To the personal trainers of the world: Enough.

Here’s the thing. I don’t want your life advice.  I don’t need you to tell me I could “lose a little of that weight” or how eating breakfast is important. I got that. I know that. I don’t care about that and I probably never will.

This is partially my fault. I forgot my headphones, which left me wide open. This trainer sensed my weakness and pounced. He opened with a highfive because that must be the first lesson they teach you in personal training school. Instead of Always Be Closing, it’s Always Be Highfiving. This trainer proceeded to look me over and ask me what my fitness goals were. I said just to maintain my weight and get away from my children. Appalled he asked “Don’t you want to lose that little bit of extra weight and tone up?” Um. No sir. I do not. I like a soft layer of fat. Also I prefer my “little bit of extra weight” to not be talked about by strangers. It’s kind of a social contract that the rest of the fucking world abides by.

He then talks about the importance of adding mass & eating breakfast. He goes on and on and then asks if I’m following. I say simply and honestly, “No.” but dead eyes and zero response does not deter him in the least. He continues to talk about how he can’t understand how people (me) are okay with just maintaining. Don’t I want to push myself and make the most of the time at the gym. I do not reply in fear that it will somehow continue the conversation but this is my response: No. I do not. Me and mediocrity: We’re friends. Old friends. We love each other. I don’t need a body that misrepresents who I am as a person. I like a body that says, “I’m trying. Just not that hard.” I want to enjoy my life and my time at the gym. I want to drop my kids off so I can walk/run, do leisurely squats, see how Oprah doings. I have goals. They just vary from yours.

So trainer, I get that you have a job and I respect the hustle. I let you talk. I let insult my gym work ethic, talk about my weight and reprehend me for not eating breakfast. And I don’t even care about that. What I DO care about is you did that for 7 minutes. This time is precious to me. I have children to ignore and an Oprah magazine to read. So if you must be a pushy needledick. Fine. Just do it quickly.

 

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