Mighty, Mighty

This morning, a man who introduced himself to us as Brickhouse, taught Michael and me to do a proper squat. And then he made us do them. 60 of them.

When a man called Brickhouse tells you to squat and give him 20, my tendency is to obey–call me crazy.

I am not above taking tutelage from someone in the gym who obviously knows what he’s doing, and clearly, this guy did. The trainers who work there were not very happy about Brickhouse offering advice to their members but there’s really not a thing they can do about it, and frankly, they’re all a bunch of pussies who will never get my money anyway.

The two there this morning especially have to be the laziest, primpinest, flirtinest asshats I’ve ever seen. And only the clearly overweight and out of shape women hire them for help. None of the men, and none of the women who are already in pretty good shape, are interested in them. It makes me crazy watching these guys fart around with these women and their money.

Brickhouse, on the other hand, was not playin’. And my quads hurt like hell right now and I feel like I had a super workout and he didn’t charge me a thing. Consequently, if I ever get around to paying for a trainer, he’s just put himself on the top of my list. I just have to make sure I’m ready to have my butt kicked all over the place if I call him, because I got the distinct impression that given the chance, he’d work me like a dog.

Today’s Workout:
45 minutes of weights, 20 minutes of cardio.

Michael leaves town today for a week, so it looks like I’m going to have to motivate my own self for a while. This should be an interesting test. I think I’ll be just fine.