Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Why the Couch is Safer

After many discussions with one of my Biffs, I decided to spend seven whole dollars and buy the Jillian Michaels' (see also: my pretend biff) workout dvd, the 30 Day Shred.

The idea that my body could ever be described by anyone, even those under the influence of heavy hallucinogens as "shredded" is HIGHlarious. And yet.

I work out. I DO. I'm all "it's MY time, GRRR!" up in here. I have a wonderful weight room and I do a lot of really painful weight-lifting activities there, usually to the musical accompaniment of Avenged Sevenfold, and/or the Party Rock Anthem.

I've noticed recently though that my weekly "treats" were becoming weekly "regulars" and they were NOT helping me stay svelte and/or able to fight crime. I'm talking about my popcorn-daiquiri nights. That's right. I broke up (temporarily) with my Bacardi frozen mixer AND my light 80 proof rum. And mostly with the buttered popcorn goodness of Friday movie night.

I wanted to get REALLY healthy. Not organic-food-crazy-vegan healthy because that is WAY beyond my skill set (or interest) but normal-not-binge-snacking-5k-10-pound-weight-loss healthy.

I thought Jillian could help.

I just returned from the doctor.

I'm breaking up with Jillian too, for at least two weeks. Now, I'm not going to BLAME her, per se, for this injury, but you know what? Yeah. It's her fault. I was perfectly happy lifting weights. I had ZEROOOOO weight-related injuries. I did her damnable dvd for two days and now I'm all restriced and doctor-bossy'ed into wearing nothing but tightly-laced tennis shoes unless I'm asleep.

I hate tennis shoes. I LOVE shoes, most notably: sandals, high heels, boots, finger-toe shoes and/or anything beguilingly bedazzled. NOT tennis shoes. But I basically have to support my dirty angrily sprained tendons. The disgusting lump I felt was swelling as my tendons cried for mercy. Sweet.

I have to do NOTHING for two weeks. At least. If I ignore doctor-bossy (which I suspect he thought I might)(he was right)(ish) then the injury will nag and nag and never heal. AWESOME. Especially because it is throbbing right now in time to my hostilely beating heart. Last night, the mere weight of the bedding was enough to bother me. I'm sure it'll be FINE.

I am also sure I won't be shredded in 30 days.

Frankly, there is NO way to modify the 30 day shred, because it involves cardio like jumping jacks and jumping-imaginary-rope. Do you see a pattern? Jumping. Hmmmm. I'm sure that had NOTHING to do with my stupid tendons getting all bitchy.

This would never have happened if I'd stayed on the couch with my daiquiri. Now, I'll have to use the Bacardi frozen mixer can to ice myself.

The sadness, it overwhelms. If anyone needs your non-shredded Favorite Writer, I'll be wearing tennis shoes in the weight room.

Comments, questions, do YOU stay safe on the couch?

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