About halfway through my new workout with The Beast, I stare down at the treadmill's timer - marching towards ten minutes - and two thoughts occur to me.

1) I am not going to complain today.
2) Oh Christ, what if he wants to do more than 10 minutes.

I bit my lip, stare ahead and try to blot out the second thought in my mind by pretending I'm a recruit in Shaka Zulu's army. Shaka, for those of you who don't know, was a charismatic psychopath who ruled over the Zulu nation in the Victorian era. If you were around at the time and over seventeen years of age, you were immediately conscripted into his massive army, and were made to do practice drills that would have most members of the US Marine Corp writing strong letters to their Member Of Congress. I don't care how tough Marine Bootcamp is; I doubt any drill sergeant has made a batallion take off their shoes and then jump up and down on thorns until they're reduced to powder. And even if he has, I doubt he has clubbed to death anyone who cried out in pain.

The gym trainer from hell!

I don't believe The Beast will do this either, although, by God by the end I start to wish he would. We begin by running at a brisk pace (read: 10 on the treadmill) for 10 minutes. Then we head over to the chairs of doom for leg extensions and leg abductions (yes, that's an exercise) to do 25 leg extensions, then 25 leg abductions, then 25 leg extensions, then 25 leg abductions, then 25 leg extensions, then 25 leg abductions - WITHOUT A FUCKING BREAK.

Then its back over to the treadmill to do another 10 minutes broken into two parts. We begin by walking up a steep incline at a brisk pace (incline: 9, pace: 6.0) for five minutes, and then the incline comes off and we sprint for 5 minutes. Then it's back over to the mats for 15 crunches. Then 20 crunches. Then 25 crunches. Then (yes, you guessed it) 30 crunches. Then (can you wait?) 35 crunches.

Back over to the treadmills. Sprint for 5 minutes. Raise the incline to nine and walk at a brisk pace as before for 5 minutes. Are we done yet? Body says yes. The Beast says no. Back over to the mats for 4 sets of 15 leg lifts. By this stage The Beast is breathing heavily, and I look like my heart burst in my chest.

"I read that you've been out of the gym for a bit, so I thought I'd get you back into it with something easy," says The Beast. And then he laughs maniacally.

I nod, and this seems to perplex him. Then he pays me the first compliment I think I've received since this whole thing began.

"Congratulations on not whining like a little bitch like you normally do. Hit the showers, killer."

I stumble down stairs, suppressing the urge to just hurl myself down them. I don't care if it's dangerous, or if the fall would hurt - right now my legs hurt a lot more! I feel so horrible. My head feels clogged, my legs are throbbing and the music in the gym, if anything, is even worse than before. Welcome back, idiot. The pain palace has missed you.