Delayed anger...
I went to the gym this afternoon, and decided on a whim to take a free session with a trainer. He was a nice enough guy, and seemed to know his stuff. We had a decent workout, and sat in his office to "talk about my goals". Sales pitch. Whatever. He had me step on a scale (that's okay, I'm not afraid of the scale anymore), which read about 120. Cool. Being 5'4", that's a perfectly healthy weight. Then he brings out the calipers to measure my body fat. He takes the readings, then compares it to his chart.
Trainer: "Hmmm..you're a little on the high side."
Me: "'scuse me?"
Trainer: "Yeah, it shows you at 29% bodyfat. That's the high side of acceptable. We definitely need to get that down."
Me: "That's odd, the last time a DOCTOR took my bodyfat percentage, it was at 22%."
Trainer: "Well, there's always a slight variation from whoever's taking it. So yeah, if you dropped about 5-10 pounds, you'd be in a better range."
He moved on quickly to the next subject. Of course I didn't sign up for any obscenely expensive training sessions. I was a little miffed, but as I was driving home, I got more and more pissed off. Here's what I was thinking in my head:
"Fuck you, buddy! I worked DAMN hard to drop this weight, and people think I'm a little too skinny right now as it is! No wonder people in Orange County have such a complex. It's people like you who tell them they're not thin enough, or fit enough, or attractive enough. FUCK YOU! RAAAARR"
Add to that my exasperation with cutesy-wootsy little perfect clones bouncing away on their elliptical machines, and the men staring at themselves in the mirrors as they pump their iron, and I'm in a foul mood. FOUL! *storm cloud*
Trainer: "Hmmm..you're a little on the high side."
Me: "'scuse me?"
Trainer: "Yeah, it shows you at 29% bodyfat. That's the high side of acceptable. We definitely need to get that down."
Me: "That's odd, the last time a DOCTOR took my bodyfat percentage, it was at 22%."
Trainer: "Well, there's always a slight variation from whoever's taking it. So yeah, if you dropped about 5-10 pounds, you'd be in a better range."
He moved on quickly to the next subject. Of course I didn't sign up for any obscenely expensive training sessions. I was a little miffed, but as I was driving home, I got more and more pissed off. Here's what I was thinking in my head:
"Fuck you, buddy! I worked DAMN hard to drop this weight, and people think I'm a little too skinny right now as it is! No wonder people in Orange County have such a complex. It's people like you who tell them they're not thin enough, or fit enough, or attractive enough. FUCK YOU! RAAAARR"
Add to that my exasperation with cutesy-wootsy little perfect clones bouncing away on their elliptical machines, and the men staring at themselves in the mirrors as they pump their iron, and I'm in a foul mood. FOUL! *storm cloud*