Merciful goddess ...

[tyggerjai]

So I had another session with Ambrose today, and I think I'll be keeping him.

I've been doing, for the last week or two, some pretty basic exercises - shoulder presses with dumbbells, lat pulldowns, tricep pulls. 3 sets of 14 reps, at the appropriate weight. And I was doing them OK, but feeling a bit of a burn at the end of the third set. So Ambrose, today, during my first set of shoulder presses at 17 lb, kept saying "That's really good", which seems to mean "Working at that level is unlikely to actually kill you.". At the end of my first set, he said "Too easy", which seems to mean "Your arms are still attached", and is apparently always followed by the sentence "Let's increase the weight.". So he grabbed the 20 pound dumbbells, and said "Try these". And I thought "Fair enough - the third set will hurt, but hey, I'm moving up!". Did a set. "Too easy!". Uh, no, not really, but I think I'll cope. "Let's increase the weight.". Oh, let's not, and say we did. 30 pounds. Somewhat shaky set, but I did just make 14. "Too easy!". Yeah, but you can't increase the weight! I'm done! HA! "Try one more set, at 35".

Cunt.

I got 6 reps in and the left shoulder (broken collar bone, fractured ball joint, weaker arm to start with) gave out, dropping a dumbbell on my chest (well, on Ambroses waiting hand, but it *would* have been my chest). "Yeah, really good! Keep working like that from now on, just increase the weight until you can't lift it."

This pattern, of course, continued. My lat pulldowns went from 3 solid sets of 14 @ 60 pounds, to 14/14/10, very shaky, at 80/90/100 pounds. Don't even *ask* about the triceps. And he's pleased about my breakfast. Inordinately. His eyes actually lit up, I swear, and when I mentioned that lunch was salad sandwiches 3 days a week now, and that I was only eating serious dinner (take away/eating out) 2 or 3 times a week because, dammit, I wasn't hungry in the evenings I swear he brushed away a tear. And we did a whole new type of Ab crunch, just as I was getting used to the old ones, and twice my usual oblique stuff. And now I want to die.

It's odd, though. When I finished the last set of everything, and was lying on the floor wishing it would swallow me, I was convinced I'd stagger to the bus stop, collapse onto a bus, drag myself through my front door by my lips, and collapse. But by the time I'd changed, and got out of the Gym, I decided to walk home, did just fine, and now I feel like I could do the whole workout again. Except when I actually try to lift someting, when I realise I'm actually weak as a kitten. But I don't feel bad, at the moment. Just a little tired.

So I'm keeping Ambrose, once a week, though it's more than I wanted to spend, because, well, he really does get extra effort out of me. We shall see what happens when I've trained myself to enjoy this particular pain - I might be able to push my self past the barrier more easily.

Oh, sweet Jesus, there is no turning back...

sol.
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