SHREDDED

Folks, I am in the process of shredding. But what does it mean to shred? To be shredded? The act of shredding itself is a puzzling thing. Sometimes one shreds...but feels as though he or she is not fully reaching his or her shredding capacity. And sometimes all one truly needs to feel complete is a good shred.

The above image is my living nightmare. Yet also my salvation from myself.

Jillian and I have been spending time together for the last week. Specifically, twenty long minutes a day that seem like hours. She yells at me to do this and do that. She tells me not to quit and that when it starts to hurt  I should hold on even longer and push myself.

I hate her.

I hate her and her perfect abs and arms. I hate her man-voice and her controlling orders barked at me from inside my television. I even hate her perfect hair that never gets wet with sweat while she works out along with me.

And yet, much like the angst-y teen who hates her mother with a passion, I am secretly so eternally grateful for her presence in my life.

Jillian pushes me through her insanely difficult DVD with the unrelenting urgency of a Drill Sargent, while still managing to make me feel loved and supported through the whole awful ordeal. Why the hell else would I keep coming back for more each day despite my wobbly arms hanging lifeless and weak at my sides from the day before? She tells me if I do this every day for 20 minutes, I will be beautiful. And something about her approach makes me believe her. Something earnest in her voice convinces me she is right and she knows my inner darkness and wants to take me to the light. If that happens to entail kicking my ass with pretend-jump roping and reverse sit-ups, so be it.

I don't think I have lost any weight yet. And I still can't do any of the exercises without wanting to die (even though she claims I should feel stronger and have more stamina at this point in my "shred"). But there is a peace and calm determination growing in me and I can honestly say I owe it all to Jillian. I don't push myself like this at the gym. And I don't stick with DVDs of people way more buff than me telling me how to exercise. But for some reason, Jillian has me all turned around and feeling optimistic.

It is only day five. Perhaps we should chat again at say...day 25. I will make it that far. I know I will. Jillian believes in me. I can't let her down.