So I have this friend. Darcy. She’s a personal trainer. She hates me. She loves me. She has a vested interest in my fitness… we share clothes.
No Pain, No Brain
These are some of the things she makes me do.
This is the V-Sit. I have added red to my drawrings to reflect the streaks in my hair. It is not blood, but totally could be because I am so close to dying in these pictures. You don’t even know.
The v-sit one does not actually attack my obliques (but the Super Pudge part of my belly). I look a lot like a helicopter when doing it. It’s so bad I put cones around me at the gym. Safety first!
Then there are the torso rotations with the medicine ball. You’re *blinking* too… I can sense it.
You’re not going to believe this next one. Not. Unless you believe that Darcy is out to kill me or lost her mind:
I’M NOT KIDDING!!!! NOTKIDDING! NOTNOTNOTNOTNOT!!!!
Who does this?!
She does.
I do.
Death does.
But wait, friends… you. Just. Wait.
Look:
Now pick your jaw up off the ground. It’s not a good look for you…
So. The Bosu ball squatty balance bar “I’m making my own rainbow because my body is raining sweat” move. This is really hard to draw… I squat and make the balance bar almost-touch-down right then swing up (WHILE ON A BALLLLLL!!!) to center then squat to almost-touch left.
Twelve times.
Each side.
TWICE.
*
This was what happened the first time she made me do this exercise. She’s the laugher in the pic:
It’s true. I fell. There were contributing circumstances (training session on the heels of painting the kids’ rooms 4 days straight). I have never gone “FULL TIMBER” before, and I have even run a full marathon.
Like I said, Darcy is SICK.
I think that’s partly why we get along so well.
I did not draw out all the stuff she makes me do. One involves me, on my hands and knees, and the cable machine. But I do it. Because I am committed, not to be confused institutional commitment, but I feel I am not as far from that as one might like to feel…
And after the multitudes of balancings and whathaveyou… I am tired. No, full-on fatigued. One would think the final exercise would be kinder, more subdued. Perhaps cleansing breaths and a toe point.
Nay.
This is Darcy.
Mother. Of. Pearl.
Oh Death where is thy sting?
I found it.
The first time I did these, after doing ALLLLLL the other circus-inspired exercises on my program… I had a gal come up and say,
Are back-flips next?
I said, “No. I am going home to die now.”
I have been dying a slow death for 3 weeks and I will die a little more tomorrow.
And while I am dying, Darcy is at Disneyland with her family… wearing MY jeans!