Gym instructors a special kind of crazy... in a good way
GYM instructors are a special kind of crazy. In their six-pack flashing crop tops and with that psycho glint in their eye, they are actually quite frightening.
But that's exactly how I want my trainers: scary as all hell. That's the only way this lazy bones is going to get active.
A recent Body Pump class was a great example of this. The instructor was particularly nuts. Even though she was lifting quadruple what I was, she had a manic grin plastered on her face.
And she kept screaming. With glee. Not words, just really loud whoops. Somehow she also had enough breath to speak.
"If you're tired…" she started.
I am, I thought! I really am.
"If you're feeling fatigued…" she continued.
Thank God, I thought, she's going to give us a little break. About time!
But this shrieking banshee had a different idea.
"THEN IGNORE IT!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.
Another instructor took a little shine to this student. It was an early morning Body Attack sesh.
And I engaged. I always do. While the others are trying to avoid eye contact with the instructor, I do the opposite.
I laugh at their jokes. Nod at the motivational tidbits they spout. I sprinted particularly hard and she loved it.
"You are number one!" she shouted in my direction, still running like a mad woman.
Then she remembered herself. "You are all number one!"
And then she wrapped up the class in fantastic psycho style.
"You guys are crazy! Welcome to your Friday!" she screamed.
No, lady - you are crazy. But thank you all the same.