Much to my dismay, we were running again. Another mile. Apparently 30 degrees out isn't too cold to run. I can think of a whole host of other things I'd rather do than run a mile. Or run, anywhere, really. Right now, I'm way too tired to think of them. The twist on today's run was that we were going to do an "Indian Run". Single file, and as we were running, the last person would sprint to the front of the line. When they made it, then the next would sprint, so on and so forth. I immediately started panicking because I couldn't run the whole mile last time. Clearly nothing had changed in a day. We started out, and it didn't take but a minute or two until I had to fall out. The instructor said they'd wait, but I made them go on. I do NOT want to hold anyone else back. So, I power walked, and jogged, alternately.
Let me paint a picture for you... a picture of fat Megan, trudging along. With each torturous step, I am literally feeling the flab fly all over the place. As if the running isn't painful enough, the weight of your big ole stomach sloshing all over the place just adds salt to the wound. Is there a full body sports bra?? Because I need one, stat.
As I was catching up (I never made it back to the line), Jess had fallen out, and so we teamed up. We kept setting small goals (Ok, lets run to the red car, ok, to that driveway) and we alternated running and walking. Today I wasn't nearly as far behind, which was nice.
After that, I was ready to go home. Actually, I'm not going to lie. I was ready to take my fat ass to Winchell's, and have some donuts, and replenish my ever dipping blood sugar levels. But no. That was not to be. The devil in spandex had other plans for us. It was something she called "The Accelerator". I much prefer to call it the "Hot Heaping Pile of Pain and Misery".
It was a circuit, and after each round, we added something new, then started the circuit over. I knew I was screwed when it started with 10 push ups. Here is how it is broken down:
10 push ups
10 jump squats with weights
1 minute jumping rope
10 tricep dips
1 minute of the plank
10 jumping lunges with weights
10 lateral lifts with weights
10 mermaid jumps (jump up, squat down, jump down to push up position, jump back up)
10 bicep curls with weight
1 minute bicycle
Are you effing kidding me?!?! There was flab flying all over the place! I'd be on my 3rd squat jump, and my fat was still having aftershocks from the first jump! Once we made it to the plank (basically staying in the push up position, holding your body wieght up, with your back and butt flat/even), I thought I was going to collapse. I actually would have welcomed a heart attack, it would have been a nice distraction! Sweat was pouring off of my body faster than Disney dumped Lindsay Lohan. My lungs were on fire, and my muscles were shaking like jello. At each round, I kept looking at all the equipment we hadn't even gotten to yet, and wanted to cry.
The jumping rope was a disaster. I have no coordination. When they were handing out coordination, I clearly got in the boobs line twice. She said we could jump in place without the rope, or use or aerobic step to run up and down on that, so I switched to that. I really kept hoping I'd fall and break an ankle. God is so cruel... this summer I tore my calf muscle stepping over a freaking baby gate, but he can't throw me a frikken bone here??? Asshat.
I'm watching Jessica (our instructor, aka the devil in spandex) and she is yelling at us to keep going, and I was in shock. Not at the keep going, and that's why we are here... but that she even has enough breath to yell! I was wheezing like Fat Albert. I couldn't sputter out a yes or no. When asked how I was doing, I may have given a feeble thumbs up. I need a signal for "call 911".
When we finally made it through 10 rounds (TEN FREAKING ROUNDS!!!) I collapsed on the floor. I didn't even have it in me to stretch. Or talk. I was madly trying to work out in my head how I was going to get my kid to the car, cause I sure as hell wasn't carrying him! Every single part of my body aches. My chest is still wheezy, and I can't even drag myself to the shower. Tom is one lucky man, to come home to this hot mess tonight!!!
Can somebody remind me why I paid money for this?????