At minute eight, I tasted colors. At minute twelve, Leo had to leave the room because my face was the shade of a distressed tomato. At minute fifteen, I collapsed. The DVD menu looped. Shaun T. stared at my limp body from the TV screen and said, “That’s it? Dig deeper.”
“It’s just cardio,” I scoffed. “I ran a marathon last spring.” insanity with shaun t
Then the second exercise. Then the third. By the time we hit “Power Knees,” my marathon medal felt like a participation trophy from a different universe. At minute eight, I tasted colors
By Week 2, I’d lost eight pounds and my sense of linear time. I showed up to my office job wearing only compression shorts and a headband. My boss asked for the quarterly report. I looked her dead in the eye and said, “I don’t do reports. I do ‘In-and-Out Abs.’ Go!” The DVD menu looped
Then Power Jacks. 40. My lungs whispered a complaint.
The next morning, I did it again. And again. Day 3, I threw up. Day 5, I cried during “Level 2 Drills.” Day 7, I stopped feeling pain. Instead, I felt him .
Shaun T. smiled. “A’ight, y’all. This is it. ‘The Final Push-Up.’ We do 100 push-ups. Then we do 100 more. Then we cry. Then we do 50 more for fun.”