Evil trainer-dude

Since I've been going to the gym, I usually stick with my Couch to 5K Plan on the good 'ole treadmill. But, the other day, I thought I would spice up my routine by attending one of the classes. I knew there was a "Body Sculpting" class at 5:15. "Oh, good," I thought, "I really could use some muscle definition and I need to do some weights." Boy. Was. I. Wrong. Let me give you a break down of my inner monolouge:

5:00 p.m. - The nice, good-looking trainer told me that the class "isn't that hard". I asked him point blank, "Can out-of-shape fat girls do it?" He said yes. I can believe him. He's a trainer. He wouldn't lie to me. He wouldn't make me look stupid in front of a class.

5:10 p.m. - Finishing up my mile jog/walk. Almost ran a whole mile today without stopping. BIG accomplishment for me. Guess I better get some cardio in since this is a body sculpting class that will involve weights and little cardio.

5:12 p.m. - Dang, this class is full. Dang, all the spots in the back are taken...I will have to be up front where I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Dang, there are a lot of skinny people in here. Dang, why are there mirrors everywhere? I don't need a reminder of how fat I am while I'm working out. The mirros must be for the skinny bitches who like to look at themselves. I want to be a skinny bitch.

5:15 p.m. - I really like this trainer guy. Wonder if he's single???

5:20 p.m. - I hate this evil trainer.

5:22 p.m. - We are using the stepper. I thought the step class was at 6:15. Where's the weight training portion of this?

5:24 p.m. - He just said we are about to get started. Um...was that an evil joke? Beads of sweat are falling from my brow...and you're telling me that was the warm-up?

5:25 p.m. - Just caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Kill me now.

5:30 p.m. - Hate the class. Like the music selection.

5:33 p.m. - The music changed to a Kesha Cole sappy love song. I'm having a Jillian Michaels emotional moment. Am I tearing up right now? Oh my gosh. I am.

5:35 p.m. - I will never trust a trainer again. "Not that hard" = "you may pass out at any point during this exercise."

5:36 p.m. - I glare at the trainer. Yeah, I stopped. What are YOU going to do about it? (I am now doing the "white people dance move" where I tap my feet back and forth. It's all I have energy for at this moment.)

5:37 p.m. - I am bent over in some weird postion and he's asking me to bring my kness up to my chest. Yeah right. The spare tire around my waist makes that IMPOSSIBLE.

5:38 p.m. -Are you kidding me?!

5:40 p.m. - Glad I'm wearing my black pants instead of the gray ones...because I'm definitely sweating in places where I want no one to see...

5:41 p.m. - The lady next to me is 60 years old and has a better butt than me. Wonder if she is wearing spanx?

5:42 p.m. - The girl in front of me has no rhythm. He. He.

5:45 p.m. - Oh. My. Gosh. What time does this class end?

5:46 p.m. - Contemplating a fake emergency phone call and leaving.

5:47 p.m. - Fake an emergency phone call and leave.

5:48 p.m. - Have to walk through ALL the people in the class to leave. I feel glaring eyes that say "You aren't finishing?" No, I'm not. I made it through 30 minutes of hell. That's enough for one day.

5:49 p.m. - Can't wait to see that evil trainer dude tomorrow and give him a piece of my mind. And I have no desire to know if he's single or not.