If you are a regular reader (and I’m totally judging you if you are), then you know a while back, I did a post with my New Year’s resolutions. My #1 resolution was to make friends with Jillian Michaels and do her 30 day shred program. My question is, how the hell can you be friends with someone when they are trying to fucking kill you?
Today was day one. Yeah, I know it’s February and it was a New Year’s resolution, but actually starting in January seems a little cliche. When I was finished I wasn’t sure if I was going to fall over or puke.
And it was the beginner workout.
And I didn’t use weights.
And I peed a little.
I will confess I’ve never watched The Biggest Loser & was expecting someone to be yelling at me the whole time, but she’s actually quite encouraging. I was doing fine until the end where she wanted me to do some kind of butterfly crossover fuck you up sit up. My arms wouldn’t lift off the ground, so I sat that one out, but that was my only cheat. The workout was great, I felt like a superhero for making it to the end.
Then I tried to come upstairs. I thought my Jell-o legs would give out, crash into the cat food on the landing and Alec would have to come gather up his urine soaked wife and pick the cat food out of my hair while I cried about how I didn’t give a shit about having nice abs.
But I made it upstairs.
The pee thing. What in the name of all that is holy is that about? I didn’t even have to pee, but every time Satan, I mean Jillian, had me doing jumping jacks, I peed. Purely the effect of pushing humans outta my area? Nothing says sexy like grabbing a pad to cover your incontinence before a workout – and yeah, I did the kegal exercises before, during and after each pregnancy. I had no idea working out would require adult diapers! I feel bad for Alec – if that’s how I’m rollin’ these days, it’s gotta be like throwing a pickle down a hallway.
I have to go to Wal-Mart now to get some Depends before tomorrow’s workout – and to tell the 20 year old girls with tight bodies that hang out in the cosmetic isle that they’re only 11 years away from wanting to puke & die on a basement carpet after a workout that will consist of their gunt flapping away on their thighs and pee running down their legs.
Then again, I should let them be surprised like I was.