I did it!!!! That’s right. I completed the Insanity Max 30 workout and I am still alive. I conservatively estimate that I’ve poured enough sweat over the past 60 days to fill a freakin’ swimming pool. Not a kiddie-sized swimming pool. No I’m pretty sure I can fill at least a full-sized pool inflatable pool. I quite literally worked my ass off. Seriously! I caught a look at my shadow on the wall the other day and it appears to be a bit flatter and I couldn’t help but think that it’s going to make so many things so much easier.
I even started doing moves without the modifier! Yeah I know. I’m as surprised as you are. Jacked up spine be damned! I can successfully manage high-impact moves that only involve a small hop. If you’re saying, “So what?,” screw you! I’m counting that as a win.
So what did I get out of this? Well first there are the results. While I appreciate my junk in the trunk, I also appreciate not bumping it every time I try to navigate a tight space. That was getting to be quite literally a pain in the ass. I lost a few pounds which is nice, not that I think of my weight as anything more than a number that tells me how Earth’s gravitational field interacts with my mass, but hey it’s still a win. The muffin top has significantly decreased in size. I have an appreciable difference even from my last entry, so suck it, muffin top! I’ll see you in hell! Or maybe I won’t since I put myself through hell over the past 60 days.
But it’s not just about the surface results. I’ve learned the value of range of motion to avoid injuries. I’ve also managed to re-define failure in my mind. Failure isn’t being unable to reach a certain goal. Failure is lack of trying. Instead of taking it personally when things don’t go well, I take it as a challenge to improve the next day.
Now most important: did I cross the finish line on my own two feet or did I crawl across it? Actually I didn’t cross the finish line. I mean I finished the 60 day program, but I’m not seeing this as a finish line. No, folks this is a jumping off point because dammit I am going to run a 5-K this year. My stubborn little Irish ass is committed to achieving that goal and yes, you will hear all about it. If Eddie Izzard can complete 27 marathons in 27 days, then dammit my scrawny, pale, comedic ass can run a freakin’ 5K. Seriously, much respect to Eddie Izzard.
So what happens when I cross the 5K finish line? Simple, I pick up the finish line and move it out further. Maybe I’ll do a Tough Mudder…in a hazmat suit because well eww! I may even do a Spartan Race. Who knows? The possibilities are pretty much endless once you stop seeing finish lines as stop points.
Many thanks to my boyfriend for picking up the DVDs and intriguing my morbid sense of curiosity. Many thanks also to Shaun T for making my life a living hell for the past 60 days. It’s called Insanity for a reason. Dude, you are batcrap crazy. Don’t ever change, you sick, twisted, brilliant man. You and George RR Martin should do lunch. Thanks to the readers for hanging in there with me. I hope my snarky descriptions of this workout have both entertained you and challenged you to complete it. Seriously, it’s totally worth it if you really want to make a change. I’ll be cheering for you. I’d be remiss if I forgot to thank the bastard who invented the burpee, wherever you are. Just know that I will find you.