Bitch Troll from Hell

My current Huffy Puffy Trainer to the Reluctant has been riding my ass for three years now. Twice a week her cheery face turns up, carrying some weights or other torture devices, full of enthusiasm and smiling always. Sometimes I am enthusiastic and smiling, but many times, I am not.

Today was brutal.

I told her I was going to write about her being a Bitch Troll from Hell, and she was worried because a lot of her mates read my blog and know that she “trains” me, then I pointed out that I had never revealed her name or image, so none of that was my fault.

I worked out with Mrs. Goodman today, who is an excellent exercise buddy because she is strong, competitive and pulls the most amazing faces when the HPTTTR instructs us to plank for a minute. Then do a minute of “dead bugs” which is literally doing this pose. IT FUCKING HURTS.

It kind of made me wish I was dead when she then tells us to run around the block and she will time us.

As we ran, I mentioned to Mrs. Goodman, between gasping for oxygen, that I needed to find a bra for my stomach because my guts be jiggly! Like I could feel it slapping around. It was not a nice feeling. I asked the HPTTTR how I could get rid of it, and she told me that I had to give up bread and wine, so I have decided to make friends with it.

Today she took particular pleasure in pushing us to our limits. Mrs. Goodman even suggested that she maybe she should go to her doctor and get her hormones checked. I told her I was going to write about her being a Bitch Troll from Hell. She just laughed and made us run up and down the stairs for a bit.

And although I bitch and moan about it, my exercise is a part of my therapy. Exercise, Lexapro and Blogging. So thank you to you, for reading my blog, thanks to Dr. Mac for giving me my head med scripts and thanks to the Huffy Puffy Trainer to the Reluctant for showing up and making me do ridiculous things. I am sorry for calling you a bitch troll from hell this morning. Not one of my finer moments. You are actually awesome.

That is my recipe. Writing, taking medication and moving in ways that the body was not meant to move.  And now I am off to order one of these.

What are three things that you do for yourself?

To keep the wheels turning, so to speak.