Why I Am Crying and Lying Under the Dining Room Table

This is all Erin's fault.

Erin with her quiet determination, Erin who decided to make fitness a priority, Erin who extolled the virtues of a workout DVD called 30 Day Shred.

Look. It's like her abs are judging you. That's what Rachael said when she saw it, and she is totally right.

See, Erin kept talking about how she's on level two now, and how she's lost weight, and how she feels like she's making positive strides toward fitness and life is good and...

I just can't hear that stuff without feeling a glimmer of hope. Like, maybe, just maybe, this will work for me. Because it's an indoor thing, and so the weather will not be involved. Because it doesn't involve me running or anything that might cause an asthma flare-up or mean that other people could possibly see me sweat. It is a video. How horrible can a video be?

Turns out, pretty horrible.

I have lots of Fitness Theories.

The first one is, that because I lift things all day, chase children, and run up and down stairs, I am getting a workout just by showing up to work every day*.

The second theory is that, since my lungs are constantly struggling to function, what with the asthma, walking around and breathing at the same time counts as cardio**.

The third is, since asthma makes my lungs and heart work harder than they should, I am actually more fit than other people. I would be able to outrun you, if my lungs worked right***.

I also think that if God had wanted us to exercise, he would have made more bears. And also zombies. Or, like a girl on Twitter told me, He would have made couches out of scorpions.

I feel like, without something chasing me, running has no purpose. It is like math that way. If you don't need to work out how many yards of lace-weight you need for the gorgeous shawl pattern you found, than why are you multiplying numbers?

On Tuesday, I was killing time before meeting Rachael (of the judging-abs comment), when I found myself wandering through Walmart. And picking up 30 Day Shred, and picking up hand weights (with Velcro straps that will prevent my throwing them accidentally) and buying both of these things and resolving that, if Erin can do this workout, I can do this workout too, because I have legs and arms and can do things****.

And so today, I did 30 Day Shred for the first time, and now I am dead. I never got out of breath, so maybe my lung-function leading to better heart health theory is actually valid. But my muscles are now made of some kind of Jello-like substance and I am pretty sure I am a corpse that is somehow walking around and talking to people.

This is what 30 Day Shred is like.

Jillian: "I am skinnier than you. And also I have more money. Now do what I tell you, and you will be skinny, but unfortunately, still poor."

Me: "I hate your face."

Jillian: "Now do jumping jacks!"

Me: "At least I was skinny when I was a kid. Unlike some people."

Jillian: "You are doing really well!"

Me: *sweat drips into eyes* "Don't patronize me, Jillian."

Jillian: "Just four more of these lunges!"

Me: "I think you are the Devil."

The only problem with my surviving level one of the DVD is that I have to survive it again when I repeat the process. The DVD says I should do this every day.

I can see myself continuing this process only for one reason: I violently dislike Jillian Michaels, because I feel that, though she has never met me before in her life, she actually hates me because I am less physically fit than I ought to be. I realize that this belief is inherently flawed. I am sure that the Real Life Jillian Michaels is actually a really nice person who loves her family and just really wants people to be healthy, but for some reason, I interpret this desire of Jillian's as hatred directed at me. The sane part of my brain feels guilty about believing these terrible things about Jillian. The crazy part of me thinks she didn't really need that car of hers when she has such an awesome, tricked out broom she rides around at night*****.

I'm a bad person******.

(But, in my defense, I am mostly dead.)

* This is probably a lie.

** This is almost certainly a lie.


*** This is definitely a lie.


**** Clearly, I was suffering from some kind of delusional break from reality. I cannot do things.


***** Honestly, Jillian. I am really sorry. I'm a bad person. But I promise I will change my errant ways if your DVD makes me healthy.


****** This should come as news to none of you.