Throwing Myself Under the Bus

Last week I began working out with a personal trainer. 'Why' you ask? I have no idea other than I just LOVE me some pain and can't get enough of it. Really I am trying to work on strengthening and hoping losing weight will come along for the ride.

Anyway, the first day I worked out with a male personal trainer who was basically showing me the ropes before he assigned a regular trainer to me. We went to a machine where you lay down and put your feet on a lift with weights. The exercise is to lift the weights extending your legs and then bring them back down to your chest. Well, I think you can see where this is heading. There's an awful lot of pressure on your stomach as you come back down, and well...you're rear-end is basically up in the air. And you guessed it, between rep 23 and 24, I passed gas. It was the most dainty little fart you've ever heard...but a fart nonetheless.

Undeterred, I just kept going like it was totally normal to fart between reps 23 and 24...just a part of the exercise if you will. But inside, I was wondering if I could ever top that degree of embarrassment. Perhaps tomorrow I will wear my white pants and unexpectedly get my period.