As you know, distractions at the gym tend to save me from giving up/never going/descending into madness.
Yesterday we went in the middle of the afternoon, so the gym was pretty empty. No distractions. Boring. Unable to tune out the pain of lifting weights.
Then she arrived. Silent Evil, our personal trainer.
She had a strange blue mark on her face. Apparently DIY, wooden planks and the force of gravity combined to give her a fat WHUMP! on her left eye. The dangers of doing chores around the house on the holidays.
Silent Evil couldn't talk for long - she was there to torture someone else. This poor, sweet, pretty girl was a lamb to the slaughter.
First we saw Silent Evil give the Lamb a very thick rubber band, about 2 feet wide, and make her put it around her ankles. Lamb had to keep her legs three feet apart and walk up and down the length of the gym. The poor girl looked like she was holding in diarrhea.
Then Lamb had squats, lunges and ten minutes running fast on the treadmill. Thank God we've never been made to do that! We always get the elipticals.
As we were leaving, Lamb was lunge-walking the length of the gym, holding heavy dumbells above her head. Her face was purple, her arms were red, she was panting.
"Just imagine," I told her, "that each step is you kicking Silent Evil."
"Yes!" she squeaked. "In the eye!"