Farewell to (a necessary) evil

I've been in mourning these past weeks:   Jakki, the kick-ass instructor for my weekly weight-lifting class, the kicker-of-my-wimpy-ass on every Tuesday afternoon for the past 18 months is no longer teaching at my gym after today.

It's said that the best are always the first to leave and, well....  Seriously.   Jakki gets full credit for any and all muscle tone I own.  Relentless, demanding, creative, fun, aggravating, goading, with a buff physique only attributable to doing everything she's doling out, and -- oh, yeah -- evil.

As in, the first time I went to her class in November 2009, I. Hated. Her:

"On my gym's website, Jakki's bio states that she enjoys challenging participants with a safe but intense workout. "My favorite part of teaching isn’t the music or the exercises, it’s the smile I see when people leave class feeling better about themselves and more confident to take on a new challenge…maybe another class!”

What Jakki's bio didn't say: "I like to stride around the room when you're on the 13th minute of the 15-minute non-stop abdominal workout and shout out, 'I know what I'm asking you to do is evil. Who thinks I'm evil?! I don't hear you! Who thinks I'm evil! You will thank me later! You will!"

I'm thanking her now ... with fond regret.