So I saw my personal trainer again yesterday, and at the beginning of our session, he asked me:
"Would you mind if one of our student trainers shadowed our session today? She's in the training program and if you're comfortable with her watching us work together, then I think it would be very good experience for her." I, of course, didn't give a shit, just another person to shock and appall. Her name was Wendy. She was tiny, overtanned and looked like she needed some pink polka dot bows in her hair. Cute, sweet and all that. So good ol' Glen begins this trialogue (now that there are three of us involved) by asking me some questions, in an effort to get little Wendy thinking about how to deal with her clients' needs. Most of it was repetitive shit that he'd already heard answers to the other day. Medical constraints, Goals, and finally:
"And Morgan, are you training for anything specific?"
"Yeah, I'm training to be fuckin' sexy and specifically, lookin real good nekked!"
Dude about lost it. Wendy was confused. They made an acknowledging eye contact, at which point I called them out on by saying, "Yeah that's the shit he warned you about me saying in your little pre-game preparation chat, isn't it?" Morgan 1, Glen 0.
I also shared with them the made up names I have for many of the weight machines and exercises that I do. Here are a few examples:
The hip ad/abductor machine = The Bad Girl
tricep curls=bingos (because they keep you from getting flabby arms, which are also known as "Bingo Wings")
anything on a big stability ball=wallowin'
my ab workout on the small stability ball=the tempest, because I take it by storm and the aftermath is devastating.
I have tons more, a term for almost everything I do at the gym really. And of course when I explain these I refer to them very seriously.
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