Fern was super excited. She was almost finished her on-line, accredited by the Online Association of Personal Trainers, Personal Training Course. It was her first day of ‘gym experience’ (not clinical experience, HOO) at the local boxing gym, run by ex boxer and academic, Doc Morton. “Now, Ms Fern, a lot of these early morning trainers are pretty hard core, and probably won’t be interested in too much input, but just hang around and see what they get up to.” There were already a couple of broken down boxers skipping and treating the punching bags like a young George Foreman. A rattle of the main doors interrupted them. In stepped Granny, Merv, and a red faced, puffing Foodge, resplendent in a Howardesque green and gold tracksuit.


Nice arse

“Ah, granny.” Enthused Morton, as he stepped over and kissed Granny on the cheek, then hugged Merv.” How’s the rehab coming on, Mr Merv? Foodge, you’ve decided to re-enter the world of boxing, can I introduce you all to our first personal training student, Fern? And, Fern, It’s my honour to introduce you to former bantam weight champion, Granny, former heavy weight champ and local publican, Mr Merv, and the finest Private Detective in this country, Mr Foodge!”

Granny and Merv nodded, whilst Foodge could barely contain his hostility (the gentle reader may remember that, as Foodge’s secretary, Fern had embezzled millions, or hundreds, or perhaps dozens of dollars from Foodge, Very Private Dick). “If there’s any tips you need, I’ll be around.” Fern sounded hopeful.

Merv and Foodge popped on some gloves and started sparring, while Granny moved into her usual Monday workout. She always liked to start with a heavy canvass bag, just to warm things up. “Now, Granny, an older person, such as yourself, shouldn’t do any bag work without gloves!” Advised Fern.

Granny didn’t look up. “What, to protect the bag from the callouses on my knuckles?”



Fern moved on to give some friendly advice to Merv and Foodge, who were content to practice sparring. Fern noticed that Granny was now doing deadlifts, by herself, with no supervision. “Granny, and older person, such as yourself, shouldn’t perform deadlifts without straps, you could hurt your hands.”

Granny ignored her, and kept adding on weight plates and lifting. When she had finished she turned to Fern. “Eight reps at a hundred and twenty kilos, without wraps isn’t bad for a fifty five kilo ‘older person!”

Fern had no response so decided to give some nutritional advice, as she was launching her own brand of supplements. “Mr Merv and Foodge, would you be interested in my new Nitric Oxide Blaster, it opens up the muscle arteries and flushes out toxins!”

“Nitric oxide supplements are bullshit.” Replied Merv as he helped Foodge on the dip bars.

“What about my new testosterone enhancer, Testmax?”

“The best testosterone booster is a good workout, and a good root!” Merv was already thinking about Janet’s role in the latter.

“Well, I’ve got a new protein matrix drink coming out soon.”

“Listen, luvvie, Granny does all our cookin’, you should speak to ‘er.” Merv was

Sister Bullshit

Sister Bullshit

actually pretty impressed with Foodge’s performance on the dip bars. “Come on Foodge, punch another rep out!”

Fern bailed Granny up. “I have a new range of protein supplements coming out, Granny. Would you be interested?”

“Me and my boys are doin’ pretty well on a diet of bacon, eggs, wedges and assorted veges, thanks!”

Granny was starting some chin-ups. “Oh, no, Granny, an older lady like yourself shouldn’t by doing wide gripped chin ups, it says it in the Personal Trainers’ Manual.” Fern clearly had learned nothing about ‘older people’ this morning.

“I’ll tell you what, young lady, let’s have a little comp, you and me, and to make it interesting, I’ll give you a hundred bucks if I can’t do ten more reps than you.” Granny was heartily sick of this upstart.

Fern thought this would be a doddle, after all, who was the personal trainer?

The pair went rep for rep on the chin up bars for about twenty then stopped for a breather. Neither showed any sign of weakening. The next twenty were a little bit slower, but the competition had attracted a small crowd of veteran athletes, who were mainly cheering for Granny.

“This is too easy, grab us some weight vests, Doc.” Yelled Granny as she flexed her biceps. Doc Morton brought out some weighted vests, ten kilos each.

Me again

Me again

“You choose, Fern.” Fern weighed each vest in her hands, then donned one, whilst Granny strapped on the second vest. They continued, Fern was much slower with the extra weight, so Granny just kept in time with her. This time they stopped after ten reps. “Another ten kilos in the vests, Doc!” Yelled Granny.

They started another set, but, suddenly Fen let go of the bar, collapsing in a quivering, sweaty mass. Granny continued, with the crowd counting down the last ten reps. Granny continued faultlessly. “Three, two, one.” The lads gathered around Granny, everyone hugging her, or shaking her hand. Doc Morton stepped forward and held up her right hand. “The undefeated chin up champeen, Granny!”

Foodge felt a great surge of pride, as well as a great surge in the trouser department. He and Merv stepped forward to escort the champ back to the Pigs Arms.

Fern turned to Doc Morton. “You don’t have an opening for a secretary, by any chance?”

The Three Wise Women

The Three Wise Women