I was conned into my very first Insanity class this week, by my own mother. Or the woman I previously called mother.
For the uninitiated (those who are not awake at the crack of infomercial) it’s a high intensity work out programme from the good old US of A where you try to make your body do all kinds of weird and wonderful things for just 30 seconds at a time.
30 seconds say you? Bring. It. On. says I.
Still in ‘the husband bought me a bikini for Christmas’ mode, I enthusiastically star jumped, grapevined, wide jogged and squatted my way through the first seven minutes before the impossibly fit instructor said the words that will forever haunt my dreams ‘right, that’s the warm up done. WELCOME TO INSANITY!’
It all gets a bit hazy after that, I remember spider lunging until my legs no longer functioned (my brain was sending the instructions but the legs stayed stubbornly still), my abs burning in crunch hell and developing an irrational hatred of the kiss arses at the front of the class making ‘in-jokes’ with the instructor. AS IF YOU HAD THE BREATH FOR IN-JOKES YOU SHOWER OF BASTARDS.
I also have a vague recollection of facing the front of the room when the rest of the lycra clad brigade were facing the back on a few occasions. Hashtag coordination.
That aside, the faceless ‘they’ say that the key to improving overall health and fitness is to shock your body, change up your routine so that your muscles never know what they’re getting, apparently it keeps them working. My muscles have never been so shocked. They’re still shocked on Thursday after a class on Monday. I can finally sit down on the loo without wincing although I did try to wheel my office chair closer to my desk today using the power of my core which my abs were absolutely not ready for.
I’m not the kind of person who cuts out food – everything in moderation folks – I’m much more motivated by upping my physical activity levels and noticing the change that way, good for my body and any residual rage.
Did I love Insanity? Christ no. Will I go again? Yup. Anything that hurts that much must be doing me some good. Right…RIGHT? And next week we get to use the trampolines. I’ll keep you posted.
What hell do you put yourself through in the name of fitness?