By: Noeka Nimmervoll, Staff Diva
The Navy SEALs taught me that nothing is forever except discipline. Now that I’m retired, I pump five tonnes of steel in my garage every day for 15 minutes straight like the beast I am, to remind myself that this ass might retire, but it won’t quit. Last Tuesday night, mid-routine, my neighbour Janine showed up to my garage to complain about all the carnal screaming I was doing at 11:00 p.m. She told me that all my screaming was getting in the way of her “sleep” and that she was going to call the police. She said she was teaching a Pilates class at 7:00 a.m. the next morning and she needed her rest. I told her if Pilates was a real exercise, I might take her seriously. Janine got right in my face and told me I couldn’t handle her class.
Oh, it’s so on, Janine. I signed up for her 7:00 a.m. class and sneered in her face. “You don’t know who you’re messing with. You can’t handle the beast.” Her eyes flashed like Satan operating a flamethrower. “I’m gonna serve you your own ass on a platter,” she whispered.
OK, it’s 7:00 a.m. and Janine walks in and claps her hands, her eyes scanning every person in the class. “Hey everyone, how are we doing today? Alright, everyone ready for an hour of your body on fire? We’re blasting those thighs and abs today. Keep your eyes on me, ’cause we’re moving fast.” She looks at me and gives me a stink eye. “No breaks today. OK, on your mats!”
She puts on some Carly Rae Jepsen and starts demonstrating the first activity. “Three, two, one, let’s go!” Sweat is rolling down my face by the time I’m on my third leg lift. My entire body is shaking even though I’m just lifting my legs, and I can’t see Janine anymore because of my eyeball sweat. She starts yelling for us to get on our feet for squats and pulses. “DON’T STOP, ONLY 30 MORE SECONDS!” yells Janine. DAMN, Janine. All I see is red and I think I’m fading in and out of consciousness.
As we’re pulsing, I start thinking about how I should not have drunk that case of PBRs last night,’cause I think my body is trying to sweat all of the beer out. My mat is so slippery. “NOW ONE LEG PULSE!” screams Janine. I look over at her. She’s got this rabid look in her eye — and she’s staring right at me. Terrifying. I get on one leg and bend my knee and — BOOM, down I go. All the ladies gasp in unison. I am staring at the ceiling, gasping for air, and then I get on my side and hurl onto the ground. This is rock bottom, I think to myself. Suddenly Janine appears right in front of my face. “HEY, GET UP!” yells Janine. “NO EXCUSES! GET UP OR GET OUT! YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE BEAST! YOU ARE WEAK! YOU ARE WEAK!!!!”
Since Janine is usually home around 3:00 p.m., I’ve adopted a new schedule. I wake up at noon, do my workout, then go to the bar from 3:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m. I haven’t seen her in months. I will never get rid of the image of her red, sweaty face screaming at me while I lay in a puddle of my own barf and sweat. She is tougher, meaner, and stronger than any of my former Navy SEAL bosses, and they were VERY intense about their paperwork.
