My "personal trainer" wants to kill me. That's the only logical explanation for the things that he makes me do. When he sees that I have this calm look on my face, he casually adds some more weight. When my face starts to register that look that says, "Oh my God, this is it, I'm going to die now", I catch him grin a bit, and I suppose that's because he's seeing me die right there and then. Then he calmly tells me that if it doesn't hurt, I can't expect any development. If those words came from a guru, they would have sounded like some universal truth. But to hear him say that when my muscles are screaming for some rest just doesn't leave me in awe the way it would if say, Jesus said it.
So why put up with all this torture? I can think of lots of reasons. First, I have a ton of clothes that no longer fit, and these are good brands too. It'd be painful to have to give them away to charity. Then there's the health benefit - I'd rather spend money on gym fees than buy maintenance medicine for all sorts of things that come as a result of living a sedentary lifestyle. And then, there's always that wicked side benefit of seeing lots of eye candy. Yeah, that makes it all worth it!
We diet, we exercise, we try to look okay, then we die, eventually. Such is life.
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