Stop Laughing

For some reason, those that know me seem to find this fact hilarious: I have a personal trainer. Have had one since December, in fact. What's more, I'm fairly dedicated and have enjoyed it so far. Still, my peeps giggle when I say that I'm going to the gym, or that I did chin lifts.

In fairness to my detractors, I can understand. I am usually comfortably seated, smoking and dishing out ingenious witticisms and never run unless my life is in danger. I also have developed an aura of calm verging on aloofness or paralysis. A famous example is when a bar fight broke out in a local pub and, in the chaos, a chair was hurled in my general direction. Extrapolating its trajectory, I knew it would miss me so I just kept drinking and conversing while panic gripped the room. When one factors in my disdain for physical discomfort and my refusal to wear white socks outside of a gym/yardwork context, I can see where they're coming from.

So fine. I am not known for vigorous physical activity. But that is not entirely true, for these people have also seen me bounce insanely (both vertically and horizontally) while screaming "fun faggot!"- one of many similar examples. And, I will also add that I give myself a chubby when I see myself in the gym mirror, white socks and all. So I don't get why they are so amused. We'll see who's laughing when my "training" is done and I throw them out a window.