I consider myself in good shape...for me.
That means that I'm equal parts desire to look bangin' and desire to lay in bed and have all the great foods (read: cobbler, cookies, chocolate, and anything else delicious that starts with C...or the other letters) teleport to me, where I will then consume them all until I feel completely disgusting and start crying that "This is why I will be alone the rest of my life!" until I fall asleep amid the crumbs.
But I digress.
The point is, I'm in much better shape than I was a year ago. Joining Nevada Fitness Club kicked my ass, don't get me wrong, and did so on a regular and unrelenting basis.
But for the first time since I played competitive tennis all summer long in the broiling mid-day heat on purpose (aka the early 90s), I felt like I was in shape.
Until Wednesday night.
The first time I did Insanity, a girl with a bad ankle out-performed me while I lay sprawled on the gym floor, dazed and wheezing and generally questioning both how I had let myself get this out of shape and what the hell I was doing there.
The first time I did Asylum (Insanity Part Deux), I swore I tasted blood in the back of my throat through the last half of the workout.
The first time I did Insanity Max, I thought there was something wrong with the DVD.
It would have been comical if I hadn't been fighting so hard to suck air. As it was, these people were not human. If this DVD wasn't Insanity on speed, I don't know what would be. It was as if the DVD had been set on fast-forward. The entire thing was people going so fast it seemed like there had to be something underhanded going on. People don't MOVE that fast. I don't even think Olympic athletes can go that fast.
If it hadn't been for the three 30-second water breaks, I would have "maxed" about seven minutes in.
It was hard to explain. Imagine just going through speed drills as fast as you can for 30 minutes straight, with the exception of those three water breaks. Burpees, squats, running in place, jumping, push-ups, mountain climbers, and GO FASTER! GO! GO! GO! GO!
I made it until the 22 minute mark. And then the 23 minute mark. And then 25. By the end, I really had no idea what was going on. My eyes were full of sweat. Or tears. Whatever, they stung. My mouth was Sahara-dry.
And there was so. much. sweat.
I would like to say I left and consumed a completely reasonable, low-carb dinner.
But that would be a lie. Instead, I ate a fourth of an apple cobbler, six pumpkin Oreos, and a loaded baked potato.
The second time I did Insanity Max, I told myself I was ready.
And it didn't seem as bad.
I'm just kidding. It was pretty bad.
Because JUMPING AND LANDING INTO SQUATS.
Because BRING YOUR KNEES UP TO YOUR HANDS, NOT YOUR HANDS DOWN TO YOUR KNEES.
Because JUMPING PUSH-UPS.
A push-up that you do, then "jump" your entire body (like the WHOLE body, including hands and feet, leaves the ground and lands a few inches away), IN PUSH-UP FORM, and then you repeat it.
What saved me in Insanity Max's night two was that I can handle ab work a lot better because I get to lay down, and I can handle tricep work pretty well because that's always been one of my favorite things to work (read: easy for me).
It wasn't quite as miserable.
I'd like to say I left and consumed a completely reasonable, low-carb dinner.
But that would be a lie. Instead, I ate two Poptarts, part of a chicken fried steak with gravy, fried green beans, and two beers.
So yeah, all the Insanity Max in the world doesn't make up for a completely garbage diet.
But it was pretty badass anyway.
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