The final conflict: when boyfriend meets trainer

Or, how I ended up taking a back seat to jock talk, injuries and egos

There are two very important men in my life: Jordan, my boyfriend, and my personal trainer.

Sometimes I see my personal trainer more during the week. My trainer and I have built up a relationship that mostly consists of some banter followed by him barking out commands such as “Do 15 more lunges.” And I’ll say, “No, I’ll do 12 more lunges.” Then I do 15. He tells me about his somewhat pathetic love life, and I’ll give him advice on women. I consider him a friend.

But now Jordan wants to meet him, and I kind of left out the fact that he is not only a dude, but a superhot dude.

I didn’t want it to cause any unwarranted jealousy or stress, and since my trainer’s name was Laine it was easy enough to avoid. (Sorry, Laine, but it is kind of a female name.) Plus, going to the gym is my time.

Jordan gets all the movies, dinner, travelling and, ahem, the good stuff. Did I really want these two worlds to collide?

I had already introduced the boyfriend to yoga, and we’ve done many classes together. I love the fact that he kind of sucks at yoga, and I love pretending that I don’t notice that he sucks.

I have a great time during these classes because we can fool around together, which makes the 90-minute classes go quicker. Plus, I also love seeing my boyfriend in his workout clothes. It’s the modern version of a uniform. I find it completely sexy.

Now that Jordan and I are close, I do want to spend as much time as possible with him. So I took him with me for a training session with Laine at Track Fitness, where I work out. But, unlike yoga, where there are dozens of people in the class, this workout made me feel like a third wheel.

There is just something about men, when they get together, that I really don’t like being around, and it turns out this is true when it comes to sharing a trainer. When I introduced him, Jordan was shocked that Laine was male, but then they immediately started talking about sports. What’s with that?

I saw another side to him while working out with Laine. First, he complained that he was stiff from playing soccer. My trainer doesn’t let me get away with any excuses, but does Jordan get similar treatment? Hell no. Even if I play the pregnancy card, Laine won’t let me off easy. But, oh, a little stiffness from soccer, poor fella.

The second thing I noticed was that men do not like to be seen as wimps. As I was lifting eight- to 10-pound weights, my trainer made my boyfriend lift 25-pound weights.

My boyfriend was shaking as he lifted, and I said something like, “That looks like it really hurts. I’m serious. You look like you’re in pain.” But he just ignored me and kept lifting.

That might have been cute if I thought he was trying to impress me, but I know he was trying to impress my trainer.

Please. I mean, I’m the one he should be trying to impress. Maybe he should ask Laine out!

Usually, my trainer hands me weights before I lift them. But with Jordan and him chatting about soccer and squash and sex (the fact that my trainer might “get some” that night), I just stood there until finally I said, “Dude! So what? I’m picking up my own weights now?”

The height of absurdity was when my, yes MY!, trainer asked my boyfriend if I was “mean at home.” Then he said, “Because she’s mean to me here!” Chuckles all around at my expense!

And they just love to talk about injuries. It’s like they can’t help themselves. My boyfriend went on about a ski accident he had had that injured his shoulder. But it was 25 years ago! I never thought I’d be jealous over a rotator cuff injury.

It was all bad. There were positives to working out with my boyfriend. My trainer spent so much time with him that when he said, “Rebecca, do 15 chest presses” or “Do 20 squats,” he didn’t notice that I only did half that amount. And, I did enjoy watching my boyfriend work up a sweat. He blew me kisses while I was on the treadmill (my boyfriend, not my trainer), which was sweet. My trainer also trains two other couples and he says he enjoys it.

He sees that couples either motivate each other, mostly by yelling at one another, or that they really love each other because they like spending time together, even if it is at the gym.

When we got home, my boyfriend kept saying how fun that was. “That was so fun,” he repeated over and over. “We should definitely do that once a week together.” Really?

Even though I felt like a third wheel, I wasn’t completely against the idea. I’ll just have to jock up and start telling stories about my old surfing injuries.

Post City Magazines’ columnist Rebecca Eckler is the author of Knocked Up, Wiped!, and her latest books, How to Raise a Boyfriend and The Lucky Sperm Club.

Article exclusive to STREETS OF TORONTO