Monday, March 25, 2013

The Adventures of Butterball: Tapout Day 3

* The Adventures of Butterball are true stories about my *
* trials and tribulations as a stupid fat girl.  Enjoy! *

Undeterred by Day 1 and Day 2, our heroine walks blindly into Day 3.


Pre-workout mood: I didn't sleep last night. Too hot. Too sore. Too...everything. Will have to take something tonight. I need sleep. I cannot believe I'm getting up early for this. I don't even get up this early for  vacations or flights. Grumble, grumble, grumble.

Day 3 is Plyo XT.

I have no idea what that means. Sounds like the name of an Anime show. Almost sounds fun! (I bet it isn't.)

51:00 Warm up. Good morning Mike! (Yes, that is the hottie instructor's actual name. He's too excited to be a Mike. He totally looks like a Steve to me this morning. Yep, Steeeeeve.) Plyo is legwork. Ok, cool. As long as there's no push-ups or sit-ups. What's that Mike? This is the hardest workout of them all? Oh, that's just effing great.

<<Ok, I'm not going to do a play-by-play today. It's not nearly as much fun as the previous two days. The exercises were difficult but nothing I couldn't do. Well, do as best I could. There were a couple that involved the knees hitting the floor. No freaking way! My knee caps are so sore they hurt when they touch the inside of my pants. I need knee pads or maybe even a rolled up towel next time for additional cushion. Or maybe...just maybe...fatty-fat-fat will buck-up and do push-ups the right way. Yeah, check back with me on day 60 about that.>>

Here are some of the things that I screamed at the TV set.
"Pop-up? Add an extra 100 pounds to your frame and we'll see how well you pop-up, you bleep."
"I can't do that. Ok, I'll try. Ow. Ow. Ow!"
"Lunge left and kick. Lunge right and kick. Lunge left and kick. Lunge right and--oops. Forgot to move the tower heater. Crap."
"Oh, for crying out loud! Mike! You do it. I'll just jog in place until you're done."
"Skater lunges! I got this! Aha! Um, how do I stop without falling over?"
"Isn't it about time you took your shirt off Mike? No? Damn. Ok, I'll stare at Sam instead. Na na."
"Jump up and land softly? Yeah, sure. Jump up and there goes the bookshelf. Jump up and there goes that picture on the wall. Jump up and I think the hubby just fell out of bed upstairs. Ha ha!"

   Well, that sucked. Ah, what can they expect. I'm fat. I do appreciate the fact that Mike is constantly on me about not quitting. You can pause, but don't stop. It does help. Even though I want to kick that bastard in the face, deep down inside there's a thin girl who appreciates the motivation.
   Tonight I have yoga with my buddies! My yogini will be lucky if she gets one sun salutation out of me. It'll probably take the entire half-hour class for me to get into down dog. At least from there I only have to fall over to reach shavasana.

   When I cut the collar of my employer-endorsed workout clothing (aka t-shirt we always get at the company picnic), take the shirt off first. I cut them because it feels like I'm choking when I wear them. I now have three shirts sporting a "stylish" 45-degree angle cut in the front of them. I'm amazed I haven't accidentally stabbed myself in the heart with the scissors yet. God, I can be a lazy idiot.