sebastian

my body is sore these days. it hurts so good. i have befriended a rather large man named sebastian at my gym who offered to help me out with my workouts. he's a personal trainer, but doesn't need my money (which is lovely because i have not much to give). he saw me coming in more frequently and decided he wanted to work with me. not sure if that's good or bad. either way, this newfound relationship is proving highly beneficial. he works out with me several times a week. the rest of the time i'm on my own, but i always pretend he's watching.

my favorite thing about sebastian is that he's a talker. let me clarify - an interesting talker. we've talked for ridiculous amounts of time, but i never want out (my natural tendency with most "talkers"). his best talking point is that he's an ex-drug dealer from the bronx. he started when he was 12, so you can imagine the stories he has. hearing him talk about those days is comparable to watching a law and order made-for-tv movie. then there were his years as a massage therapist who made house calls. let's just say he got offered extra cash a time or two. he's trained celebrities, musicians, and wannabees. he's only 28, but has lived through quite a bit.

we also like to quietly make fun of other people at the gym who do things incorrectly. we talk about self-confidence and choosing certain things for oneself. we talk about food and sleep and everything in between. in a matter of a week and a half, we've covered some decent ground. he has single-handedly lit the fire under my butt i've been looking for since high school basketball was over.

i'm meeting him again tomorrow night at 9:30. bring on the pain.