Jillian tried to kill me with a squat.
I don’t even know if they were squats, but everything becomes a squat of death when you have four gallons of sweat in your eyes and every muscle in your lower body is trembling.
“Ramp up your workout.” Says everyone.
“Walking is for sissies and old lady’s.”
“Pick up those feet and R.U.N.”
“Give Jillian the chance to kill you.”
I’ve heard it all. I know pulling on my big girl shorts and lacing up my sneakers is good for me.
I can do more.
Of course I can.
I am woman.
Hear me roar!
It’s just that my mind isn’t really communicating with my muscles. The call was dropped and we can’t seem to reconnect. I am lazy to my core, and I absolutely mean the core that centers around my belly button – the one that I should be crunching, engaging, and toning. I just hate the feeling of being one leg-lift away from death.
Is that so wrong?
After about ten minutes of Jillian’s Killer Buns and Thighs, I found myself with my face in the carpet and puddle of sweat pooling around my body.
I pivoted, jumped into squats, lunged (while thinking about strangling the person who invented these exercises), suspended myself in the air with one toe while the rest of my body twisted side-to-side, and contorted my hamstring muscles in ways that should have been listed as Thou Shalt Not’s of the ten commandments.
Then I gave up.
I did, however, lift one eye towards the TV so I could see the coming torture that is called Level 1. I shutter to think what is involved with Level 3. I suspect it’s like the third level of hell. In fact, there may have been a moment when I thought Jillian was the devil herself.
Jillian, if you’re out there reading (which I know you’re not, because you’re in a gym half-killing chubby people), I apologize for seeing horns growing out of your head. It was the sweat in my eyes blurring my vision. I am sure you are the patron saint of tight thighs.
Tonight as I’m walking around the track, I’ll be running my head. I promise I will. Every good and bad thing we do begins on the inside, so on this day, I am running the blasted New York City Marathon inside my mind. Heck, I may even dream of doing the Zumba.
And if we happen to meet up in my mind, go ahead and compliment my thighs.
Because after today’s workout, I earned it.
You remember Dani from the T2 video we did a few weeks ago, right?
Well, she’s hosting an online Christmas Crunch Challenge. It’s designed to whip your lazy self into shape while being ultra supportive and encouraging.
Quit laughing please. I can assure you this is not a laughing matter. In fact, I’m crying a little on the inside. You see I am every bit as lazy as you can imagine. Sweat is a four letter word that just happens to have five letters.
I’m weak, but I’m about to get strong with the help of Dani and all the other lovely ladies joining the Christmas Crunch Challenge.
Yes, it’s ladies only. Sorry to the three men who actually read this blog. I know you were dying to join a fitness challenge.
Now, for you competitive types, there’s even a prize at the end, so knock yourselves out.
By the time everyone else is moaning and groaning over their extra holiday weight, we’ll be out buying new jeans in a smaller size (think positive!).
Wanna join me?
I hope you will!!! I need the moral support.
It’s only $5 to join, and that’s a steal.
Go check out Dani’s fitness blog for more information.
Run, don’t walk!