"Won't you get up?" He asked after getting tired of waiting.
"I can't," I winced. "I need help."
Another sigh escaped his lips as he came over and lifted me.
"You can't even run?" He looked at me.
"I can..." I lowered my gaze.
"Then what happened?"
"I don't know... Something might be wrong with it," I pouted, pointing at the treadmill.
He sighed and walked back to the stationary bicycle, picking up the slam ball. "You have to engage your core. Come," he called, and I went over to him.
He passed me the slam ball. "Try lifting the ball. It only weighs 5 kg."
"Okay," I said, lowering my body and reaching for the ball, but as I tried to lift it, I found it incredibly hard.
Why is it so heavy?
"Your posture is wrong," he noted. "Hold on." He stood up and came to me.
"Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, like this," he instructed.
"And slightly bend your knees. Grip the ball with both hands, arms extended," he continued.
"Ohhh," I nodded, watching him.
