Personal Torture (Training)

"Yo Bro! Long time no see! How have you been man? Following the exercise plan I gave you?" my PT (Personal Torturer Trainer) exclaimed, heartily slapping me on my shoulder as he did so after a long, relaxing hiatus due to reservist.

Whereupon I somewhat sheepishly informed him that no, not once had I referred to the comprehensive three week program he'd given me prior to Reservist. A program I had explicitly requested for. In fact, I hadn't stepped into the gym since I left for reservist in the start of May, only managing to haul my lazy ass off to the gym last Sunday for a 45 min jog on the treadmill that left me positively winded. It's amazing what one month of inactivity (exercise wise) does to your physique in general and fitness level in particular. Nothing pleasant for sure.

And unlike the truly dedicated or passionate, the rest of us mere mortals are usually afflicted by a crippling inertia to start working out proper once we've been lulled into a period of blissful languidness, of sweatless slacktitude. Inertia that is only broken by overwhelming exigencies that shatter that stupefying reverie which for some might be the constant, insistent cajoling of health freak friends or for others the desire to feel that endorphin, exercise induced rush.

For me, it's that mortifying thought that everything would literally head down hill and congeal comfortably around the fatal midriff region. That and the equally horrifying notion of eventually looking like certain individuals in the office. At any rate, thoughts sufficient to break through that sluggish inertia andcompel me to arrange for today's PT session.

"Wah! 4 weeks never exercise! Brudda, you damn jialat. Never mind! Today we start slow, get you back into shape." My PT said chirpily. I was comforted, being under the impression that it'd be a slow yet competitive work out that'd ease me back on my abruptly (albeit a little pleasantly) interrupted journey to a hard six pac and a mean toned bod. (Ah, we can dream can we not?) I was so wrong. I should have realised that Mr PT had said that in the same tone in which I inform my clients that while your initial deposit is XXX, rest be assured that if there is any left over after your case concludes, we'll refund you the balance.

The work out started out fairly well. The first couple of sets went well and I was actually starting to think that 4 weeks of inactivity hadn't done that much damage when Mr PT went ahead and burst my bubble with "Ok. Those sets were really easy. Baby also can do. They were just to get you used to the feeling of weights again. Now we start the serious one." And it all went downhill from there.

A couple of sets into the 'serious' workout, I was beginning to get winded and the muscles which I was once aware of started protesting stridently. "Wa. Can't even press this amount? Sure or not! Your 4 weeks in Army so relax ah?" Mr PT baited, punching me lightly on the chest while I was faltering at the shoulder press. Any harder and I'd have dropped the weights.

If there's one thing I'm glad for (I guess) it's the fact that Mr PT is so terribly unattractive, which is good because I can focus on the work out and not Mr PT. Which is not something I can say for some of the other PTs at the gym. A couple of whom are incredibly attractive and I am absolutely certain that if either of them were my PT, PT sessions would take on a whole new allure but might not be very effective. After all PTs need to assist with certain exercises or weights, some of which may involve the PT being in very close physical proximity with you and certainly some physical contact. And if you're doing weights, focusing on the touch of a person rather than the weights you're supposed to be lifting is ..erm.. not going to be productive to say the least.

Though like I was telling Yisa, you don't go to the gym to pick guys up (though it can't be helped if guys pick you up haha) and attempting to hit it off with your PT (even if possible) is not financially feasible. After all that's what special friends are for right? haha. So thank goodness for fugly Mr PT. Bless his perverse heart.

By the end of the session, after more baiting, cajoling and admonishments to 'push yourself all the way, all the way, this was nothing 4 weeks ago!!', I was positively winded, a little light headed and my legs were starting to cramp. In that moment, I almost (and I say almost) felt a spark of sympathy for the colleague who joins us for our basketball games, collapses like clockwork after a couple of games, hands clutched at his chest/belly, legs kicking in the air, while he grunts and curses long unadulterated strings of vulgarity in hokkien. Much as I dispassionately observed (after laughing my head off ) to the Gang, like woman in labour, position, screams and all. Alright, maybe a very vulgar, balding woman in labour.

"See you Thursday Bro! Don't die on me ah!" Another hearty slap on my back as I was trying to catch my breath and he went off. I suspect that was his way of getting back at me for not showing up for 4 weeks. Even though my reservist was only for 3.

They said that there's no gain without pain. That's true. At least for exercising and getting back into shape is concerned. Though it doesn't make that truism any more comforting. The things we do for vanity fitness.