8 March 2012

REINVENTION: THE BLIND DATE

So, I met my Personal Trainer for the first time today.

*squeals*

I have to say, it was like going on a blind date. We arranged a meeting spot and time. 3pm, Costa Coffee, Old Compton Street, Soho, London, England.

I got there, like, 20 minutes early because I wanted to make a punctual impression, but I didn't want him to think that I was too keen, so I walked around the block a few times.

*drama*

I came around one of those sneaky corners in Soho to realise I hadn't gone far at all and was faced with the same said Costa Coffee. I looked at my phone. Still 15 minutes to go. I panicked and darted into a bookstore and peered out the window like a not-so secret agent scanning for signs of a fit looking individual. There was a guy standing leaning against a pole. Maybe that's him. But how do I know? Do I just walk up to him and say, "Marios?"

BTW that's his name. I know, already sounding like an *adonis*

Anyway, the guy walked away.

So, I skipped out the store and walked over to the same pole and casually leaned against it.

Yeah, I'm cool, just waitin for my PT, thanks.

I dunno why I was nervous, but my heart was beating out of control. I've never really been comfortable around Gym types: I have this justifiable fear they are going to humiliate me. Once a Personal Trainer was giving me an exercise program as part of my start-up package at a new Gym I had joined. I was doing bicep curls when he quipped, "You should be wheeled between equipment to avoid doing any cardio".

Cunt. I never went back. Paid the full Gym membership, but never went back.

So, it's getting closer to the time and I think I should send a text message - a funny one perhaps.

Me: I'm here. Little bit early. I'm carrying a red rose. Just kidding. I have a grey hat on.

I'm sorry, when I'm nervous I make really bad comedy choices.

He then texted back: OK see you in 3

Don't think he got the blind date reference.

So he arrives. OK he's hot. Like, really hot. Which I guess is kind of a pre-req for a PT - you can't be a munter - but I didn't realise that was him on the website! I thought it was some fitness model or something.

OK this is gonna be a problem because when I exercise, I get really ugly. Like sweaty and red faced ugly. I am honestly going to find it hard to be ugly in front of this guy.

We shake hands. I nearly hugged him, not sure why.

We go inside and he orders a Green Tea and I *want* to order a Vanilla Latte, but I went for the Mint Tea option instead, saying something like, "It's really cleansing".

*rolls eyes*

We head to Soho Square and he asks me what I want to achieve.

To be your boyfriend, but I opted for "more muscle mass".

Then I realise something, we *are* basically entering into a relationship: he is going to regularly see me with not the freshest of faces, he is going to find out things about me I would rather keep to myself and I am going to hate him at times. Pfft. Why do I want a boyfriend and a Personal Trainer again?

Then the reality of the situ sets in.

"So, you will have to train 3-4 times a week if you want to see any results?"

I nearly spat my Mint Tea in his face.

3 comments:

  1. I think the type of cleansing you'll be needing is a douche, not a mint tea...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Then I realise something, we *are* basically entering into a relationship: this is true...but your paying for him...*bows and shakes head in shame*...love Alan

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  3. I'm picturing you being wheeled past me around the gym in st kilda, and then me being wheeled around also, but only because I am bariatric and can't walk. I feel EXACTLY the same way as you about gym. I flat line. Krusty xxx

    ReplyDelete

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