Ronnie Austria

I had every intention of writing a note about how cool the name of my trainer is in my normal sarcastic manner. I'd spent all day thinking of stuff to write but honestly I can't. Let's start at the beginning. After my experience in the gym last week I decided to attend a Boxercise class. It taught me two things. Firstly, I'm not actually that unfit. My cardio exercise abilities are just about the way they should be for my age. Secondly, there is a part of my conditioning that seriously needs some work, namely the fact that I punch like an 80 year old asthmatic grandma (with arthritic hands). It's clear that this slight shortfall in ability may leave me open for criticism in the ring and so I needed to build some strength. I therefore decided to hire the services of a professional personal trainer to build me up. I looked around the gym, chose the hardest looking trainer, told him my predicament and thankfully he agreed to work with me (for a small fortune each day!). Then he told me his name was Ronnie Austria and my afternoon was made.

Today was my first session with Ronnie. He started by conducting a set of tests that basically proved what I thought, I'm not that unfit but any excess weight I'm carrying is basically all fat and flabby. When I took my top off he laughed. Bastard. He said we have to focus on building my core (read, lose the flabby gut) and strengthen my arms. And then it started. Running, press ups, sit ups, weight lifting, rowing, skipping (yes skipping!). It was an hour of absolute hell. He pushed me to my very limit, a little bit past it and then re-booked me for 5pm on Wednesday to do it all over again!

After he pulled and stretched me to revive my aching limbs. I sat in the changing room for about 20 minutes. I stood in the shower for 15 more minutes and then I tried my hardest to lift my arms into my shirt before hobbling very slowly to my car. Where I sat for 15 minutes more.

I know I'm going to really struggle to get out of bed in the morning and that everything will hurt even more than it does now but the fact that I have to do it all again in 48 hours is scaring the shit out of me. As the Fine young Cannibals once said (almost) "Ronnie, I'm sorry won't you let me stay at home?"

PS: If you click the title you should see Ronnie, he's not one of the women or the bloke in the funny costume but the guy on the right with the "I'm gonna break Naz look" on his face.