I decided to keep going back to Nevada Fitness Club after that disastrous first night, because I felt great afterward. And that feeling of greatness continued through post-workout Night Two, my introduction to T25.
T25 was great, because even though it is an intense cardio workout, it's only 25 minutes in length, and that's my dream length of time when I'm doing any kind of intense physical activity.
And then there was Night Three: The First Night of Insanity.
Sure, I had heard about Insanity, but only by description, and that description was pretty much always brief and limited to the same wording: "It sucks."
But the same guy who founded T25 created Insanity, so I thought, well, T25 wasn't TOO bad, so Insanity should be doable, as well.
It's that kind of logic that makes me a better creative-type thinker.
It's not like I didn't KNOW what I was going into. But retroactively, I didn't know what I was going into.
The best way I can phrase it is, "It sucks."
I went without Regan, and when I got there I saw one of my new theater employees right next to my favorite spot on the back row. She had recently suffered an ankle injury, so I thought, well, if she's here with an ankle injury, I can definitely handle this. I had NO ankle injury.
Like I said, logic - not my bag.
She basically mopped the floor with me.
"Mopped the floor" was also the position I favored that night, because that's what you could have done with my prone body as I literally covered it in a face-down, spread-eagle type position. I made it through about eight minutes straight and then melted to the ground in a lake of my own sweat.
What kind of monster would come up with this workout? And then act all peppy throughout that many straight minutes of hell?
Hmm, I just don't know. Could it be....SATAN?
It was strange that I limped through a quarter of the workout and still felt so absolutely destroyed afterward. How could anyone get through that entire thing? That many pushups!? That much running and lunging and running and pushing up and who the hell invented the Burpee? Yes, all of these signs pointed to this being Satan's work.
And yet, I continued to go back. And then, slowly, very, very slowly, I lost some weight.
And then some more. We're talking, like, five pounds. But in addition to that five pounds, I started to see some definition. For the first time, I had semi-defined abs. I had sculpted arms. I didn't realize it until I re-connected with a very dear former friend over the summer and he couldn't stop talking about my arms. And then my oncologist, during my annual "Feel-Up in July" event, asked me if I had been working out. It was during a very awkward part of the exam, but still, she asked. And then followed it with a comment that she could really tell in my arms, and that I looked good.
So that was really awesome. By July I had lost 12 pounds, as well, although that was probably too much. I'm only saying that to justify the seven I've gained back, really.
And now, 10 months later, I breeze through (and by that I mean I remain mostly upright throughout) Insanity.
So I have learned that being almost 40 does NOT mean that I can't be in pretty good shape.
The biggest struggle, though, is continuing to find time. And sometimes, with two jobs, that's really, really hard. I'm learning to make this a priority. And I find that it's getting easier and easier to do.
Seriously, come hang with us.
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