Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Rumors of my death are only somewhat exaggerated

Ok, so a couple of days ago, June over at Bye Bye Pie, mentioned a workout video, or "veeedeo" as her Grandma calls it, that enabled her sis-in-law to lose buttloads of weight and does any of her faithful readers and commentors want to join in the fun and lose buttloads of weight also?

Well, since I do have an addiction to crack (Del Taco Bacon & Egg Quesadillas) I could stand to lose a buttload of weight from my butt and other parts of my body so I'm all, "I'm in!" and trotted off to the 'Zhay to get my very own Jillian Michaels of the Wonky Eye 30 Day Shred Veeedeo although actually it's a DVD.
June asked us to send in "before" pictures but yeah, I don't think so especially since I have a camera that is possessed by some horrid hag who seems to show up in every photo of me.  What's even more weird is that she's always dressed in the exact same outfit as me, has the same hair, everything.  It's like she's my ugly doppelganger or something.  So anyway, I won't be showing a "Before" picture until Father Whathisname from The Exorcist can come and perform an exorcism on my camera.

I knew that if I were to do this veeedeo, I would need to do it when there were no witnesses to my flailing and gasping.  So Sunday morning, there was only me and Gracie Lou in the house and I had a very small window of opportunity before TheManTheMyth and Thing 1 arrived home from a race so I grabbed my handweights, and popped in the veeedeo/DVD and well, it didn't go so good.

And I made a discovery or two while attempting to complete Level 1.  Yes, I said Level 1.  As in the easy-peasy beginner level.  Don't you judge me.   I discovered that doing jumping jacks caused me to have, um, a bit of an "accident" because I haven't been doing my Kegel exercises, if you get my drift.  And for those of you who aren't quite sure what I'm talking about, I peed.  There.  I said it.  I have weak bladder muscles.  If I want to continue to do the jumping jacks part of the cardio, I will need to get me some Depends or Poise Pads.  Yeah, yeah, TMI.  Sue me.

I also discovered that I can't do anything that involves impact on the lower extremities, such as the running in place buttkicks.  And those lunges where you kind of kneel like you're genuflecting?  No can do.  Oddly, I don't have a problem doing squats.  Go figure.  And the jump rope part?  Not a problem, either.  Weird.

I also discovered that trying to do the pushups is an invitation for Gracie Lou to come running over and start trying to kiss me and lick my ears.  Then humping my leg.  And trying to push her away just gives her the idea that we're playing a game and she's all, "Woo hoo!  Mommy wants to play!" and I'm all "Stop trying to give me a wet Willie!  I'm trying to work out here!" and she's all "I love my mommy! kiss kiss kiss lick lick lick!"

So, I get about halfway through Level 1 and I'm DYING because I'm in such good physical condition with the stamina of a sloth who's been taking Doggy Downers.  My wrists hurt.  My arms hurt from the boxing motions and from the massive 2lb weights I'm using.  My knees hurt.  My thighs are screaming with pain from doing squats while lifting those massive 2lb weights.  My hair hurts, my eyelids hurt and my nostrils hurt from trying to flare them back at Flaring Nostrils Jillian.  I'm gasping and my fingers are sweating and I start to see a big white light with all my dead loved ones telling me to Go Towards the Light when I hear the most beautiful sound.  No, not angels singing.  I hear the sound of a Ford F450 Powerstroke Diesel engine.  Which tells me the menfolk are home and my excuse to throw in the towel.  Because I had to move my car out of the way so they could park the trailer.  Yes.  That's it.  I couldn't finish because I had to move my car.

I stagger to my feet and my legs are like jello.  I can barely walk because my legs, arms and head are shaking so badly.  I can't talk, I can barely croak out a greeting to my menfolk and they're all, "What's wrong with YOU?" and I'm all, "Flail.  Gasp.  Workout.  Cry.  Help.  Dying" and they're all, "Uh, yeah.  What's for lunch?"


For the rest of the day, just breathing is painful and I'm thinking to myself that there is no effin' way I can do this every.single.day for 30 days.  Unless I want my family to be set for life when they put in a claim on my life insurance policy because I have died from trying to get shredded.  Like I'm hashbrowns or something.


Even sleeping was an ordeal because every muscle in my body was so sore that it kept me awake.


I will keep plowing at Level 1 because I spent $9.04 on this here veeedeo but I'm not doing it every day for 30 days because well, I don't want to die.  So I'm renaming this veeedeo, Kelly's 90 to 120 Day Shred.  With cheese.


Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go buy a package of Depends.  And Ben Gay.  And Epsom Salts.  And liquor.


Don't you judge me.

5 comments:

  1. I'm not supposed to be checking on blogs today. I'm only supposed to be writing, but I saw your post and had to come over. Don't feel bad, Kelly. I'm a gym rat. I thought 20 minutes, that is nothing. Day 3. Level 1. I cannot move. I cannot walk. If I have to move, I scream, "Ow, Ow, Ow" the whole time.

    Hilarious. I feel your pain. Literally.

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  2. LOL -- Loved this! Loved that Liz posted about your blog - to tell the truth, I hadn't noticed it in your siggie. Now that I've 'found' it I'll be following...

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  3. I would never judge you dahlink - in fact I did a little sympathy pee while reading this post. Bless your heart - I say let's pack a bag full of chips, pork rinds, Snickers bars, and real Coke and jump the Jillian chick, hold her down and forcefeed her. Then laugh uproariously and run away...okay, limp away. I'd like to kick her a$$ - but it's so tight I would probably break my foot....I think you're gorgeous my love!

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