I hate Jillian Michaels. If I could find the receipt, I'd take this DVD back. She makes me feel fat and flabby and she has horse teeth. I hurt in places I didn't know I could hurt, although I think that means that there are still some muscles under all my extra weight.
I shredded today. I jumping jacked and push-upped and lunged my way around the living room (as much as someone of my stature can do, anyway), stepping over the dog and ducking out of the way of the ceiling fan when necessary. I looked like a damn fool and felt pretty stupid too. Jillian is a no-break-taking, 20-minute workout Nazi and she'd roll my ass if she saw the lackadaisical approach I was taking to her shred. I wasn't even using real hand weights, I was using green beans. (She ought to be thankful for that. If I were using real hand weights I'd have chucked those SOB's through the tv. She's lucky; I won't waste green beans.)
But I figure, some shred is better than no shred and if it turns into 60 days (or 90 or 120 or 733 days), what's the harm? It's more than I did yesterday (hell, it's more than I did all last week) and if I stick to my Chubby Kids and keep walking the dog, it's definitely an improvement. I asked the Bee if he wanted to shred with me. He laughed. But after having done this I realize that our living room floor probably couldn't take the both of us doing jumping jacks at the same time. Oh well. He'll be jealous soon enough.
I'm going to go collapse now.