Exercise is an Instrument of Hell

I started exercising yesterday. I'm still trying to lose the baby weight. Did I mention that its the baby weight from my first born who is now 16? I don't just have a muffin top, I have a full blown jumbo sized coffee cake stuffed into my jeans. Every so often, I get inspired to try and whittle it down to just a muffin. Now is one of those times....

My boss, who is also a good friend and also Satan on Earth, has been wanting to lose some belly flub. On her, when I say Belly Flub, I mean, the mearest hint of a roll. The bitch is skinny, she has nice legs and boobs (truly, I'm feeling like all my lesbian tendencies come out on this blog). So, in my infinite wisdom, I tell her "Pilates - its the best". Meaning, during my one of many forays into the exercise world I did it and felt like it worked but didn't keep up with it. I loan her the video and she starts doing it EVERY NIGHT. (See what I mean about Satan???) About a month later, she comes to me and says, that one is now too easy, do you have a harder one I can borrow? Seeing my chance to break Satan, I rub my hands with glee and say, I have just the thing. Its a Yoga/Pilates combo which would kick my ass without taking it out of the case.

Then, the stupid part of me starts thinking, maybe I should start doing this. So, during one of my many trips to Wal-Mart (probably while drinking a stolen Frappucino) I buy a DVD. 10 Minute Pilates. 5 workouts - each to target a certain part of your body. 10 minutes? Piece of cake. I buy the said DVD. I proceed into work the next morning and tell Satan all about it.

A few days later, I determine I should actually try this thing out. Apparently the osmosis version of exercise isn't working with me. I pull it out, put it in the DVD player and pick my workout. Hmmmm...arms and shoulders. Sounds good. Should be low impact and I can attempt to eliminate the Turkey Legs that are my arms.

OH

MY

FUCKING

GOD

10 minutes later, I'm dripping sweat and my arms feel like spaghetti noodles. I calmly put the DVD back in its case and stow away the instrument of Hell in the drawer where the weeping Jesus used to reside.

Until this week. When Satan decided we should exercise at work. It sounded good (that should have been my first clue something was wrong with me). How bad could 10 minutes be (do I have short term memory loss). So, we start. It was bad enough I looked like a walrus flopping around but then - oh oh FART. Hey, at least it didn't stink!

Today, I feel like someone ripped my abs open. It hurts to laugh. It hurts to move. It hurts to freakin breath. Maybe I'm just more cut out to be one of those "rotund" women. Everything from the past comes back into style, why not the Botticelli style built women?

Thankfully, Satan was busy today so I managed to avoid more torture. I'm going to have to try and have the same happen tomorrow. I even tried bribing her this morning with a Frappucino. Ohhh, I know, I can just come in on crutches tomorrow. I wonder how long it is before my life insurance kicks in because I think she's going to kill me......