I (Alex) went to the US for two weeks and decided it’s time to (once again) get into shape. Too much food and wine during our adventure travels over the past year had made my shirt stand out a bit more than usual.
So, off I ventured to the nearest fitness center, joined up and asked for a personal trainer. After carefully eyeing me over, the lady at the reception told me: “I know a PT who can shape you up.”
Enter the PT. He seemed to be my age but apart from that, we had nothing in common. His muscles were bulging and he had a perfect six-pack under the t-shirt (and you have seen the photos of me).
We started training. I was forced to do push-ups, lift weights, push-ups again, cardio, push-ups, crunches, more push-ups. After nearly fainting, I was finally allowed to have a “break” involving a few Jumping Jacks. He saw my pain and even showed sympathy like a drill sergeant feels towards new recruits. The session continued. Have you ever tried the plank? After 30 seconds your stomach is on fire and your whole body starts shaking.
He did give me one day off (sort off). It was after the first week he took me aside and said: “Alex, I think you need a rest, come down tomorrow and just do a couple of hours of cardio, no big deal, try the treadmill or the stepper, just to keep the blood flowing.”
End result? I have gained 2 kilos (hey, don’t laugh, it’s all muscles in the right places) and Hanna says I look fitter than ever. Huurray!!!