky."

His laugh followed me that whole fifty yards.

(P.S. Leos who might read this, don't jump down my throat. I am one of you.)

As I left this afternoon, G. started mumbling something about the six miles I'd do this weekend.

"WHAT? You are seriously upping it again?!?"

"You just told me you've done three miles in under thirteen minutes this week! Six miles has got to be nothing!"

"No, it's not! Dude, five-and-a-half miles is boring. I don't run the whole time! I walk half of it!"

"But you've been running so well!"

"Yeah, but I can't sustain it for five miles yet!"

"Hmm. Okay. Well, I'll think of something else, then."

I laughed somewhat hysterically and retorted, "Yeah. I'm sure you will." G. just smiled evilly.

Never a dull moment with G. the Meanie. He keeps me on my toes, and I give him enough attitude to keep him on his. It works well--I weighed in at 179.1 today. I haven't seen a seven in the tens spot in I don't know how long.

Yeah, it feels pretty good. : )