We have a personal trainer. She speaks very softly and hurts us, so we call her Silent Evil.
Our first session was painful. We huffed and we puffed and we sweated and she just kept on giving more instructions, quietly, like a leathal weapon with a silencer.
I found myself watching the clock from only ten minutes in.
"Now we'll do lunges, ten on each side," she cheerfully whispered.
I fucking hate lunges.
"Now fifteen push ups on this bar... Straigthen your body, drop all the weight.... Good job!"
My arms are going to fall off! Forty minutes to go... we're already one third of the way in.
"Now fifteen squats," she breathed.
I feel like I'm taking a dump in public.
"OK, now let's do fifteen forward lunges."
I hate hate hate hate hate fucking lunges! Twenty minutes to go....
"OK, sit here and push like this. Let's do twenty."
"Let's"? I don't see YOU doing a damn thing!
"Is the weight OK for you?"
If you mean is it killing me, then yes.
"OK, now let's start at the beginning and do another round."
Let's WHAT?!?!?!?!
Eventually she took us over to the stretching area and she brought out some mats. I started to relax, thinking that here come some nice, gentle stretches, lying down.
Nope!
Three sets of ab exercises. More pain.
Eventually we got to the stretching part. She had us do a routine where we started with Cat Cow back stretches, pushed back into Downward Facing Dog, putting weight on one foot and then the other to stretch calves and then lifted one leg to sweep it forward into Pigeon.
I'm used to yoga, but Fluffy Bear was suffering.
He was ranting when we went home.
"What the hell was she doing? I couldn't even see how she got into those positions, let alone get into them myself! What the hell? [Imitating Silent Evil's soft voice]. First, put your left toe in your right ear. Now balance on your left ring finger. Aaaaand streeeeetch! What the hell with this Yogi Bear crap?"