Put me in, Coach. I’m ready to play
Today marks my first session with Rachelle in over a month. I had forgotten (fortunately) what a hard taskmaster she is. Marine drill instructors can’t hold a candle to this woman. She pushes, prods, cajoles, berates and motivates - all in the same session. She is at turns sympathetic, disdainful and encouraging. When you think you can’t do another rep, she’s there, whispering blandishments in your ear. When she senses that your mind is getting ready to tell the body to quit, she jumps in to put your mind right. She was so energetic and intense today that (for the first time since we’ve been together) she actually took off her hooded sweatshirt. God bless me, and then knock me down. That event should have been signaled by trumpets and banners. Rachelle NEVER takes her sweatshirt off in the gym - even when the temperature flirts with the century mark. I view it as a sign that she was working as hard as I was in order to get me to push the envelope.
I’m both dreading and looking forward to tomorrow morning. If I can barely walk, I’ll know I did good work today. That’s the good news. The bad news is that I won’t be able to walk down the street to my massage. Perhaps I can call Rachelle and have her carry me over. 
It’s the least she can do.
