Lex Luther…

While I’m aware that this is not the correct spelling of the name for Superman’s nemesis, it is the correct spelling of my new trainer’s name.  Luther.  In another language that name might actually mean ‘torturer’.  I’m just sayin’.

I’m going to be sore tomorrow.  I know that it is what I’m supposed to be doing, but I just need to remind myself that I can do this.  I know I can.  I just have to find the strength to keep going and to keep pushing.

It was a rough realization when he showed me my stats.  No one wants to hear numbers like those.  No one wants to know that all of the bad decisions that I’ve made over the past few years have made me weak.  And flabby.

Oh well, I want to be fit.  I want to be thinner.  I just have to suck it up and do it. 

Luther is a funny guy.  Not in a ha ha kind of way, more in a I’m not going to take any crap from you kind of way.  I did make him laugh though.  Not in a bad way.  I just tend to make jokes when I’m in an awkward situation. 

I might have said I felt like I was going to be sick.  I might have said that I couldn’t possibly do sit ups because I’m sure I’d left my legs on an elliptical machine.  I might have said I was going to cry.  I might have been exaggerating.

Each day I’ll be stronger.  Each day I’ll be better at this.  I won’t feel like it’s impossible.  I’ll surpass my low expectations.

I’m not going to lie.  I might still say I’m going to cry.  I might actually follow through if he makes me do more shoulder work.  Who knew that carrying around a big purse does not qualify as an upper body workout?  Why wasn’t I told?

I feel the burn. 

Now, where did I put the Tylenol?

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