All-Business Brenda

My trainer, all-business Brenda, the ruler of my universe, the one responsible for the grueling workouts, the one who picked me out of a slew of other fat people to be in her contest...You know, I've mentioned her time or two on this blog. Well, I have a few things to say about her. I just lover her. That is what I have to say. Even though she causes me sore muscles and aches and pains - I still love her. Maybe I'm a sadist or am I a massachist? I'm whichever is the one that enjoys the pain. Not that I enjoy the pain but I do love it when I am sore after a workout. I like the feeling of knowing that I worked my muscles so hard that they have no option but to change and hopefully get smaller. Or maybe I want the muscles to get bigger and the fat to get smaller. Yes, that's it. That is what I'm striving for. Well, then she must be the one who enjoys enflicting the pain. Either way, that's us. The saddist and the massachist. I wonder if she will ever know how grateful I am for what she has done? I wonder if I will ever be able to show her my appreciation for choosing me out of so many other capable fatties that wanted to be chosen for this contest just as much as I did? I don't know. But what I do know is that even though I joke about getting up at o'dark hundred for Brenda-inflicted beatings, I truly love it. I love how we banter back and forth. I love that she is all-business. I love that she just says it like it is and does not sugar coat anything. I love how she pushes me to do things I would never dream of doing. I love how she believes in me and knows that I am capable of so much more. Now, all-business Brenda is somewhat hard to please and is not quick with the compliments - that's not her style. But despite that, I do know she is happy with my progress.

Now, I just have to find a job that will allow me to keep all-business Brenda after this contest is over. I was talking to G-Pat over dinner the other night about making a career change. I said, "I just don't know what I am going to do after this is over. I want to be able to stay with her but need to figure out a way of making a little extra cash. I need something that is flexible so I can still be home with our little hell-yuns but make enough money to affod these extra luxuries." G-Pat agreed. "I may have to be a phone sex operator or possibly a call girl - you know? Surely, there has to be a market for "plus size hookers." Surely, some lonely ol' guy out there wants to hook up with a big girl. Surely, there is someone out there that wants a roll in the hay with a flabby, jiggly, road map of stretch marks across her stomach, fat chick, you know?"
Then I asked him, "What do you think the going rate is these days for hmm-hmm?" He replies, "I have no idea and my name's not Shirley" (name that movie) So I asked, "well, what would you pay for a little hmm-hmm?" He said,"honey, I pay thousands for you. And by the time our life is over it will probably be in the millions. That's what I pay for hmm-hmm." Good point. Good point. Although is he calling me his hooker? I will have to think on this awhile. I'm not above it. I'm just sayin'. I'm not above it.