“Babe, your going to have to help me work out.  I’m just not doing it well on my own.”

Yes, those very words actually came out of my mouth.  Yes, I said them to the former Marine, current firefighter, extremely dedicated-to-the-gym man that I call my own.  It was a moment of weakness, a moment of frustration with that stupid girdle thing I wear to fit into my once well-fitting work pants.  Sheesh.

I have been going to the gym pretty regularly for several years now.  The problem is that I go, I jump on the elliptical machine because it’s the easiest thing for me, I plug in my ear buds and watch Food Network for 35 minutes and then go home, feeling all good that I “worked out.”

I must admit, My Man is a wonderful personal trainer, which is most likely why I most likely pled my need of assistance to him. (The fact that HE doesn’t have to wear a girdle thing means he must be doing something right.)  So I meet him at the gym after work three days a week.  This has been the first full week.  I have been sore every.single.day.

I show up.  “What do you want me to do, babe?” I ask.  He sends me to the elliptical machine for a measly 10 minutes.  (Now how am I supposed to watch the full episode of Chopped in 10 minutes, I ask you?)  Then he takes me to the gym rat section, you know, the place with the weights and the guys with shirts that have the sleeves ripped out of them.  I’m fine with being in the gym rat section seeing that I have my guy with me and he’s got bigger muscles than most guys there…no one dare make fun of me as I struggle with my 10 pound weights.

Then to “the circuit.”  This is something of My Man’s own devious creation.  It’s tough.  I tell you, I’ve done those Insanity workouts a couple times…I am by far more exhausted after Caleb’s “circuit.”  After which he says, “This really isn’t a lot, you know.”  “Oh.shut.up.”  I gasp as I lay on the floor.

Afterwards, he asks me if I want to jump back on the elliptical for a little while.  I decline.  We then walk out of the gym, my legs jerking and swinging like a puppet’s because they keep wobbling and giving out on me.

I am so thankful for my Personal Trainer at the gym.  As we work side by side on his “circuit,” he is so kind and encourages me to keep it up, don’t take shortcuts, don’t quit.  He pushes me to do more and more each day.  He sweats and wheezes alongside me.  He teaches me what to do and how to do it.  I love him, like A LOT.

That girdle’s days are limited, I’m tellin’ ya’.