Here’s the scene: Sunday morning, heading to the gym in my “grubbies” (which translates to a baggy T-shirt, old pair of workout pants, and of course, freshly un-showered). On the treadmill getting ready for my morning jog; ipod’s all set to go and I’m off. I caught a glimpse of my trainer, Brad, coming out of the group fitness room. I wave, and he waves back. Next thing I know he’s coaxing me to come to BODYCOMBAT.

The conversation went back and forth with Brad telling me to come take the class and with me whining. That’s actually a very familiar scene for us. Usually, though, he’s yelling at me to squat deeper, and I’m complaining that I can’t (even though I really can). Anyways, Brad put his foot down and said “You’re taking the class,” and he came over and turned my treadmill off! Can you believe that?

I really wasn’t mad.. . .

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