Just when I think Victor can't come up with anything more horrible than making me carry 30 lbs up and down a staircase, he surprises me with yet another twisted scheme to get me in shape.
Yesterday I put on my cute pink skort (which I will wear until it is in shreds), a clean white t-shirt and my workout shoes. I went to V-Fit for my meeting with Gabe.
"Come with me" he said.
I followed him through a doorway that I had always assumed was a storage closet. The storage closet led to a dark passage, then to a concrete stairway. We went down the stairs to another store room, then through a warehouse and ended up in what looked like my brother's garage --complete with broken guitars, old board games and non-working appliances. Gabe raised the garage door and led me out to a side lot strewn with old tires, tools and other debris.
If it wasn't Gabe, I might have feared for my safety.
I should have feared for my safety.
Gabe handed me a 15 lb medicine ball and told me to bounce it against the wall for 90 seconds. I had to hit a spot 2 feet over my head. It wasn't so bad for about 10 seconds. Then it got harder. It turned out to be challenging, but I didn't think it was worth coming all that way just so I could work my shoulders.
Then Gabe handed me a car tire.
Yep. CAR TIRE. It was made of black rubber and had GOODYEAR printed on the side. It wasn't new, either.
I had to swing the tire from side to side, bouncing it off the wall each pass. Then I had to toss it behind my head 15 times. Then I had to carry it over my head and run laps. My hands were filthy.
And car tires are HEAVY.
Then he handed me a sledge hammer. Which is heavier than a car tire.
I had to run laps carrying the sledge hammer. It sure made me feel sorry for all the brave firefighters (like my friend Randy) who have to run with sledge hammers while wearing full protective gear.
Then I had to take the sledge hammer and hammer the side of a tractor tire. Thank God I didn't have to LIFT the tractor tire. Although I probably will soon.
Where did Vic think of this workout? Huntsville Prison?
Next thing you know he's going to buy a chevette on blocks and make us drag it across the yard. Or he's going to get a doberman and tie meat to my ass.
Looks like I need to put some Johnny Cash in my i-pod.
Just in case you think I exaggerate: