ANI MOLLER: Superior Content, Hot Text

My First Gym Membership

I am a nice girlfriend. Because I'm a nice girlfriend, I'm joining a gym so Ben and I can go together. I don't want to lose any weight, and I don't think I have a false self-image, but I wouldn't mind being fit. I'm what you would call the opposite of fit. Unfit. I wouldn't mind building some muscle definition so I don't look so much like a beanpole. Or at least, so I don't look like so much of a beanpole to my Father. He thinks I need to put on weight. I suppose I could do that.

Ben and I chose our gym carefully. Well, we knew it had a pool, sauna and spa and it had 24 hour access. It's a ten-minute walk from home, a little further than the two-minute and five-minutes walks to the two closest gyms, but that's okay because it's a little cheaper. And we get a couple of sessions with a personal trainer for free. And for the first time we go, we get a free fitness test.

In the first one minute of my fitness test, I thought my legs were going to fall off. However, even though I have done no form of exercise since I stopped taking Physical Education when I was fifteen, bar a couple games of tennis and sex, I was somehow classed as "healthy" (even though my heartrate jumped up to 180 in a couple of minutes. This confirms that I am actually a mouse.). Even though I puff after walking up 30 steps to the landing, I was classed as "healthy". Even though I get the stitch from walking around the corner, Terry the Trainer told me I was supposedly "healthy". Even though I smoke, well, you get the idea.

So, I started on a treadmill. Easy enough. Then to the rowing machine. I'm okay, but I think I'm doing it wrong. Then to the bike, and that's okay too. Now, to the hard stuff. We walk through to another room, and Terry the Trainer starts showing me some machines.

Bench Press: Finding it hard to lift on number one. I keep locking my elbows, and Terry told me that is bad.
Leg Press: I manage to do about five repetitions before my legs go weak. It's on the easiest level. I try to turn it down, but it's already down. I'm so unbelievably weak. Also, embarrassed.
Overarm Pull: I'm supposed to do my legs at the same time, but my legs are too short and I can't reach. Oh well. Terry the Trainer sets it to 1. Too easy. Turns it up to 2. Too easy! Up to 3. Still too easy! He asks me if I'm trying to be tough. I giggle like a retard and say no. He turns it up to 5. I know I'm the toughest girl in the world. Well, only until the next machine.
Tricep Pull & Bicep Curls: These are okay. I'm definitely going to get some muscles from doing these ones.
Squatting Pull: I'm not exactly sure what this machine is called, but you pull the bar from a squatting position. For this machine, I'm totally uncoordinated. I can't put my back in the right position, and it hurts so I stop.
Squats: These are okay, but oh so fucking boring.
Inner Thigh Dirty Old Men Like This One Machine: I've done these before. I don't need to try it out. I just know not to wear baggy shorts.

I have to do all of these things up to twenty times, and then do the whole thing again three times. I know I'm going to die.

Terry the Trainer takes me through to another room and shows me how to strengthen my lower back using some giant inflatable ball. I'm then supposed to turn over and simultaneously do sit-ups and keep myself from not falling over. I can't do it because the stupid ball keeps rolling. I opt for the floor.

I'm hot and even a little sweaty and Ben is watching me because he's finished and I feel dorky because I can't even do a sit-up. Why do I have to go to the gym? I don't about all this "nice girlfriend" business. Maybe I should let Ben go to the gym and I'll stay home, watch television, eat McDonalds and smoke cigarettes. Does that sound okay, honey?