Bulma's Weekly WorkoutFor my birthday this year, Vegeta purchased me a week of private lessons at the local health club. Though still in great shape from when I was on the varsity science team in high school, I decided it was a good idea to go ahead and try it. I called and made reservations with someone named Lars, who said he is a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and athletic clothing model. Vegeta seemed very pleased with how enthusiastic I was to get started. They suggested I keep an "exercise diary" to chart my progress.
Day 1.
Started the morning at 6:00 AM. Tough to get up, but worth it when I arrived at the health club and Lars was waiting for me. He's something of a god, with blond hair and a dazzling white smile. He showed me the machines and took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill. He seemed a little alarmed that it was so high, but I think just standing next to him in that outfit of his added about ten points. Enjoyed watching the aerobics class. Lars was very encouraging as I did my sit ups, though my gut was already aching a little from holding it in the whole time I was talking to him. This is going to be GREAT.
Day 2.
Took a whole pot of coffee to get me out the door, but I made it. Lars had me lie on my back and push this heavy iron bar up into the air. Then he put weights on it, for heaven's sake! Legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made it the full mile. His smile made it all worth while. Muscles ALL feel GREAT.
Day 3.
The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the tooth brush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I am certain that I have developed a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer. I parked on top of a Volkswagen. Lars was a little impatient with me and said my screaming was bothering the other club members. The treadmill hurt my chest so I did the stair monster. Why would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by the invention of elevators? Lars told me regular exercise would make me live longer. I can't imagine anything worse.
Day 4.
Lars was waiting for me with his vampire teeth in a full snarl. I can't help it if I was half an hour late, it took me that long just to tie my shoes. He wanted me to lift dumbbells. Not a chance, Lars. The word "dumb" must be in there for a reason. I hid in the women's room until he sent Greta looking for me. As punishment he made me try the rowing machine. It sank.
Day 5.
I hate Lars more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. If there was any part of my body not in extreme pain I would hit him with it. He thought it would be a good idea to work on my triceps. Well I have news for you Lars - I don't have triceps. And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me any barbells. I refuse to accept responsibility for the damage. YOU went to sadist school, YOU are to blame. The treadmill flung me back into a science teacher, which hurt like crazy. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like a music teacher, or social studies?
Day 6.
Got Lars' message on my answering machine, wondering where I am. I lacked the strength to use the TV remote so I watched eleven straight hours of the weather channel.
Day 7.
Well, that's the week. Thank goodness that's over. Maybe next time my husband will give me something a little more fun, like a gift certificate for a root canal.
