He MUST Be A Machine, Because Humans Have Compassion

The following is what you might have heard if one of my trainees were speaking to you after a session(in confidence, of course).

"...and then he walks in with that...that...that STRAP FROM HELL! He calls it a TRX Suspension Training System. Must be cyborg-speak for "exercise noose." I'll tell you who'd I'd like to hang with it. He dangles it from a crossbar, and makes me stare at it while we go off and do cable squats. It swings there, taunting me.

We finally get to it. Greeaat...he's putting it into single-handle mode. That means one thing: this will definitely make me want to let the air out of his tires when I leave.

"Ok down into plank, with one foot in the stirrup, then extend the other hip." What's that even MEAN!? AND NOW YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT! A scorpion hip flip? I stall. "Could you demonstrate that for me (ya jerk)?" Uh-oh...he just gave me that I know you're stalling look.

I know when I'm about to do something outlandish when he tells me things like, "I have a lot of confidence in you," or my personal favorite, "I have BIG plans for you." I have plans too. Should I tell him (or it) that those plans include my being able to walk when we're done here? Thank goodness. He's counting down..three, two, done. "Now other side. Let's balance out the madness." If I thought it would hurt, I'd punch him.

After a series of more traditional exercises, you know, ones that we who are not psychos do, we're back to the insanity.

"Ok, single-leg suspended lunges, progressed to a suspended burpee." (Sorry "BORG", but I left my robot dictionary at home, could you speak English?) Oh wait I got it.."Could you demonstrate that please?" No? Oh, ok. Well I guess you can't spell demonstrate without "demon". He didn't take the bait this time. Can you please send someone to the roof to retrieve my heart rate please? "It's your fault", he says. "For getting stronger." Now I'm really thinking about it as I place my hand behind my back, and make a fist.

I take a quick peek at the clock. I hope he didn't see me. He has one pet peeve, and that's the one. DAMN! ten minutes left, and he's got that look in his eyes.

I walk over to the noose as if I were just sent to the principal's office for swearing at the teacher. I shudder at the thought. Wait for it....wait for it...AHHH! Suspended crunches, pendulum swings, and something called an "offset oblique crunch." He's making this up as he goes along. "Are you making this up as you go along?" I ask. He knows I'm stalling again.

I fight through. "If you going to grunt, at least exhale," he warns. "WHEN I GET UP, YOU'RE DEAD!" Well, that's what I would have said if I didn't think next week would be worse. Done? Are we done? YES!!!!

Finally, a smile from "Psycho-Trainer". Maybe he does have a heart. Nah, who am I kidding. He's nuts. "Great job. I wouldn't have you do this if I didn't believe you could. I just need you to believe it as well." Apparently, the son-of-a-(insert expletive here) is programmed to say exactly what I need to hear to make sure I come back next week. It worked. "See you on Wednesday," I tell him.

In walks the next sucker..I mean victim..uh I mean trainee. "How was it," he asks. He can hear me, I know it. "Great! Great! I feel Great!" I lean in and whisper, "he looks hungry."

Hmmm...I've never actually seen him eat anything.