Overcoming Pain and Fat

The hardest part has been conquered,
at least that's what they say.
I've overcome a lifelong fear,
having fastened my sneakers
and having entered the gym.

Overcome by the massive supply of equipment,
all of which I am ignorant of its use,
and too humiliated even to try on my own.
Seeing to my right and to my left
are nothing but toned, slimmed bodies,
who tackle the equipmint like pros.

But determined not to leave,
determined to expel my plethora of flab,
I introduce myself to a personal trainer,
who, willing to help,
helps maybe more than I can bare.

Ordering me to stretch,
I obey, contorting my body
in ways I never knew I could bend;
I stretch until in each bodily part, pain can be felt.
"Are we done yet?" I weakly ask.
"Not even close." The trainer snickers.

He puts me on the treadmill.
Faster and faster he computes in the machine.
My legs can barely keep up.
Breathing, hardly. "I need a break."
"Ten more minutes." He sighs.

Ten minutes came.
I went home. Tired, broken, aching.
"Why do I feel so bad?" I said to myself.
Then I realized,"Perhaps I need to do this more often."