So here’s how it went down—literally.
My new physical trainer, Jack, decided that the gym wasn’t challenging enough. Apparently, air-conditioning and padded floors are for softies. So, off we went to the exercise corner at my apartment.
You know, the one I used to casually stroll past thinking, “This corner isn’t for me. Irrelevant.”
Plot twist: it is now very relevant.
Jack introduced me to something called TRX. Sounds like a sleek spaceship or a fitness robot from the future. But no. It’s just two innocent-looking straps hanging from a bar—designed to turn your entire body into jelly while making you question your sense of balance and your life choices.
First up: TRX Row

Jack said, “Just lean back and pull yourself up.”
Lean back?
I’ve spent the last few years learning to stay upright, and now you want me to play human flagpole?
I leaned back. My legs trembled. My brain yelled, “Error 404: Stability Not Found.”
But Jack calmly said, “You’ve got this.” So I pulled. And wobbled. And yes—“rowed” is the right word. I looked like someone trying to paddle a boat that’s already half-sunk. But hey—I was doing it!
Then came: TRX Lunges

Apparently, regular lunges weren’t dramatic enough. Now I had to lunge while hanging onto straps like I was auditioning for Cirque du Soleil.
It felt like yoga, pilates, and a panic attack all rolled into one. I survived—barely.
TRX Push-Ups

By this point, I’d accepted my fate. Jack said, “Just go low, keep it tight.”
I went low.
Gravity went lower.
But I made it through—and my chest might’ve grown 0.03% bigger. Worth it.
The Incline Push-Ups and Squats

These felt... almost normal. Until Jack added, “Try going slower.”
Which is trainer-code for, “Let’s make you cry in public.”
Despite the struggle, the sweat, and the few moments of sheer terror, I have to admit—I kind of loved it.
TRX scared me at first. That backward lean felt like I was going to fall off a cliff. But with Jack’s calm guidance (and his refusal to let me chicken out), I did it. And surprisingly? I’m still alive. Stronger, even.
So here’s to stepping out of your comfort zone. To dangling from straps in the middle of your HDB block. And to discovering that the exercise corner you once ignored is now your new training ground.
Next session? I’m bringing a parachute.
Just in case.