***
I'm supposed to be in the shower. The black ninja anxiety is back, and so if it's dark I remember that I'm going to die. Me! Me! It's impossible. The trainer at the gym asks what my goals are, and I laugh. I laugh because I've been working out a long time, and I've had many great trainers, and he isn't going to be one of them. He's used to girls coming in, wide-eyed, looking sheepishly at the cannisters of Muscle Milk and the silver packages of high-fat high-sugar energy bars, sliding their beep cards across the counter and whispering that they'd like to be thin, please. I say, "I want to live a long time," and he is visibly startled. When I have my personal consultation, I will go into more detail. I want more balance and flexibility. I want to know my way around the cables better. I want to be sure of proper form on the free weights. I want a healthy back and a strong core. "Can you do that?" I'll ask. I know he can't, not really. Any real, licensed trainer worth their salt in Southern California doesn't have to work for 24-Hour Fitness.
I'm just bitter because my wonderful, beautiful gym went bankrupt and closed its doors out of nowhere and now I have to go to the jam-packed 24-Hour Fitness with the in-house educated trainers and the cannisters of Muscle Milk - I mean, really. Gross.
***
Anyway, I'm sitting here mildly sweaty because I don't have the energy yet to take my shower and do all that post-shower nuttiness that's required. It's the ninja stuff. Mister Aran says it's not that I'm lazy, it just takes so much energy to be scared all the time. After I had The Bug I'd just lay in bed with the heaviness of it pressing me down. I couldn't get up. It seemed hopeless.
***
I have a warrior now, level 19. I like that sprint thing.
posted by Samus @ 9:46 PM
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