The evil PPT

I don’t wish to be overdramatic but I can’t move my upper body this morning – my hands are fine for typing – phew! but my arms, shoulders and back have pretty much seized up.  This is all on account of my evil Pocket-sized Personal Trainer.  Pocket-sized because whilst within his own proportions he is a big strong lad, he is nevertheless diddy ie. not very tall, I mentioned this once and he wasn’t impressed!  but then I’m not very tall either so I reckon it works fine …    The upshot is that he is “small but perfectly formed.”  That’s OK to say isn’t it?  

Anyway, said PPT gave me the hardest session I’ve had so far on Friday afternoon.  Or maybe I was just being a whimp? Apparently I’d used up all my rests in previous sessions (I do have a tendency to talk a bit …) so I had NO RESTS.  Supersets all over the shop and the pause between the supersets were only as long as it took for the next exercise to be explained.  I’d pushed myself so hard I had sweat dripping off the end of my nose (attractive eh!) and I also had to lie down for 10 minutes before I could even manage to have a shower! Honestly, I can’t quite believe that I pay for such abuse!  

OK, so dramatics over – I do know why I pay for it, its because I enjoy being pushed and a good old natter when he’s not being mean!  I push myself quite hard already, but sometimes when I’m workingout alone I get to 16 reps out of 20 or whatever, catch sight of myself in the flippin’ mirrors they insist on having in these gyms, realise I’m tomato red, grunting and sweating profusely, have an attack of vanity and give up!  No chance of that with the PPT, if I give him a “please let me stop” look, which he interprets as a dirty look, that’s when I hear – “… and another 10”.  I love it!