My blog is all about personal anecdotes, and you may have noticed that lately my blog posts have been a bit sporadic (if “sporadic” means non-existent). Blame my whole lack of doing things or maybe blame the folks I’m around for carrying on like normal people are supposed to (“normal” as depicted on television, film, or a Norman Rockwell painting – all great sources of reality, and it’s actually quite mind boggling (dare I say disturbing?) that the people I know are behaving in such a way). Let’s face it, If someone isn’t methodically slamming their grocery cart into the back of mine repeatedly instead of saying, “excuse me” or you know, moving around my cart obstacle, it can be challenging to tease together a blog-worthy story. (Ok, I suppose that guy never actually made it to the blog, but mostly because I wasn’t bolstered by a pitchfork carrying mob or in the presence of a bruiser of a bodyguard to shout, “get ‘im!”at.)
A few weeks back, a certain mouse suggested a blog post based off a comment about the gym. I’m going to run with that idea, since there’s only so much I can tell you about my photo appearing in the local online paper’s “A List” (it’s all about timing and a Santa hat) or going to see Postmodern Jukebox (YouTube video below).
Austin 360 – Conspirare’s Big Sing! Event
Anyway, back to the story about the gym.
Since I started actively going to the gym in August, I’ve learned that my trainer and I have very different understandings when it comes to the definitions of words. I personally blame her Midwestern upbringing – maybe the harsher conditions or plain living affected her brain adversely. Who knows? Granted, I realize that people outside of Texas may find this statement ironic or even scoff at the idea that Texans can actually get anything right (insert a few political jokes here), but I contend based on my limited interaction with this delightful Missouri native, that I have a better understanding of words – at least when it comes to adjectives.
On any given weekday I arrive at training dressed in my gym finery with my hair pulled back, holding my water bottle (lest I be stuck drinking spit as she’s suggested before), and exuding my pluckiest, “it’s 5:30am!!!!!” attitude, which may look like I’ve been hit in the face with a door repeatedly, but it’s an exceptionally plucky door. On a couple of those days, I meet up with my trainer Jenn who always declares, “you’re going to LOVE what we’re doing today; it’s going to be so much FUN!” She somehow manages to deliver this news with a straight face every time. Clearly, she’s not a person to be trifled with should a poker game break out (as you know they often can do in the middle of a gym).
This is usually where I tell Jenn, as she’s doing a little dance, because “fun” and “love” somehow also involve an impromptu dance or song, that I don’t think she understands the meanings of the words she’s using. See, her idea of “fun” and “love” usually involve me temporarily losing my ability to move easily out of chairs for a day. On days where things are “super fun”, I lose that same ability to move easily for multiple days – maybe even a weekend. Pitiful noises including tiny gasps and whimpering echo quietly through the office or house. I dread “super fun” days. Thankfully, those days occur less often. In fact, I haven’t had a true “super fun” day in months. I don’t tell Jenn this in the event she gets worried we’re not having as much “fun” as we could.
Just recently a new word, “chipper,” was added to her twisted vocabulary. I wish she’d waited until she was a little more clear on “fun” and “love” before jumping into a brand new word, but what can you do? “Chipper” is very similar to those other words in that its definition is the exact opposite of what a normal person would expect. You see, upon exploring the topic of a “chipper,” which is used as a noun of all things, I’ve learned you definitely won’t be anything close to “chipper” (the adjective) upon its completion. Instead, you can expect to be sweaty, exhausted, or even a little unsteady, but likely not chipper as what once passed as muscle becomes rubber, and you contemplate how long one can lay on the mat breathing heavily before others become alarmed. “Chipper,” in her crazy upside down world, describes a series of events designed to make you cry. I think “they” (the gym “man”) uses it as a way to lure you in – a good old fashioned “bait and switch” technique. “Here Beth, we’re going to do something “fun”, you’re going to “love” it, it’s called a “chipper.”” A sentence that roughly translates to, “you will probably hate your life, but thanks to your early onset senility you’ll likely do this again and again, because hey we’ve called it a “chipper””.
I think they may be right. As I finished my chipper last week, and went about returning all of the various equipment (you see, a chipper also involves hoarding all loose gym equipment Smaug style, but said like “smog” instead of “sma-ooog” because that’s just silly), I passed by Jenn who cheerfully called out, “how did you enjoy that chipper?” And I, being sensitive to her vocabulary challenges, called back, “it was fun! I loved it! It was my favorite!” This prompted her to give me a thumbs up and misuse another word in response, “AWESOME!!”
I then took my “awesome” self back to the locker room ending another “awesome” moment at the gym. Of course, tomorrow I’ll be back at it for more “fun,” more things I “love,” and ready for another day where I “chipper” my heart out even though the meanings of these words are a bit mixed up.
And now for some Postmodern Jukebox – a GREAT show! Thanks to Ben for introducing me to them and April for going with me as part of my birthday month silliness.
Yeah, trainers live in alternate realities where their words mean the opposite of what they say. It’s really annoying. Twice, I was told we were going to have “fun” at boot camp and we did the stupid 12 days of Christmas work out. They tell you to do one thing like plank for 30 seconds. Then you do two things, then the one thing again. Then three things, two things and that stupid plank again. You get the point. You do that until you get to 12 and then go all the way down to one of course. Yeah, super fun. You guys just made an annoying g Christmas song even worse. I hate you. Hugs to you though. You rock and look amazing!
I wish I’d remembered the “12 Days of Christmas”; you can tell I blocked it after being traumatized by the name. We did that one over the holidays, too. Instead of planking, the thing I got to do the most was row, which was “fun” maybe the first, second and third time, but by the 12th I was lucky to be able to tug the little rower handle. We even had a debate that went something like “I think you miscounted, I’m pretty sure I’ve already done 12 of these.” It didn’t work, but it was worth a shot.
Hope you guys are doing great, and hope Ollie had a great time with his second Christmas!
Chipper? Torn between memories of perky director on that TV series The Love Boat and the more practical (and just as annoying) wood/tree limb gobbler. Both somehow had a vague evil tinge about them.
Impressive you’re sticking at it! ( and now I’ll slink to the treadmill…)
Thanks for the nod to the mouse!
I was telling my trainer about my post this morning, and she told me that she did something that I swear she called a “bleep”. I responded with, “that’s probably the only accurately named activity at the gym”. She then described the bleep, and i stand by my words. I’m also thankful I haven’t been introduced to said bleep and many more bleeps might follow. And the Love Boat comparison completely applies; Julie and my trainer are both that brand of mirthful evilness, but golly it makes them so happy and they look so cute while doing it.
Hope the kingdom is battering down for another bout of cold(ish)!
On Wed, Jan 20, 2016 at 11:17 AM, The Big Blue Mess wrote:
Hard to resist petting them on the head, isn’t it?
Cold with sun would be ok, but all this rain, fog, clouds….normal January.