I recently engaged the services of a personal trainer called Michele who’s quite knowledgeable about muscle groups, vertebra, exercises, the use of rubber pads, large plastic balls and such like. I did this because I’m tired of grunting while exiting motor cars and getting up from chairs. Michele insists I’m not a lost cause despite abundant evidence to the contrary. In only two sessions, there’s been noticeable improvement, so starting next month I’m going twice a week. Michele shows great patience, even in the face of my wailing, wheezing and farting. But this morning she gave me an even greater gift.
© 2024 John Oliver
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