In case you want context:
Day 3 Report: Skipping breakfast before my workout is an error. I read a scientific study that proves you can get some of the benefits of exercise by simply imagining you’re exercising. I adopt this plan. I lay there, panting, and imagine working out for about half the routine. “These sit ups in my head are so taxing! My psychological form on these pikes is unbelievable!”
I’m not even sore the next day. Screw you, Science.
Day 4 Report: Huh. I can sort of manage a crippling Pilates position, which I had previously believed Tracy Anderson was achieving through CGI. I no longer feel angry at Tracy Anderson herself, just specific parts of her body — specifically her abs and upper arms.
Day 5 Report: I get through the first section without keening or modifying the exercises to suit the needs of an 80 year old woman who has just given birth.
Day 6 Report: If I ignore the searing pain, I am able to lay on the floor, and lift my legs at a right angle to my body while reaching to the ceiling to touch my toes. I do this more than once. I am increasingly angry at Tracy Anderson’s abs and upper arms.
This project was supposed to take ten days. On some level, I suppose it will, but there has been guilt.
I’m working out twice a week more than I was.
Without changing my diet at all, I’ve lost two pounds. I love you, buttered bread and red wine.
My stomach is visibly more muscular.
I am no longer mortified to be on my hands and knees whimpering while my husband checks his email at the desk next to me.