Wednesday's Weigh In

I started a new exercise routine on Monday. I'm not going to mention the name of the program, because of the next sentence I'm about to write. I hate it. I used to think that Jillian was the devil, but it turns out that she's only his friendly little niece. This guy... now he's the devil. And I'm only on day 3. I can only image how much worse this is all going to get. Yesterday's workout was unbelievable. I was sweating and wheezing, doing my best to keep up when he said (all chipper like) "All right, now that we're warmed up, let's get going." Are you freaking kidding me? That was the warm up? Ugh! Somehow, I made it through. This morning the alarm went off, and as soon as I moved, the pain hit. Then it all came flashing back to me. Seriously, I wanted nothing more than to crawl under the bed and hide, crying my eyes out. Can you get Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder from an exercise video? I'm going to try and hang in there. They said I should take some "before" pics so that I can be amazed with my transformation at the end of this traumatic event, so here you go. Black is slimming, right? I'm going to go find the Motrin now. Don't bother calling me to commiserate. I'm in too much pain to pick up the phone.