I had my first lesson with my personal trainer, who is an adorable gay man, with killer abs and who says "oh, Bless" after everything. He's fab.
He had me hanging upside down by my feet doing sit-ups. He says, "You'll really start to feel that in your abs". I give him a murderous red faced glare "What do you mean "start"" and burst into a grin. His reply: "Oh bless".
At one point I have my ass hanging off of a giant green bouncy ball doing crunches while holding a dumbell in my hand, he asks me, "is your ring Tiffany's"? "Why yes, my Mom has the necklace that matches" "oh wow. I've had my eye on that ring" "They're soo comfortable" I reply. I had a suddent urge to take him out of that sweaty gym, get all dolled up in kitten heels and shiny pants, go for cosmos and good old fashioned girl talk in some swanky bar. Instead I let him talk me into taking his spinning class. Now the last time I took a spinning class I had a full Wolfgang Puck's meal in my belly and was two glasses of chardonnay to the wind. I ended up falling of my bike, badly scraping my leg and ran out of the class. I made it this time. All grueling, chest burning, thigh aching 30 minutes of it. I need to quit smoking. I also now have sore bike riders crotch which is never worth it if not accompanied by an orgasm. Oh Bless.