Why I hate working out

So I decided to do this 3-part workout video for 30 days because let's face it, I'm fat and out of shape. I figured I'd do each part for 10 days, and it couldn't be all that bad, right? I'd feel good and it promises that you can lose 20 pounds if you do the workout for 30 days.

So day 1 I do the first part of the workout and by 5 minutes into it I'm pretty sure that I hate myself for even thinking of this idea. I am supposed to be doing some sort of lunge while pressing weights over my head, but after about the first 5 of these my arms give out and I am merely barely waving the weights somewhere around mid-chest. By 15 my legs are also shot and I'm more swaying back and forth than lunging. I have a blister on my big toe and my underwear is riding up but I can't adjust it because I'm holding the weights. I'm panting like a dog and trying desperately not to think about the fact that it's only been 5 minutes.

It doesn't get any better from there, but I finish the workout and feel a small surge of satisfaction that I can now say I am "working out". That glow of happiness dies by the next morning when I wake up to discover that my left earlobe is the only part of my body that moves properly. Nevertheless, I have made a commitment so I start up level one once again and I can only describe the following 20 minutes as the next layer of hell.

By day 3, the body is slowly adjusting and I don't actually curse out loud at the instructor on my screen cheerfully encouraging me to "keep pushing through it!" Maybe this is only actually purgatory and not hell itself. Days 4 and following are progressively less painful and I start to secretly tell myself that I don't look that much different than the toned, fit, skinny women on the screen. Until I catch my reflection in the window while bounding off the ground like a gazelle during the jumprope exercise and realize that the only part of me that looks like it's bounding are my boobs. The rest of me just looks like a mass of jiggling fat.

After 10 days of level one, I am ready to move on to level 2. And discover that the previous tortures were only a warm-up to the real thing. I spend more of level 2 sprawled on the ground trying to get myself back into the push-up position that you are supposed to be in for half the workout than actually doing the workout. Tonight I finished day 3 of level 2, and while I did manage to only lay prone on the ground once, I still spent most of the 20 minutes of the workout wishing that I could have my toenails ripped out instead. I just don't enjoy it. Not really any part of it.

But in the end, after completing almost half of the 30 days, is it at least producing the desired results? Am I burning fat and creating lean muscle so that in a matter of 17 more days I will be proud to stride around in a bikini? Well, Jeff does do his part to tell me things like, "I think you're looking more toned. Your legs definitely look more toned than they did before." Miriam isn't as helpful. She snuggled up to me yesterday and said, "Mama, is your tummy fat?" Well this morning I stepped on the scale to see where all of my hard work had gotten me. The verdict? Two whole pounds off. Like I said, I don't like working out.