A Week At The Gym

During lunch one of my friends mentioned he was going to start a workout program, which got me to thinking about one of the funniest email forwards I have ever read.  It’s posted after the jump, and fair warning, there are two curse words in it that makes this read PG-13ish.

Dear Diary,

For my 40th birthday this year, my wife (the dear) purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me.

Although I am still in great shape since playing on my college football team 25 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.

Called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Belinda, who identified herself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swimwear. My wife seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started!

The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress


Started my day at 6 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Belinda waiting for me.

She is something of a Greek goddess, with blonde hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile.

Woo hoo!

Belinda gave me a tour and showed me the machines. She took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill. She was alarmed that my pulse was so fast, but I attributed it to standing next to her in her Lycra outfit. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my workout today.

Very inspiring. Belinda was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time she was around. This is going to be a fantastic week!!


I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door.

Belinda made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air, and then she put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. Belinda’s rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel great! It’s a whole new life for me.


The only way I can brush my teeth is by lying on 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 okay as long as I didn’t try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a Geo in the club parking lot.

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

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

Belinda told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other stuff too.


Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed as her 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.

Belinda took me to work out with dumbbells. When she wasn’t looking, I ran and hid in the men’s room. She sent Lars to find me, then, as punishment, put me on the rowing machine — which I sank.


I hate that bitch Belinda more that any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic little cheerleader. If there were a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her with it.

Belinda 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 *&%#@? barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. (Which I am sure you learned in the sadist school you attended and graduated magna cum laude from.) 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?


Belinda left a message on my answering machine in her grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing her 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 11 straight hours of the Weather Channel.


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 wife (the bitch), will choose a gift for me that is fun — like a root canal or a vasectomy.

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One Response to A Week At The Gym

  1. Pete says:

    Honestly, I had two thoughts immediately:

    1) Keith, you look great for just turning 40 (then I remembered it was a forward)

    2) That did not go anywhere I was expecting. LOL.

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