As I lay on the floor, breathing hard, in the fetal position, I watched Jillian Michael's cocky smile as my mind stuttered to a stop. Indeed, the 30 Shred Level 2 has been an initiation unlike any other for this knee-raise neophyte-well, an initiation unlike any other except one.
As I lay there, dazed, curled, exhilarated yet limp, crowing yet comatose, intensely introspective yet completely blank, it must be said: It felt like the exercise equivalent of losing your virginity.
Even now, as I drag my hollow body to the favorite easy chair with the childhood blanket to curl up and process what's just happened, I fight those warring sensations to tell all my friends or avoid everyone until my mind composes itself, until I get my dignity back, until I feel like my buoyant, chattery self again. I suppose in the same way, the 30 day shred will get easier and easier and then second nature and then something I don't even mention, or even register. I'll probably long for this level of stunned newness again. But right now, I just want some toast.
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