The Personal Trainer

Nancy opened her eyes and stared at her bedroom ceiling. She smiled in spite of the fact no one could see her happiness. She had lost twenty pounds, all by herself. The diet worked.

She felt good about her decision to lose weight. For the last five years she had holed up in her house and gone about the routine of work, home and bed. One day she hit a wall, actually a bathroom stall. She overheard a couple of co-workers talking.

“That dessert Nancy made for the company pot luck was scrumptious. She gave me the recipe and I can’t wait to make it for our next family dinner. I still feel bad about her husband passing.”

“Yes, but did you see Tom?”

“Tom? He was there eating and talking, why?”

“If you had taken your eyes off the food plate for once, you would have seen the eyes he was making at Nancy.”

“No way! He's been a widower for years, never dated anyone in the office or outside as far as I've heard.”

“You'd have heard, my nosey friend.”

“Thanks, there's nothing exciting about my life, I live it through others.”

“We all do. I watched Tom, much of the time he stood in the corner watching Nancy. He smiled when she laughed and he ate that dessert like it was the last piece he'd ever eat, it was almost sensual.”

“Hmm? Maybe we should do some matchmaking.”

“If we could just get her to do a make-over. Some new clothes and maybe lose a few pounds, not that she is fat, but shed some pounds and you have to buy new clothes. Then the guy might step up.” There was a long sigh as if the task was too daunting and they both left.

She was almost glued to the seat by the time she made herself move. That was two months ago. She started a diet but the two women must have given up on the idea of matchmaking, as they never spoke to her about it.

She made a decision to join the local gym and met her trainer the day before. He was young and fit and she was not remotely attracted to him. He'd been hired for the hour and put her through a work out that left her sweating and wondering how she was going to keep it up two days a week.

The alarm began its buzz and she turned to shut it off. Pain shot through her side and arm. The insistent noise grew louder as she fought through the sensation but couldn’t move. With determination, she threw herself over on her stomach and slammed her palm on the button.

The muscles in her arm resisted her every movement. She tried to move her legs, but they didn’t respond to her brain’s command and when they did nerves screamed at the effort.

Panting like she was giving birth, she clenched her fists into the mattress and pushed upward. The nerves in the muscles that ran up the back of her legs sent messages to her brain to lie down and not move. She had to go to work. It was Friday there would be the weekend to rest. Her body told her there was no way she was getting out of bed and to just lie back down.

“Mind over matter.” Her young trainer had repeated as he pushed her to do those three extra reps with every set. Right now she wanted to reach down his throat and pull his peck muscles out of his body by way of his Adam’s apple.

She flung her legs over the side of the bed and buried her face in the pillow as she groaned. Sitting, her weight rested on her hips and her back muscles did their job to hold her upright. Holding on to the wall she placed one foot in front of the other. The bathroom was just a few more steps. Just the act of squatting and resting muscles against the seat was so painful she couldn’t bring herself to even try to stand again.

Across the room her cell phone sang a song. It wasn’t from anyone on her list so she ignored it.

Carefully balancing on one leg she tried to slide her slacks on. She finally resorted to pooling them on the floor and working her feet into the holes. The job of bending over to pull the waist band was overwhelming. She snagged a coat hanger and after many unsuccessful tries, she managed to hook the pocket and pull it into her grasp. Her fingers hurt to maneuver the hook and zip. She was pleased they went together easily since her weight loss. She leaned against the wall perspiration ran down her temples and into her eyes. She brushed them away. She was not a cry baby.

In the bathroom she faced the daunting task of reaching her arms above her shoulders to comb her hair. Every stroke was slow and painful. Just lifting the toothbrush to clean her teeth was a monumental task of endurance.

Carefully lifting each foot and gritting her teeth she slid her feet into sandals. Just as she reached for her purse, her cell phone rang. This time she pressed the green button.

“Hello?”

“Hi Nancy. This is Bob your trainer. I wanted to call you and see how you were doing. I really enjoyed our workout yesterday and booked you for another tomorrow morning. Would 9:00 or 11:00 be best for you?”

Nancy stared at the front door and the steps to get to her car. She held the phone as close to her mouth and screamed as loud as she could, “NO!!!”

There was a long pause and a quiet voice said, “Did you drink all the water I told you to yesterday?”

Nancy threw the phone at her couch. She stumbled to her bedroom and fell into bed. She didn’t need a man in her life.