Gym Rat

After getting what was apparently the extra nudge I needed from my soon-to-be brother-in-law, I finally bit the bullet after about three (or has it been four?)years of procrastination, and joined the gym. Whether I did this to get healthy and buff and feel better about myself, or to meet new men is completely immaterial. The important thing is that I joined. And I'm happy to report it's been a great experience so far!
I had an appointment to take a tour of the gym and discuss membership options last night. So, I showed up in my white capri pants, coordinating black and white top and gold wedge sandals. Seemed like appropriate gym orientation gear to me. It certainly turned a lot of heads...or was that my dazzling smile, captivating laugh, sparkling eyes and silken hair turning those heads? Probably all of the above.
I don't know if it was my nerves, or all of the testosterone surging around me, but I was in rare form, even for me. Even I didn't know what had gotten into me. As I was toured around the gym, my Tour Guide questioned my knowledge of where my triceps were- back of the arm, of course. He challenged me to do 2 dozen crunches on 2 different ab machines- DONE! And said he wasn't going to introduce me to the free weights yet...at which time I let him know I like doing free weights- especially working on my "guns." Did he think I was a novice just because I showed up overweight and in gold sandals? Silly gym manager/membership guy Tour Guide!
I talked up a good game, and even impressed with my crunches, but I admitted to my Tour Guide that I was completely intimidated by the whole scene. It was overwhelming. Apparently, the place is about 40,000 sf...can that be right?, and it was jam packed- meatheads lifting weights, girls bouncing around in the aerobics room, guys playing basketball, spinners spinning and seniors swimming in the indoor pool...and that was just the first floor! He assured me that Monday night was the busiest of the week, and it's not always that crowded.
Along the tour I was introduced to a personal trainer who happened to be crossing my path...he was a 5'7" Pitbull, weighing in at 208, with about 12% body fat. I didn't see any fat, just bulging muscles everywhere. We shook hands and Tour Guide said he'd get me a training session with Pitbull. Then he asked me if Pitbull intimidated me. I said, "No, I like him." There was something about Pitbull that made me feel very comfortable....like I could just walk up to him and push him in his pumped up pecs and say, "Hey, help me get buff!"....but that's fast forwarding....
Although I was extremely hesitant to walk in there tonight, I did. I joined the gym and summoned Pitbull to train me. He promptly sat down next to me, muscles popping, and seemed quite happy to see me. He asked me why it took me two days to come back in. I said, "Two days?!? I was just here last night...must have just seemed longer because you missed me!" I'm telling you, I was out of control! But, he admitted he did miss me and that he'd called me last night to see if I was coming back in today. Hmmmmm. I checked my call log, and sure enough he'd called shortly after I left the gym.
We sat there chatting, volleying sarcastic, silly banter, as if we were in a bar instead of a gym, while he filled out my "training paperwork". I think this was a ploy to pump me for personal information. "Do you have someone to support your efforts and encourage you to reach your goals, a boyfriend?, he inquired. "Smoothe move", I replied. How much do I want to weigh? How tall am I? How old am I? Seemed kinda one-sided, so I asked him all the same questions back! Pitbull is 33, moved here from Philly six months ago following the end of a long term relationship, he worked as a mason up North, and is half Italian and half Irish, to which I replied, "Could there be a worse combination?" And the guy gave it right back to me. Pitbull matched my wit, jab for jab. I knew I liked him yesterday. And right there and then I told him he was going to be my new best friend! He was quite agreeable to this idea.
Then,things took an ugly turn. Granted, he gave me fair warning that he was about to weigh me and test my body fat. I told him I found this extremely rude! But, he persisted. Before I stepped on the scale, I turned to him and asked if I should take off all my clothes first. Again, a witty comeback. The numbers were off the charts and I told him his machines must be broken. But he wrote the numbers down anyway. With this part of our mini-date concluded, it was time to work out. After breaking my body down into 3 sections, he asked me what I wanted to work on today. I chose shoulders and tris. He then took my purse from me and hid it behind the counter for me, suggested I actually take my water bottle with me, as opposed to leaving it on his desk, and then he held my towel for me as we walked to the machines. Said he was going to whip me with it if I didn't work hard enough. And I've been busy looking for a Cavalier King Charles?... who knew what I needed was a Pitbull?!
As we went from one arm sculpting machine to the next, he adjusted my weights and seat positions for me, counted my reps and sets (jokingly counting down from 100), encouraged me and helped me along when my arms became to noodle-like to do it on their own... all the while, chatting and I guess flirting....but it just seemed friendly to me. He asked me where I live. Asked me what I like to do. I said, "Drink." When I asked him what he likes to do, he said he'll drink with me. I asked him if he drinks beer, considering his Philly Irish-ness. He said beer, or Scotch...I forget which label he mentioned...Black or Blue? He asked if I'm interested in getting a trainer. I told him, "Yes, because I'm very lazy, and I need someone to push me." He said he'd give me a deal I couldn't refuse. I said, "Yeah, you will." Then he told me I was going to get him in trouble...for asking me out, and for keeping me as his own "client". Apparently, he manages all of the personal trainers. He was supposed to meet me, assess my needs and personality and then set me up with a trainer who would be a good fit for me. Upon him explaining this to me (and knowing that his personality fit mine just right, and I would accept no other trainer), I looked around the gym and asked, "So, which trainer would that be?" When I looked back at Pitbull, he replied, "You're looking at him." The whole thing was comical and funny, but best of all, fun.

The next thing I knew, I was done being trained. That was the most fun I ever had exercising. Then it was time for cardio. Pitbull retrieved my purse for me and walked me up to the cardio room. He set me up on the treadmill, which had fans in it, and turned them on for me, saying they're great for lazy people like me! How dare he use my own words on me! He re-confirmed for the umpteenth time that I'd be back in on Thursday morning for my next (free) session, and apparently we have a date next Saturday...the drinking kind, not the working out kind. I thanked him for his help and told him I had a lot of fun. Pitbull really listened when I told him I like a lot of attention. If he could have done the exercises for me, I think he would have. Before he left me there on my walk to nowhere, I asked him, "How many tattoos do you have on that body". To which he replied, "Want to see?" I told him I was looking for a brick layer during my 24 hour whirlwind tour of Philly last year. Who knew I'd find him at a gym in South Florida. Thursday we pump up the guns!!