Day 6... only 24 freakin miserable days left.

There are certain phrases that Jillian uses throughout her workout video that catch my imagination and cause me to think things that don't belong in an exercise routine.  For instance, when attempting to dissuade us from quitting, Jillian often says, "Don't phone it in."  I don't know what that means!  Phone what in?  Is she talking about take-out?  Is she talking about pizza...  from Pizza Hut, with extra crispy deep dish crust dripping with butter, cheese and pepperoni grease?  How am I suppose to stay committed to this dogone workout if she keeps talking about PIZZA!?!

Heres another example.  Jillian says "if you're on day 5, 6, 7, 8 you are already starting to see results!"  What?!?!  Seriously?  Just what kind of results is she expecting me to see?  Has the concave of my belly button reached less than a 1.5 inch depth yet?  Nope.  When I sit, do I still see a bulge over my pants like the edge of a hard-packed ice cream cone (with butter pecan and carmel in it, topped with chocolate sprinkles, in a waffle cone.... oh.  I digress)?  Yes - I still have the bulge.  Do my inner thighs still rub together when I walk?  YES, gall-darn-it!  YES.

If I am being honest, I must admit I do see some results.  I....
1)  Can no longer lift my leg high enough to step on to the bathroom scale.
2)  Must call the cleaners to wash the sweat smell from the couch I land on after working out.
3)  Am painfully more aware that my toes won't be touchable until the inner tube is gone, and
4)  Am choosing clothing to wear based on minimal effort required to get dressed.

Any words of wisdom out there?  I could use the encouragement.  Like I said, there are 24 flippin days left of this particular video and I can't see the end in sight.  Help me out a little, k?

Maybe we could meet up at a donut shop and talk :)

Just so no one accuses me of cheating :)

Ok.  Let me explain.  I started the 30 day Shred on May 25th.  It wasn't until the next day that I started blogging, after my second workout.  So, I am truly on day 5, even though this is only my fourth posting.  I am glad that you asked since I needed to keep track for my own records.  I can hardly keep track of my age, let alone the number of consecutive days in the shredder.

Speaking of shredder... it's interesting the Jillian chose the word SHRED rather than shed.  When I think of shred, I envision paper going into a skinny slit and coming out in pieces.  That happens every time I try to slip into my wedding dress, except it's the dress that comes out in pieces.  Of course, a word like "shed" is too soft for this trainer of steal.  Shedding is too easy.  Horses do it.  Dogs do it.  Cats do it.  Even snakes do it.  Jillian wouldn't want us to be mistaken, believing that exercising and losing weight are as easy as changing your underwear (although, this household of boys seems to think changing one's underwear is as impossible as getting the dirty ones into the hamper consistently).  No girly, soft, squishy words like "shedding" are allowed in this exercise video.  No, friends.  With Jillian as our captain, we shred our bodies into shape.  This serves to confirm my suspicion that she was the bully from my grade school years.  I thought I saw that 'evil-eyed' glare before.

Ok, it's time to hit the showers.  Last night, after a very long day followed by the longest twenty minutes of my life in the shredder, I skipped the shower and hit the pillow.  That means I have a filmy two-day layer of sweat and dirt on this body.  Better get the ajax.

Day 4... a good day

I have to say that today was a good day with Jillian Michaels and her 30 day Shred.  Don't get me wrong.  She kept true to her word.  She didn't hold back any punches and literally kicked me in the butt (ok, well, I kicked me in the butt but Jillian made me do it).  I still prayed that God would make it stop with every jiggle of my belly fat, but TODAY I had some comic relief.

My husband macho'ed up and decided to "support" my efforts by joining me.  He started out really strong and made it all the way through the one minute of jumping jacks with hardly a groan.  By the time we got through jumping rope and stomach crunches he was asking if it was over yet.  It reminded me of a long car trip with the kids:  "Are we there yet?  When are we going to be there?  I have to pee!  Caleb is touching me!"  Blah blah blah.  Yada, yada, yada.

When we made it to the half way mark, the censors started beeping.  Without quoting him directly (I want to keep this blog family friendly) my studly husband was looking like he might be in need of a good cry.  He suspiciously stationed himself on the floor, behind the couch, out of the view of both the T.V. and me to do his ab exercises.  I kinda felt like a paramedic.  "Stay with me, Tim!  Don't go into the light!"

By the end of the exercise, from his seemingly permanent prostrate position on the floor, the brain muscles were kicking into gear for my dear hubby.  "The problem", he said "is that this video is made for a woman and it doesn't fit a man's physique and muscular structure.  If this had been a manly exercise DVD, I'd have done much better."

All I have to say is... Today, I won.  Cha ching.  It's a good day.

sweat makes typing slippery

As I am typing this entry, my muscles are quaking. The last two days I held my pee as long as possible so I could avoid having to stoop my body down to the toilet seat while trying not to fall in. I can feel the ache from my ankles to my tongue, which makes me wonder... was I sticking my tongue out while I was exercising? I can just imagine the neighbors peeking through the windows while I am exercising, laughing as I seemingly lick the air and bounce the floor boards.

By the way, I forgot to mention my starting weight. Right now I am at 220 lbs. I wonder if I can find a more flattering way to post that... how about 100 kg. That's better.

Do you remember pushing out your first baby with your husband at your side, spouting off commands and affirmations as you silently screamed profanities at him? "Shut up, you sack of testosterone! You haven't a clue!" "Say that one more time and I'm going to yank your nose hairs into a comb-over!" He is such a dear for staying by your side, but maybe he should just keep his mouth shut and keep the cream puffs coming.

Or maybe you had a female coach who walked into the room with multi-folded wallet pics of the six babies she gave birth to (at home, in the bathtub) and the sixteen baby bottle shaped pins on her jean dress representing all the babies she "brought" into the world as a birthing coach?

Sometimes a video exercise trainer is like a birthing coach. Either they have never acknowledged the insanely high metabolism they were born with, which is like the encouraging father who sees giving birth as a tough time on the toilet, OR they are masochists who worked insanely hard to get to the shape they are in, like the olympic procreator who thinks everyone should feel her pain for the love of baby-makers everywhere.

Just so you know, I don't think that ALL trainers are like this. I am just saying that by the end of the work out, when the sweat is dripping into my vision and the stench clouds the room, I tend to PERCEIVE them with more contempt than before. That's all I am saying.

Before I go, I just want to give a special shout out to my friend Amy, who kindly bought me a donut this morning. I think she's afraid that she'll lose her status as my BBBBF (see post 1).

That girl.... (entry 1)

You know that girl who had a bbbbf (beautiful, bone-thin, busty, best friend) all through middle school and high school that served as a means to an end for all her potential boy friends? You know... the girl who played sports because she happened to be good at it, but never uttered the dreaded "That felt great!" after busting her butt doing wind-sprints? She is the one who only broke a sweat because she had to ... never because it felt good (ewww). That girl is me.

I am the girl who knows she's got some pounds to shave, but never lets it stop her from one more Krispy Kreme donut. I am the girl who used to host the exercise groups at her own home because her friends knew she wouldn't come to the exercise... the exercise had to come to her. I truly believe that parking my car an extra spot away from the restaurant entrance entitles me to dip my fries in ranch dressing instead of ketchup. And, I am the girl who has found a million and one reasons to NOT exercise in the last two years. Yup. That's me.

So, before starting the exercise video called "30 Day Shred" with the nazi of all sickly smiley body-builder trainers, Jillian Michaels (even her name sounds masochistic), I thought I would start a blog and beg and plead with friends and strangers to show me support and keep me going. Jillian says I can lose UP TO 20 POUNDS IN 30 DAYS!!!!! (insert echoed monster-truck voice). I don't expect to lose 20 pounds in 30 days, but I also don't expect to succeed without a little help from my friends... and strangers. , This size 18 body could stand to lose any pounds willing to jump ship. Swim for shore, cellulite. This girl is getting serious.

It's you and me, Jillian. Bring it.