So when I arrived at the gym, I had to bring Isabel to the training desk with me. She was thrilled to sit and watch me exercise, sadistic little child that she is. She sat by the stack of weights and was fascinated to see me do about a hundred different squats of different varieties. Even counting along to ten while I had to hold the position. Then did dead lifts and bicep curls, followed by some overhead tricep presses. When my trainer Randi mentioned that she was giving me a "light weight" of 20 lbs. to do my curls, Isabel piped up that she should give me more to do so that I could get stronger.
And after my 30 minute circuit with no real break, that ended in crunches and some core work, Isabel's response, "That was so short. Are you sure you are done?" I had all I could do to stand up and put on my coat, and she just wanted me to workout more. She happily recounted my session to my mom afterwards, particularly liked the "wiggly weight bar" (aka the curl bar) and the "light up weights" (the weights that were in neon colors). Since she recently added personal training to her list of dream occupations (after Fire girl, hair dresser and ballet teacher), I think she might be well on her way.
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