itS inSANE

 

 

Previously, I reviewed P90X.

So I thought I’d shed some light on my latest and greatest home workout of choice.

It’s called Insanity.

And Our relationship = Love + hate.

 

 

Now I had been sufficiently warned about this crazy little workout regimen, so I dove in fully aware I was in for a whooping.

And since I had a cruise coming up and the personal trainer I sampled just wanted to talk about her BMW and her ability to make grown men cry, I opted to take my abuse from Shaun T.

As in, I threw up a little bit from the warm up.

And I don’t throw up.

Not when I’m pregnant and not when I have the flu.

I had an asthma attack as well.

And I don’t have asthma.

Youch.

 

Even though I would never describe this cross training as “fun,” it gave me just the confidence I needed to consume hundreds of thousands of calories on a ship in the ocean; plus, I appreciated the brief 40 or so minute workouts.

But I actually bored quite quickly, however, as although each DVD dons a different name, they all basically felt like glorified push-ups and power jumps to me!

I found myself fast forwarding through all the stretching and the water breaks.

I had built up my endurance and it no longer killed me each time.

Then, after my cruise, I started month 2.

 

And I barfed a little.

And blacked out some.

And it was “bye-bye” short workouts, as they each approached an hour or more.

Once again, I made it my mission to shave off as much time as possible, figuring I could cut off the stretching on each end and some of the instruction.

But it was slightly more difficult since I was sucking wind so badly I enjoyed/needed the breaks.

It was in this desperate state, while searching for reason to continue, that I suddenly realized how hot the great Shaun T. is, and I imagined him in the room with me every time I counted reps of push- up jacks.

But even that passed!

 

I was chronically sore (a good thing) and although I noticed myself growing stronger and even forming slight definition, it still became difficult to find motivation each day.

And because I wanted to quit literally every second I was doing it, I concluded that you cannot push yourself that hard for that long every day and expect to last indefinitely.

Only the gorging I participated in all weekend long kept me coming back for more every Monday, and I dreamt of day 60.

When it came, I had a hard time walking away from Shaun, but have decided to at least keep him around as an option for variance in my workouts.

Don’t worry, I don’t discriminate; Tony Horton’s still in there too.

And I know I can thank them both for what I was able to achieve in my next post: . . .