On Personal Trainers
A silly little poem about trying to get fit: Personal Trainer I’m getting to an age where I should focus on my health, and so, I booked an expert who would help me push myself. She didn’t speak much English but she led by precedent, and she had a score on Yelp reviews of two-hundred percent! I’d never met a trainer quite so flexible and bendy; she knew her way ‘round Yoga and Pilates – very trendy! Her emphasis on stretching was a skill I mastered fast: she taught me how to curl up so my nose was by my arse. She had to change the timing and adapt to fit my body. I told her I had two legs and she stared at me quite oddly… And she was keen on running through the fields, not wearing shoes. I kept my Puma Kicks laced up, but still, my feet were bruised. She often used small rodents as a way to set the pace. A run can be enhanced, she thought, if it involves a chase. And, speaking of nutrition, she endorsed a raw food diet: poultry, game ...