I gave Eric Goh, my personal trainer at California Fitness, a new nickname.

I now call him Dr Evil.

Of course, he’s not evil evil, because everything he does ultimately benefits his gym charges but, still, sometimes you just want to strangle him.

Like, he bluffed me that my body fat mass was a lot higher than it actually was, and I didn’t find out the truth until our 7th week together.

He’d make me do really unglam exercises.

With wretched aftermaths.

Earlier today, we were doing crunches.

Now, for the past 15 sessions, we had always been doing three sets of each workout, with the exception of one session, when we only did two.

So, after three sets of 50 crunches each, I waited for him to ask me to get up, as usual.

He didn’t.

I turned to him and gave him a pitiful look.

I said, “I finished three sets already.”

He looked back at me with a poker face and said, “Yah, I know.”

I said, “So, I’m done, right?”

He said, “Are you?”

I said, “Don’t tell me you’re making me do a fourth set!”

He said, “Why not?”

I said, “Where got do four sets one?!?!?”

He said, “Why not? Did we sign a contract saying you can only do three sets?”

Grrrrrrrrrrrr.

And then he did the “neverending count” trick during my fourth set. The one where he goes back to 30 after counting 39, so I never, ever reach 40.

Anyway, my BodyAge Challenge is almost at an end. One more session for me, and then the final test to measure my body age.

I can almost smell the durians and the Big Macs! Right now, it’s like, got chair cannot sit.

I can’t believe I’ve dieted for two months. I’ve never been able to stick to any kind of diet for two days.

I guess having an evil trainer really helps a lot. And I’ve never felt healthier in my life.

I might actually miss allowing myself to be tortured like this when it’s all over.

But I’ll confirm with you again after I’ve feasted on my durians and Big Macs. =)