suffering from INSANITY

It all started last Saturday night when Chris decided to start the exercise program, Insanity, because he "felt fat" (a common feeling in the Gourley home..."marriage fifteen" is real). So he popped the DVD in and started with what's called the "fit test." What was I doing? Sitting on the couch, still trying to digest my Costa Vida from earlier.

As I watched Chris do the fit test, which entailed exercises with names like power jumps, suicide jumps, and push-up jacks, I couldn't help but critique his form a little bit--something I would soon regret. Did I mention that I made fun of him for being tired after just the warm-up? I was also kind enough to mention a couple or five times how uncoordinated he looked. Don't worry, I get what's comin' to me soon.

Since Chris was tired of getting coached by me, he made me swear that I would do the fit test the next day, and that he would get to watch me. I thought, Sure! I run and do zumba, this will probably be a piece of cake for me! I can't wait to show you that I'm in better shape than you. Then the next day came around, and I made some lame excuse as to why I wasn't going to do it. Babe, we don't exercise on Sunday! It's almost 10:00, way past our bedtime, and I ate a lot at my parents.

Since I wussed out on Sunday, I decided I would get up in the morning and do it. That way, Chris probably wouldn't watch me either. So I woke up at 6:03 in the morning, got my workout clothes on, and walked downstairs with confidence that I was going to do better on the fit test than Chris. 

I turned the DVD on feeling pumped. Switch kicks? I ain't scurred! Power jacks? Come at me, bro! But after a couple of minutes into the warm-up I start to convince myself that this is not the same exercise tape Chris did. It couldn't be. I don't remember this long of a warm up. Then the switch kicks came... okay, these are kind of hard...then power jumps.... ouch...suicide jumps...Please forgive me Chris...Low plank obliques... this is the longest minute of my life! Screw good form! 

GOOD. HELL.

I would have ran another marathon before ever doing that again. I've never done a harder workout in my life. Like, about to puke hard. I was dripping with sweat, so I walked upstairs to get ready to shower. As soon as I took my clothes off, I became so dizzy and lightheaded that I decided to just lay down on my towel outside my bedroom (there was no way I was gonna let Chris see me in this condition). So there I was, laying outside my bedroom door in the fetal position, naked. Do you feel awkward reading that? Oh good, me neither.  After about 15 minutes, I finally admitted defeat and literally crawled back to my bed. I couldn't stand up for more than 10 seconds without becoming nauseous. 

Chris was able to nurse me back to health (only after several comments/giggles about how he was right) with some juice. I ended up being late to class that day, and also had to teach myself a new way to walk, since I was so sore. 

Moral of the story: Making fun of your husband could lead you to laying in the fetal position naked, wondering if that's what death feels like--karma is real.

Insanity: 1 Shayli: 0