Vinroy Barrett, the boxer

A poem for the man…

Stella and Eric, friends, I guess… they said, you looking old
You need to make some changes girl,
And straighten up your act
We’ve got a cure for what need
you’ll shed a pound or more
That’s what you need… We certainly see
and strengthen up that core
You look a little flabby too
You could trim a little off the sides and middle
Well… There’s alot that you can do!!!
We have a friend we’d recommend
He knows just what to put you through.
I started meeting Vinroy man
before the sun came up…
He watched me close, like training a horse
correcting every move.
He’s mostly cruel, and kinda fun
But ya never know what he’s plotting…
So time went by…
One day I said,
My knees are hurt… Can’t take no more
With pity, I thought I saw a grin
That grin turned into wide eyed smile
Then said…  Ok, we’ll get your core
Weighs in hands and back on ball
I lay there on the ground
With tears in eyes
and pleads to heaven
I bench pressed 50 pounds.
Vinroy, I said, that’s half my weight!
He said girl, look again
That scale don’t lie, you suck it up
Remember where you’ve been.
Those pasta days are in your past
Those butter rolls are gone
Those dimples they have got to go
Those muscles need to lift
And when they’re all back in their place
We’ll start it all again.
But Vinroy I ain’t lost a pound,
Not thin like I should see.
You’re stronger now, not near as mean…
That girl you used to be
You garden, Run, and lift those rocks
And bounce back from those life’s hard knocks
You’re better now, so see
With afterthought, I must admit
With Vinroy… I’ll agree.
His habit’s odd
He always says
We’re gonna do those lunges now
But really, that ain’t even true
I lunge across the room alone
While he counts, and checks his phone
Vinroy, “We” ain’t doing lunges here
It’s really only me
He makes a note
my form is good
And ups those reps times three.
I argue with him sometimes… he’s always talking “core”
My core it’s good don’t need that work
Okay he says, then push ups… Give me 50 more
My body’s weak
my arms are sore
That man don’t count real fair
I know I counted 20
He said that’s 10… stay there
Do all those reps, don’t be a wimp
You’re almost done he said
And then I heard those blessed words
Three, two, one…
Red faced, with sweat and pleading
I looked him square into the eye, with my best smile… I say
We’re done here right?
Oh no, he said, your favorite part is just ahead!
The elliptical is next
I know you love that sweet machine
Hit it girl, and fast.
Ya know,
He’s Mean, he’s cruel, he’s a stubborn mule…
I guess that’s just his job.
I punch him in his arm of steel
Hey Vinroy, see you Friday then?
Okay we’ll do it all again
‘Til fit we are, and fit we’ll stay
Thanks to Vinroy man…  that encourages…  all along the way!

a poem by Pebble Blue aka Brenda McClearen