Regular
Jenny, Tina and I booked our
first session. None of us ladies
works out regularly or…well…
ever. But most importantly let
me explain that I am 100 years
older than both of these gals.
We meet our trainer. Let’s call him
Dean because I now have no desire
to change his name to protect him.
You change names to protect the
innocent. Dean is not innocent.
You can find Dean’s mug shot and
bio on the White Oaks website
and we thought he looked like a
friendly enough fellow. We were
not afraid. We were so wrong.
Our first session was one hour long
(I mean come on!) and my legs were
burning 10 minutes in. By 20 minutes
they felt like lead weights and by
the half-hour mark I was crying
sloppily and truly believed that my
thigh muscles might be bleeding on
the inside. If I’d only looked over at
Tina and Jenny I’d have seen they
were struggling too…but by then I
was going blind, so truly, I couldn’t
even see them clearly. The next
day was not good. The following
day, worse. I decided to quit.
Ed Lepp tried to talk me off the
ledge all weekend using tactics
that ranged from guilt to shame
to encouragement and finally to
begging, but it was all a blur. He
told me I’d be tagged a quitter for
life and people would point and
stare: “There goes Julie Lepp,
the big quitter.” To be honest,
I was totally fine with that.
TRAINING
Jenny and Tina stumbled into my
office on stiff legs to discuss “the
quitting.” They sympathized with
me as they were sore too, but
of course, not as sore as I was
because as previously mentioned
I’m a full century older. We needed
a personal training intervention.
Ed Lepp, our team leader, and my
long-suffering husband told Dean
he’d have to ease up or else. Ed Lepp
comes through! Gawd, he’s sexy!
o