Ouch

You know that feeling you have sometimes like, "I can handle anything. I'm in reasonably good shape. I'm of sound mind. I've got my health. I've got a good support network. I'm tough. Pretty much any curve ball that life throws at me would be handled in some shape or form?"

You would think that I would stop thinking like that after the car accident that pushed me to the edge.

Still, that's how I approached Jillian and her Shred. I believe my exact train of thought was, "Pshaw. I'm in reasonably good shape. Level One? Bring it."

Apparently I had chosen to forget the last three months or so when I barely moved off the couch except to walk the dogs. Or perhaps I thought that just changing my eating habits slightly to lower my cholesterol magically put me in better shape. Either way, I was delusional.

I had to stop during the workout (the twenty minute workout) twice. TWICE. Of course, both breaks were for less than 5 seconds because Jillian yelling at you from a DVD is only marginally less intimidating than what I would imagine it would be like to have her in the room with you. She said breaks for no more than five seconds, and I had no choice but to obey. (After watching the Biggest Loser one night, I casually mentioned to the boy that I believed Jillian's sole reason for existing was to make overweight people cry. It's true. I cried.)

After the workout, I had difficulty going down to the basement to let the dogs out. I then immediately fell into a 20 minute nap. No joke. Like, I sat down to rest for a second before doing dishes, and woke up in the middle of Jeopardy. Today I'm sore. It's not awful soreness, I can lift my arms above my head with barely a grimace, and I can navigate stairs with only marginal pain. I've had worse from other various workouts. The thing is that the other various workouts were for an hour or more. This was twenty minutes. I can't stress that enough. Twenty. Minutes.

I dread tonight's workout. Still, I'm stubborn. If I don't actually finish level 1 tonight, it will be tomorrow. I may die trying, but I'll finish.

Stupid family weight loss competition.