I hired a personal trainer to help me stay in shape. I'm one of those people that need someone to motivate them.
I stopped going in for my weigh-ins and check-ups, so my trainer started coming to me. I was lying on the couch, relaxing, and sipping a soda when she came in. I wasn't expecting her at all...I had completely forgotten about our appointment.
"Hey, Fifi," she said with her usual ball of energy. Oh no, was it that day again? She immediately noticed the soda in my hand, "I thought you wanted to lose weight." It's not like I sip pop all the time. I tried staying on the diet she gave me, but I admit, I slipped up...quite a bit. I actually didn't try at all.
She squeezed my belly, "You've gained weight since the last time I saw you." Yeah, I had a bigger belly, but she was acting like it was HUGE! When I sat up, my belly spilled over my tiny shorts. Maybe she was right.
It was time for me to get up on the scale. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that I laid a few snacks on a piece of furniture, and she saw it right away. I tried to lie about it, but she knew better.
I stepped up on the scale, and the number was bigger than last time. "ALL FAT," she said, squeezing my belly. She complained that I had even outgrown my shirt, and that it was entirely too tight. "You know, shape is not round, shape is muscular," she said sarcastically. She picked up the tape measure, and measured my belly, chest, and hips. It was true, I was A LOT bigger.
She made me turn around so she could see how big my ass had gotten. She squeezed it, "What the hell? Seriously?" I didn't think it was a big deal. I told her I had been exercising, but she didn't believe me. She made me do jumping jacks in front of her just so I could see my own belly jiggle.
To be honest, working out is hard, and I just...don't wanna do it. Couldn't I just...I don't know, eat fruits or something? When she heard me say that, she started picking up my snacks and soda pop. She said that if I wanted to gain weight instead, then she'd feed me herself. Was she serious?
She told me to sit down, and then began taunting me with the fattening food. "You know you want these," she said, pushing the powdered donuts in my face. She shoved donut after donut into my mouth, and made me swallow it down with sugary soda. Then she started shoving two at a time into my mouth. I was getting so full that I didn't think I could eat anymore.
But my trainer kept going. She called me fat names, opening a new pack of snacks, and then started shoving those into my mouth. They were so chocolaty, and filled with thick cream in the center. She was barely giving me enough time to swallow them before stuffing another into my mouth. She grabbed and jiggled my fat rolls, and compared her fit stomach to mine.
And then, to further humiliate me, she actually made me do a sit-up to get to one of the Zingers! She was relentless. She was seriously going to try and stuff as much food as she could. Once I was done with that pack, she opened another one, and I felt like I was going to explode.
My belly was so tight and full, but she didn't care. She poked it hard with her fingers, and then stuffed a cupcake into my mouth. I couldn't handle anymore. I felt like I was going to pop at any second. I lied and told her that I was going to go get a banana to eat, just so she would stop. I don't even have bananas. She knew I was lying. As I got up, she handed me the rest of the cupcakes, and told me that she'd feed me the rest when I got back.
But before I was even able to get away, she made me step back on the scale. She wanted me to see how much fatter I had gotten. The scale read another pound, and I was exhausted. I just wanted to lie down. But I knew she wasn't done...she'd make me eat more.