A few weeks ago, I woke up and realized, with full clarity, that something needed to be done about my physical fitness.  Now, let me say something before the eyes begin to roll, and you start scrolling to something else.  I’m not the size of a house.  BUT … I have been quite a bit smaller in earlier years.  Like, let’s say, just for giggles, 3 dress sizes.  And now that I’m in my 30’s, it’s a little harder to get back on track and stay there.

In my moment of realization, I had to come to terms with the fact that sitting at a desk all day, eating lots of food (because I love it and it’s all SOOOO good) and not really exercising on a consistent basis is an equation that not uncommonly equals weight gain.   This meant two things that were as appealing to me as eating ketchup.  I’d have to watch the portion sizes of what I ate, and I’d have to make a conscious effort to begin and maintain a fitness regime.

Here’s the thing about me.  I will be dead serious about something for about, oh, let’s say, two weeks.  And then, I get really serious about something else (I’m hoping that’s not the case with this blog, which I am finding more and more ridiculously addictive by the day).

So on this day of infamy a few weeks ago, I opened up my bottom drawer (that which houses all my ratty workout clothing) and dug around for some gear.  I half-heartedly pulled it on, tied my hair back (this was pre-cutting-it-so-short-I-can’t-pull-it-back and … now it’s 99 degrees outside not taking into consideration the oppressive humidity and the whole not-being-able-to-pull-it-back thing is turning out to be a little inconvenient … but that’s another ramble) and jumped on the ancient stationary bicycle in our living room.  I may be mistaken, but I think that said bicycle (now relegated to the garage due to one of the joints cracking after a week of intense riding) could have qualified as an antique.  When Ole Orange broke (I just named him now, for his fabulous ’70s orange style), I could have used it as the perfect excuse to just give up on the maintenance of the workout program.  I mean, wasn’t it a message that he broke?

But then I realized that not working out meant actually sticking to my 1200 calorie-a-day diet plan, which is pretty hard.  With work outs, I usually earned myself a couple hundred more calories, and that made all the difference.  Plus, did I want to whine all the time about how crappy I felt … or did I want to actively do something to change it?

I picked actively change.

I got my iPod out.  I found my arm band.  I talked myself up about how great a jog would feel after all this time.  But ~ I kid you not ~ the iPod was frozen.  Sure, the jog would be great.  But without any musical motivation, I was starting to feel really hesitant.  I looked around the living room, and spied the small blue CD case that housed my worst fitness nightmare.  I pulled it from its dusty shelf.

Shaun T.’s Insanity Work Out.

Eight weeks of pure cardio h*ll in the comfort of your own living room.

This shiz … it’s bananas.

The workouts aren’t long (in the first half at least … I’ve never gotten through weeks 5-9) but they are brutal.  And there’s always Shaun T, smiling and jogging, and talking about imagining holding potato chips between your fingers (this is to ‘relax’ your hands).  The man is bananas.

I have conversations with Shaun T. during the 37 – 41 minutes of torture I endure six days a week.  He asks the camera questions, and I think it’s for all of us at home cursing his very existance to respond in indignation (that is, when you’ve been doing the program long enough to be able to breath).  Let me tell you, when Shaun T. laughingly says during the warm up stretch that he’s nervous about the workout to come … you KNOW there’s a problem.

I will say that I have been using the word bananas much more frequently, and not in reference to yellow fruit.  The entire program is bananas.  So far, Shaun T. has only categorized the Pure Cardio as bananas (he proclaims this during the miniscule break you get after fifteen straight minutes of cardio intensity), but I apply it to all the workouts.

However … despite the pain and frustration … the best part of the Insanity workouts are the results.  Because as hard as it is, and as much as I hate Shaun T. every morning when I flip on the DVD player, I love him when the workout ends.  Yeah, sure, I’m a hot sweaty mess.  But even in the few short weeks I’ve been rocking out with the Insanity peeps, I’ve lost weight, I feel stronger, and I have way more energy.  Having results like that make it worth doing workouts that even the instructor claim are … you know it … bananas!

I’m at the start of Week 4 (next week is my reprieve, aka ‘rest week’ ~ hallelujah!).  I’m nervous about what’s to come.  But I’m in it now ~ so keep your fingers crossed for me that I survive!