Jillian and Me

Last night/this morning I got the urge to expand on my experience with Jillian Michaels. It all came about because I got hooked on a season of Biggest Loser Australia. Australian TV shows are different than their American counterparts... They show new episodes about four nights a week but the seasons last just as long. You do the math. So when I took a medication that made me gain 25 pounds in three months, I went off of it and used Jillian's 30-Day Shred to rid my body of the unwelcome weight.

"I want you to feel. like you're going. to die." Yes, Jillian, Yes! The sweat pours off my medically-induced hyper-hydrous body as I raise the weights to the ceiling in defiance of weakness. I do jumping jacks and more jumping jacks, until my legs burn. Then down on the floor for push ups and crunches, with Jillian making torture devices out of my own body. It hurts but the happy endorphins are running all over the place and I feel like a million bucks. "You want abs like this, ladies? They don't come for free." I remind her that mine did come for free until age and illness caught up with me. Now I push my body like I did in high school cross country, pounding out the repetitions until my body can go longer--go farther. It's mind over matter, and my mind is strong.

But my body is not.

Physically, yes. Healthily, no. I have the strength, but if I exert it too often my body revolts and shuts down, and I'm left with repetitive strain injuries that limit my normal range of motion. It's a contradiction that gets me every time. Six months later and my shoulder is still paying for what Jillian Michaels did to it. I can raise my arm above my head again but I still have to take ibuprofen every night before bed. Sorry Jillian... It was fun while it lasted, eh Mate? Good thing one of the contestants frequently won the weight goal just by walking around the property. Treadmill, here I come.