My New Gym

I'm about a month into my new gym membership.  As the weather started getting colder, I decided my runs would be far more enjoyable indoors.  So I snagged a good deal at a gym on my block, and am quite happy with it!

When I first showed up, the trainer man (English name - Robby) did a full body scan for me on some strange contraption.  He then sat me down and drew pictures to try to explain that I needed to gain a lot of muscle.  A lot.  According to him, something to the tune of 16 pounds of muscle.  Right.

Anyway, that night, he brought me through an ab workout, and it felt... like death.  I was sore for days.  Apparently having a health regiment of running and yoga for a year doesn't do much for your core body strength.  Who would have thought?!

I took a day off after that, and came back the next day for just a run.  He wasn't too happy about that.  He told me that running was good, but I do it too much.  Need to focus on my anaerobic!

Now, I know what he's saying.  But that's just not what I'm going for.  The only reason for this membership was so I could have a place to run in the evenings.  Nonetheless, he continues to try to get me to do some strength training - one fun evening I agreed to do some partner exercises with him.  It was a riot.  But, honestly, not something I have the time or motivation to keep up.

About two weeks ago he decided to make my runs a little more enjoyable and moved me to a treadmill with a tv.  He then found the CNN Travel channel, completely in English -  and you know what?!  That run flew by!

When I was walking home, however, I realized that bouncing around while staring at a small screen a few inches from my face doesn't do good things for my equilibrium.

The best part, however, was not that I unfocused my eyes and made myself dizzy... no.  The best part was on my way out, when I tried to ask what channel he had set the tv to.  Trying to match the broken English he would understand, I said, "Thank you.  TV.  CNN.  What number?"

He heard, "Thank you for your help.  Can I please get your number."

So... he said, "My phone number?"  (With a twinkle in his eye.)

I looked around a bit, and realized that it was better to let things be awkward now than to let the situation snowball.  So I explained that it wasn't his phone number I wanted, but the number of the CNN channel.

The poor guy just smiled, blushed a little, and said, "Oh, my shameful.  My shameful."  Bid me farewell and hid his face as I waited for the incredibly slow elevator to reach my floor.