Hanging Chad

The day after I joined I was to meet with a fitness instructor, my appointment was with Chad. When he asked me what my fitness goals were I chose not to share with him that I wanted to lose the amount of weight that it would take to look hot in a coffin. Instead I picked the much more reasonable response, "I want to lose a hundred pounds by the weekend." (It was only Tuesday, WTF) He suggested two and a half pounds a week. At ths rate I'm gonna live forever. We walked down to the gym where he put me on the eliptical (which I think means torture in Portugese) machine and then proceeded to have a conversation with me while I was expected to "keep steppin". Now Chad's IQ was coming into question. We finished with the eliptical, skipped the treadmill when I told him that I knew how that worked and moved on to the recumbent bike. Once again he put me on and expected some movement from me while he continued the conversation. Well I think he did, I was back and forth to my "happy place". At least I was sitting down. I was brought back from the NBA after party that was going on in my head in time to hear him ask how my diet was. Seriously Chad, where's your stick or seeing eye dog. I'm pretty sure that you can look at me and guess that I don't eat anything that grows naturally except for Bessie and Wilber, but I'll go along. "It could be better," I replied. When we ended our meeting I had three goals: 1. To eat a cleaner diet 2. To do 45 minutes of cardio 5 days a week and 3. To hang Chad.