silver4's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Back at it I'm in love with my personal trainer. Well... in a fitness way. I love that the man listens to me and talks to me and pays attention to me and pushes me and encourages me a ton, and doesn't see me as a piece of meat or as someone to flirt with or get nervous talking to. He sees me as a client, and as anything else he looks right through me and I absolutely love it, because we get awesome work done. I mean, I could give him credit by saying oh he's married so he won't give a shit about me, but, well, we know my streak with those ones and my assumption/ theory about my fancy pheromones directed towards them, so I am super cautious lately. Whatever it is, he doesn't see me like that and it is perfect. That but mostly all the workouts he has me do and the machines he makes me try, I feel like my arms and body are going to fail me, but that's what I need to feel. I love it and I'm sure I'm going to get the results I want to get soon. I do think I need to gamble on these Vegas machines or something to make some extra training money, because I really can't justify the spending on further sessions when I have hundreds of thousands on loans to pay back starting up again soon. Enough about the man who stares at my body and ignores me. On to the front desk guy who stares at my body and won't stop talking to me. This is the guy who recruited me in to the training area in the first place. Full of energy, like coffee and red bull had a child (well maybe not that intense...) and put him in front of me every time I check in. There's no escape, except for the days that he doesn't work. I show up 15-20 mins early for my workout so I can get a 5-10 min warmup before my session. This guy is obviously hitting on me and trying to get to know me, asking all those questions that you ask people when you are flirting in a bar or whatever social single setting. I mean...yeah, the gym is social and all, but come on. I come for a reason, and I admit this guy is cute, but he better keep it as it is because I'm the type that if a guy hits on me too much or asks for my number who works at a place that I frequent, I end up losing that place and having to find a new location. I already lost a convenient Capriotti's sandwich shop. I like this gym dammit, even though they don't have a pool. Anyways, he was full on "casual" flirt mode, and i kept glancing at the clock and time kept going and going, and after he asked me if I had kids and made what he maybe thought was discreet but was instead a fairly obvious glance for a wedding ring (my arms were folded and hands tucked hah), I told him I really had to get my warm up going (I was down to five minutes). Very draining indeed. Anyways. That is all. Trainer rocks. 7:39 a.m. - 2012-01-11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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