I survived a week of Insanity.
Right now I am slung over the computer like a half sack of grain on a skinny man’s shoulder. I just survived my first week of Insanity, and I’m too exhausted to type let alone celebrate the fact I’m still here.
I wake up in the mornings and think, I’m glued in bed, because my muscles froze. I’m going to die of starvation with nothing but six pillows and a stuffed dog named Rooster Cogburn to keep me company.
Insanity is all about movement. Lots of cardio. Lots of plyometrics. Lots times a lot of ab-busting moves. And lots of Why the heck am I doing this?! thoughts chasing themselves around.
Additionally, Insanity is about turning into a sweat-dripping, screaming-at-the-television, collapsing-on-the-floor maniac. A startling resemblance to an entire football team after two-a-days in the late August heat.
Essentially? This is not the time to invite that boy you’ve got a crush on to come hang out.
And yet, I’m in like with the program. I seriously grumbled my way into the start of it this morning. Likely something to do with the four pop-tarts I had for breakfast. Don’t do that. Be a better woman than me, and hold it to three.
But I’m never sorry I worked out. Think about it, how many things are there in life that you’ll never regret doing? Exercise is one of them.
I didn’t start the Insanity workout program because I wanted to look good playing sand volleyball this summer. Although that would be nice now that I think about it. If I played sand volleyball. Which I don’t, so scratch that.
This is Project Half Marathon in motion. I live in north Idaho, and I choose not to have a gym membership or massacre my lungs by running outside during the winter. In order to stack on the miles this spring, I needed something to help get me in shape.
Insanity was the obvious choice, because a friend was willing to lend it to me. AKA: free! However, I now have suspicions that he is having a good chuckle over what I’m going through. It should whip me into some semblance of fitness that allows me to hit the ground running in March though, and that’s what I wanted.
I’m not an Insanity junkie. Not yet. But I fear I’m dangerously close to busting out my Buzz Lightyear voice, raising my fist and shouting, “To Insanity…and beyond!”
* Hey y’all, let the record show I’m not endorsing Insanity. I’m not reviewing it. I’m not getting paid or being given a tiny little statue or a feed truck full of pop-tarts. I just wanted to share my experience with this exercise program and rejoice in the fact it hasn’t killed me. Yet.