Clearly, Jesse, you are wrong.
Natter 66: Get Your Kicks.
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, pandas, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
I kid you not that just down the street from me are stores called "Boot Town" and "Boot City".
Yeah, sorry, I've been all "my move like carrots" for like a million years. you know when I am not being all "here's what food I used up!". My singleness is shocking, I know.
What? No fucking way. It was just a few months ago. I feel like I could prove it.
javachik, go you!
msbelle, if you have to apologize, I do a million times over. For the past YEAR AND A HALF.
You guys never move for me because you all live in my head.
Zen, I definitely don't blame you for never going back to that "gym." You gave it a good try but if they expect repeat customers, they need to, you know, actually serve the people coming in.
Zen, I'm sorry you had such a crap experience. When you're getting that kind of unhappy vibe out of a place, you're totally right to walk away and I'm glad you won't be going back. (And I say that as a total gym nerd -- yes, some people respond to pressure and some to rah-rah, but a good trainer has to work with each student and not just do dumbass canned motivational patter.) (And nobody should train in scary conditions, no matter what.)
I had to tell a personal trainer once not to encourage me anymore. Because when I said I was done, I was done. He was taken aback. But I'm serious. The gym is not where I break through my barriers. Martial arts, sure. But that's a whole different vibe. When I put the pedal to the metal, I am pretty aware of my limits.
Best trainer I had was a friend of mine, which I didn't really expect. But she knew how to motivate me--she could compliment me without being sugary. And she knew I was already serious--and how much to taunt someone who was teaching you krav. Which is, really, not much.
I respond really poorly to any rah-rah encouragement in almost any situation. I glared at the nurses while in labor. Don't talk to me. Just let me do my thing. And dear god don't call me "Mama" when you're not my offspring.
Because when I said I was done, I was done.
Yes, that too - I told him, okay, that's enough, and he's all, just give me two more! So I did, the first couple times, and then I just stopped when I needed to. I don't care if he thought I was giving up. (Also? I'm not giving you anything. I hate that. I'm not here doing this for you.)
And dear god don't call me "Mama" when you're not my offspring.
Oh, yeah. That calls for a punch to the face.
But it's possible I'm just extra cranky today.