Health Plan Heaven

 Dear Diary,

 For my birthday this year, my Husband (the dear) purchased a   week of  personal training at the local health club for me.

 Although I am still in great shape since being a high school  football cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good  idea to go ahead and  give it a try.

 I called the club and made my reservations with a personal   trainer named Christo, who identified himself as a 26-year-old  aerobics instructor and  model for athletic clothing and swim wear.

 My husband seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The  club  encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.

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 MONDAY:

 Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found   it was  well  worth it when I arrived at the health club to find  Christo waiting for  me.  He is something of a Greek god-- with blond hair, dancing eyes,   and a dazzling white smile.. Woo Hoo!!

Christo gave me a tour and showed me the machines. I enjoyed  watching the  skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics  class after my workout today. Very inspiring!

 Christo was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was  already  aching from holding it in the whole time he was around.  This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!

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 TUESDAY:

 I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Christo  made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then he put  weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made

 the full mile. His rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT!  It's a whole new life for me.

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 WEDNESDAY:

 The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the  counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a  hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer

 or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot.

 Christo was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other  club members. His voice is a little too perky for that early in the morning  and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.

 My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Christo put me on the stair  monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an  activity  rendered obsolete by elevators? Christo told me it would

help me   get in  shape and enjoy life. He said some other shit too.

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 THURSDAY:

 Jerk was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half  an hour late-- it took me that long to tie my shoes.

 He took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran  and  hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny bitch to find me.

 Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine-- which I sank.

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 FRIDAY:

 I hate that bastard Christo more than any human being has ever hated any  other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic,  anorexic, little aerobic instructor. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it.

 Christo wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if  you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the damn barbells or  anything that weighs more than a sandwich.

 The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher.  Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the  choir  director?

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 SATURDAY:

 Satan left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice  wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing his voice made me  want  to smash the machine with my planner; however, I lacked

the  strength to  even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight  hours of the  Weather Channel..

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 SUNDAY:

 I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and  thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my  husband will choose a gift for me that is fun-- like a root canalor a

 hysterectomy.