So, I started this blog awhile ago. I was encouraged to do so by Alexandra Jermaine Beatty who suggested that instead of constantly chatting to her about food, I should create a blog in which I talk about food... because I love food. I can't tell you how many times I go to restaurant websites to obsessively plan what I would order at said restaurant. I rarely, if ever, follow through on my faux-dinner menu plans. If you know me, you know this is true.
However, for some reason I just couldn't be bothered to blog about it. I made one attempt at it before, but I ended up going off on a "racist" rant about people who read ghetto novels on the subway (*See: anything by 50 cent or has a title like "Forever a Hustler's Wife: A Novel"). Whatever. How can you not judge people who read those books? Fo real.
As the name of the blog implies, I eat too much. I drink too much, as well. Sometimes the two intersect and I do both at the same time. This inevitably leads to a little extra junk in the trunk. As I work a regular 9-5 job and on weekends, it means that the extra junk in the trunk piles up because I don't have time to "hit the gym" as often as I need to/want to.
Since I don't work weekends during the summer I decided that I need to drop the junk in my trunk and get back into some semblance of "shape" while I have the time off. Now, I could accomplish this as I have in the past by combining a diet with excersise (revolutionary!), but who has the time and patience for that? No, I decided I needed a personal trainer.
The initial decision was easy. I need someone to yell at me and a boogieperson to mentally be there for me to stop me from eating a fourth slice of cake with less than 4 scoops of ice cream per slice. I need someone to tell me that what I've been doing for the last 3 years at the gym is counterproductive and astoundingly retarded. I thought I could buy a lot of Men's Fitness magazines and piece something workout plan, but when I browsed them online they just advocated eating protein. This just didn't seem that helpful (to be fair, though, by "browse them online" I meant "take 10 minutes one day to read their food sections").
Based on all that, I finally made the decision to hire a trainer... but which one? My gym has lots of them. Over the course of the last few weeks I've been mentally evaluating each trainer I saw and judged them based on a personality I imagined they had and reasons why they intimidated me.
Did I want the woman who reminds me of Serena Williams? Not so much. There's something intimidating about a woman who is in far better shape than me and is far more muscular than I ever will be.
Did I want the way too skinny white guy who probably doesn't work out at all cause his metabolism is so fast and he's never had an issue with losing weight? Or, if that isn't true, he must work out obsessively and never eat in order to keep up his 72 pound frame? Either way I disqualified him. Fuck you skinny guy. Fuck you.
How about any of the gigantic black guys who could bench press me with one hand (quite an accomplishment)? No. That won't do at all. I'm a pasty and portly Englishman who has no desire to be bench pressed by someone who can do so with just one hand.
Then there was this one white chick... and I thought, I could deal with a white chick and all.. but.. she wasn't in THAT great shape. I mean, you know, she was definitely in GOOD shape.. but she wasn't in GREAT shape.
Now, I see what you're thinking. If I don't want someone who's in great shape, or too muscular, or too skinny, or not in great shape but still in good shape... who the fuck do I want? Well... I'm a judgemental, bitter, pasty, hairy, portly Englishman. I rarely make sense.
So, finally, it all came down to two guys. One I nicknamed Skeletor and the other I nicknamed Not Skeletor. Skeletor was nicknamed because something about his face reminded me of a skull. Not Skeletor got his nickname because.. he wasn't the other guy. Both made it through the body-type qualifications based on Art's advice of, choose someone whose body is something like you would what. Both Skeletor and Not Skeletor are pretty regular looking people who are in good shape. I aspire to that. I don't aspire to crushing little Russian girls' dreams of tennis greatness with my non-gender applicable muscles and gnashing teeth.
Ultimately, Not Skeletor won the golden ticket that leads to attempting to personal train me. Factors in this include: he is not Skeletor and he seems to have more free time on his hands and thus was far more approachable.
This Monday I finally made the plunge into approaching, meeting, greeting, and scheduling with Not Skeletor.. and let me tell you.. it was awkward. Just.. I dunno.. imagine me approaching a personal trainer.. to ... train me? Yeah. I think even the awkwardness of this attempt to describe how awkward an awkward situation was can't capture the true awkwardness of it all. Long story short, I have an appointment with Not Skeleter this Saturday at noon.
Even if you don't know me, you've probably already picked up on my SLIGHT problem of over analyzing and getting really anxiety-ridden over something as seemingly simple as picking a personal trainer. So, since I had met Not Skeleter and knew his real name, I figured.. why not just look into his life via google? Katy was quick to assist me as by now I had dragged her into yet another portion of my terrifying life.
It turns out Not Skeletor went to college somewhere in Staten Island (thank you facebook!) and placed in the 140's in various cross country races throughout high school and college (thank you various high school/college sports websites!).
I'm not a runner. He is.
I don't understand the thrill of running. He obviously does.
He CHOSE to go to school on Staten Island. I'm.... speechless.
Stay tuned for this Saturday.
