My personal trainer is the shit. In two months I went from 189 to 164. And I'm holding steady now mainly because I hurt my ankle which has made running impossible. Yesterday, my trainer and I met at Retro Fitness for a 30 minute session.
Trainer: So what have you eaten today.
Me: Candy.
Trainer: What?
Me: Candy. Are you deaf?
Trainer: How much?
Me: One Reese's Peanut Butter cup and a box of nerds.
Trainer: A whole box of nerds?
Me: A mini box. For Halloween. You know none of those bastard children came by my place so now I have tons of candy. Good shit too. None of that crap old peopel try to pass off as candy worth a shit.
Trainer: That's all you've eaten today?
Me: Eggs. And a sandwich. It was delicious. And by delicious I mean boring.
Trainer: No mayo.
Me: No mayo.
Trainer: Good. No more candy.
Me: It cost 10 bucks. So either the Mexicans down the street need to come trick or treating or you need to give me $10 not to eat it.
Trainer: I will not fall for this trick.
I promptly went home and had two boxes of nerds, sweet tarts and some kit kats. Fuck my trainer. I'm getting my money's worth.
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