Monday, June 25, 2007

Why I love my personal trainer

"Smoking speeds up the metabolism," he said, "And alcohol... well, it's calories, which is useful if we're gonna be bulking up."

I've got a new personal trainer. John joins the long army of mildly disapproving Australians who regard my body with the encouraging pity of a hairdresser confronted by Bella Emberg brandishing a picture of Posh Spice.

My last real personal trainer got deported. Lovely bloke, but ran into trouble renewing his student visa. Scrupulously honest, he told them he hadn't studied anything for a while, and that they couldn't send him home as he was running a thriving business.

John's joined my gym after running the Chelsea Harbour Club.

"Where's the harbour in Chelsea, exactly?" I asked him

John looked at me blankly. "You know, I'm not sure there is one. Six years, and I never thought about that."

New gym is hilarious. It includes a clutch of scowling marys with time on their hands, and a hefty discount at the hotel bar.

2 comments:

Lippy said...

How do all these people end up with time on their hands - it's a mystery?

I had great fun torturing estate agents in Bethnal Green the other day, they did start off trying to sell me complete shit but now appear to have seen the error of their ways.

Why have you gone to Wales in the middle of a hurricane btw?

Skip said...

oddly, turns out that the hurricane missed Wales. I think they've had their fair share of vile weather.