The Sky’s the Limit
Bob Bovee, the man I hate. Well, for an hour at most. Some weeks. In the middle of a training session, I’ll think, “I’m paying him to kill me like this? … He really expects me to do that?” Then I do it, or come close. And then, half an hour after the session as I happen to stretch, my muscles feel a little sore but alive, and not the flaccid lumps they used to be. I’ll think, “Bob gave me a great workout today!”
And not just Bob. All the trainers in the gym. They’ll glance over at you with that evil smile as you exclaim, “I have to do how many reps?” I swear learning that smile is part of their training. Of course, they’re just as ready to clap when you set a new personal best. Everyone jumps in to answer any questions that you may have and to cover for each other during absences. Never a cancelled appointment. I could talk about the equipment, but that’s irrelevant. You could be in an empty room with these trainers and they’d improve you. Add a chair and the sky is the limit.
But has he helped me at all? A year ago, before starting with Bob, I could carry one bag of groceries in each arm from the car to the kitchen table. Then I had to sit and catch my breath for ten minutes. Now, I carry three bags in each arm to the table and sort them into the proper cupboards. Then I rest for five minutes. I’ve gained muscle everywhere without gaining much weight. I do have COPD with supplemental oxygen, so I will have limits. But we haven’t found them yet. Bob tailors his program to me, to get the most out of me. He finds out what works and what doesn’t, and then he trains me in such a way that what didn’t work will in the future. One time, my supplemental oxygen quite working early in the session. Rather than calling it quits, Bob guided me through the balance of the program. Exhausted but alive, I don’t know who was prouder of this accomplishment – me or Bob for me!
With Bob’s guidance, I’ll find my limits. But he’s not going to let me accept a stumble over a curb as a limit. It’s going to take a real wall before he lets me stop. Of course, even then I know he’ll be hunting a door through that wall for me.
