The 5K Walk and the Mysterious Lady in Red
One bright and early Saturday morning not too long ago, I met up with ‘M’ my trainer from physical therapy and NL of Noveltownand ABC23 for the Fall Festival 5K/10K run/walk at River Walk Park. Through bribery of Supreme Bean coffee, I convinced NL to do the 5K walk with me. A leisurely stroll in the park for NL, I soon learned that 5K is a lot farther than it sounds.
At check in we were given real race numbers and at 9:00 AM everyone lined up at the starting point as if it was the New York Marathon. Like Katie Holmes, I registered under an alias (my real name) instead of Matildakay.
‘M’ of coarse was doing the 10K run while pushing his son in a stroller. Show off!
There were other members from my physical therapy group participating in the race including a lady in red who kicks my butt regularly.
NL was a good friend and sport keeping pace with me when he could have left me in the dust. Even though we were among the last to finish, he had fun with his video camera and put together this little video of our 5K-walk experience.
“Go Matildakay!” ‘M’ yelled as he ran by pushing his stroller during the last half of the 5K walk.
“So annoying!”
“Why?” NL asked.
“Because he’s running 10K while pushing a stroller!”
“He’s a good trainer, he’s encouraging you.”
“I know. I just wish I could do that.”
We never did catch the mysterious lady in red from my physical therapy group, but she was at the finish line cheering me on. I managed to finish the 5K walk (just over 3 miles) in around 50 minutes, which is not too bad. And even though I was sore the rest of the day, I’m really glad that I challenged myself and accomplished the 5K walk.
“I read all about you.” NL told ‘M’ after the 5K walk.
“You read about me?” ‘M’ asked, “Oh right, I don’t want to know.”
The Secret to Marriage According to ‘M’
My trainer ‘M’ works with post-rehab patients like myself, as well as with athletes and fitness clients. He takes care of us or rather he ‘tortures’ us. He has fun putting us all through contortionist-style exercises and introducing us to muscles we didn’t know existed. He’s a little bit warped that way. ‘M’s my age, in perfect shape, nice looking, funny, eats APPLES for snacks and runs everyday at 5am while listening to audio books on his ipod. Obviously there’s something wrong with him! I wish I were half as motivated as ‘M’ to take care of my body.
The other day at physical therapy a young couple in their 20’s who train with ‘M’ in a fitness program were discussing living together with our group.
“I come home from work and she’s already giving me grief about stuff!”
“You think that’s bad, just wait until you get married.” A post-rehab patient informed him.
“I told him that living together is practice for when we get married.” She explained.
“Do you know what the secret to marriage is?” ‘M’ stepped in to help the young guy.
“What?” He asked.
I stopped to listen to the wisdom ‘M’ was about to dispense… The secret to marriage! Maybe I'd learn something. I thought.
“The secret to marriage is: pretending to listen and pretending to care.”
PRETENDING TO LISTEN AND PRETENDING TO CARE! I was flabbergasted! I knew there was something wrong with ‘M’.
“Does that work for you?” I asked ‘M’.
“Sometimes,” he grinned, “but sometimes my wife calls me on it and then I’m in BIG trouble.”
“You deserve to be in trouble for that!” I laughed.
“What did you do, post a picture of him on the Internet?” Tom asked while counting repetitions on the hamstring machine.
“No, I just linked up to his staff page on Terrio’s website.” I explained.
“Oh God!” ‘M’ slapped his forehead, “Your work-out just got really hard!”
“Ugh.”
“The worst thing you can do is piss ‘M’ off.” Tom said.
“Squat and Row!” ‘M’ ordered.
“What’s this?” I asked.
‘M’ had placed a balance board where I was supposed to squat.
“Do your squats on the balance board.” ‘M’ instructed.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” I looked at ‘M’ as if he was nuts.
I can barely squat on stable ground much less on a balance board that moves like a skateboard with the wheels in the middle of the board instead of on the ends.
“You can do it! Squat!”
I tried to squat wobbling back and forth like a Weeble Wobble hanging onto the rope for dear life.
“Now row.” ‘M’ instructed.
I held the squat, tried to balance on the moving board and pulled the rope with 35 pounds of weight attached to it as if I was rowing a boat. I nearly wobbled right off the board onto my head.
“Two sets of 15!” ‘M’ left me to my wobbling.
This is my punishment for telling ‘M’ my readers think he’s hot... I tried to squat and balance again.